18 Floors Above the Apocalypse
Chapter 392

After Cody and his crew left, Stella sank into the couch, leaning quietly against Jasper's shoulder.

Jasper wrapped an arm around her. "What's up?"

"I'm just really happy, content," Stella said, hugging his neck. "Jasper, thank you."

He chuckled. "Thank me for what?"

"For everything." Stella smiled at him. "For meeting, getting to know each other, falling in love, being understanding, forgiving..."

Everything felt so perfect. She wanted it to last forever, to grow old together without parting.

Jasper held her close, his heart filled with contentment.

In the kitchen, Rosie pretended not to notice her brother and sister-in-law's intimacy as she washed the dishes. She saw nothing, knew nothing.

But Cooper, the rascal, was sneakily peeping from the doorway. Rosie dragged him back by his ear, "Not allowed."

The next day, waking up naturally, Stella savored Rosie's homemade oatmeal and chatted with Jasper. "We don't have much on today. How about we haul the coal back?"

The base was about fifty kilometers from the coal yard, and with many places needing coal, trucks made the trip regularly, which was relatively safe.

Jasper had no objections; it was better to bring it back early and store it in Arcadia to avoid any potential issues.

After their home had been tampered with, they couldn't take any chances. Anything of value needed to be secured.

Jasper plucked a few hairs and stuck them in the door jamb as they left.

The road to the coal yard was clear, but the muddy track was so rutted and bumpy from repeated use that it nearly shook their guts out.

Armed soldiers guarded the coal yard, which was operated by the Kindle Society, and all the office staff were military dependents.

As for the coal miners, they were offenders not bad enough to be executed but still required to pay their debt through labor. If manpower was short, survivors from the base would also be drafted to work. The difference lay in the workload: offenders had heavier duties and were only provided with food and shelter, no credits.

Stella presented the work order from the center, and the coal yard staff quickly arranged for the pickup. Machinery was scarce; they had to wait in line for manual loading.

After several hours, their turn finally came. Loading seventy tons of coal wasn't a quick job.

By sunset, they were loaded and ready to go.

Driving a fully-loaded truck meant they couldn't speed.

Halfway there, night was falling fast.

Suddenly, a voice crackled over the radio, "Sis, we're being tailed."

Rosie and Jasper, leading the convoy, had spotted a shadowy figure on a nearby path in the dim light and quickly alerted the others.

Stella frowned, "The Cyclone Gang?"

"Doesn't look like it," Rosie kept watch. "Seems like some local thugs."

Stella had barely interacted with the outside world; she had no time to make enemies.

They were geared up in bulletproof vests, helmets, and even the truck windows were swapped for bullet-resistant glass. The only real concern was the tires.

But night was approaching, and whether it came to defending themselves or escaping, they weren't worried.

Whether the thugs were wary of the nearby military trucks also transporting coal or had other plans, they kept their distance, stalking but not striking.

Instead of heading back to the base, Stella directed the truck towards Mount Murray.

Darkness fell quickly, and as the military convoy split off, the pursuers edged closer.

They pulled over at a bend in the road, and Stella stepped out to stretch.

The three of them, along with Cooper, sat down for a break, munching on some granola bars.

After eating, Stella pitched a tent. "Once we deliver the coal tomorrow, we can head back to base to rest."

Jasper agreed. "It's secluded here, should be safe. Let's call it a day; we've earned it."

They retired to the tent, and soon, a symphony of snores filled the air, human and canine alike, with Cooper's deep rumbling snore sounding as if not even thunder could wake him. Silent figures crept closer to the tent, drawing their weapons.

The leader approached the tent flap, but a faint noise made him look back...

In the pitch darkness, he saw nothing and dismissed it as paranoia.

He reached for the tent flap again, only to feel the cold touch of metal against the back of his head.

Frightened, he turned on a light and saw Rosie standing beside the tent, her expression chilling in the dark as she toyed with a weapon. And pressing against his head was a gun. Beside her stood a muscular dog, drooling at the sight of his leg.

Inside the tent, the snoring continued.

He realized then-it was a trap!

Their employer had warned that this group was tough, so they'd brought extra men. Now, they were all caught, incapacitated.

Indeed, Stella and Jasper had used ether.

Stella stepped forward, gun aimed, her voice icy: "Talk. Who sent you?"

The man, bound by the code of his trade, remained silent.

Stella wasted no breath, firing a bullet into one of the unconscious men. The gun had a silencer, making almost no noise in the night, but it was enough to terrify the standing man. Damn, this woman was ruthless!

As more of his crew fell, the man's resolve crumbled. "I'll talk! It was the Cyclone Gang. They promised us 200 pounds of food if we pulled it off, and we could keep your cargo." The Cyclone Gang?

Stella's frown deepened. Was this revenge, or were they acting on someone else's orders?

Her decision to collect coal had been spontaneous, yet the Cyclone Gang knew about it and had contacted the local thugs in advance.

And why hadn't they acted themselves, instead using a middleman?

Two truckloads of coal were worth a fortune in credits, and the Cyclone Gang was desperate enough to be in tatters.

Stella suspected they were the middlemen, unable to act directly due to some constraints.

So, who really wanted her dead?

Stella shook the gun. "Call out the Cyclone Gang."

The man had no room for refusal, with his crew at her mercy.

"Which one's your boss?" Stella asked.

The man's eyes flickered. As the third in command, he considered falsely accusing one of his brothers, but Jasper's soft warning made him think twice: "Choose wisely, or people die."

He knew better than to push his luck and, with a heavy heart, ratted out the boss.

Stella pulled out some rope, tying up a few of the beefier goons before tossing them into the back of the van. She left him with only two of his cronies. "By noon tomorrow," she said with a steely edge to her voice, "you better have the head of the Cyclone crew at Mount Murray. If not, I might just turn your brothers into mincemeat for the hounds."

Cooper turned up his nose at the thought of such a messy end, but he had to maintain his reputation as a tough guy. "Woof!" he barked, in a show of bravado.

With a menacing growl and bared fangs, Stella's threat sent shivers down the man's spine. He nodded vigorously, "Sure thing, it'll be done."