18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 345

Acid rain usually had no scent, but this cataclysmic downpour was different. The acidity index was so high it was lethal, eroding materials and leaving a foul stench in the air.

Stella was busy disinfecting the house, then turned on the air purifier with a sigh of relief.

Confined indoors, she spent her time organizing the knowledge she had accumulated these past weeks, not forgetting to tutor the siblings in medical science

Cooper didn’t understand a word, but he might as well have thought himself human the way he stubbornly sat by her side. fighting sleep and refusing to leave.

Next door, bored out of his mind, Austin would occasionally buzz over the walkie-talkie, "Hey, Stella, fancy a game of cards? We're one short." Stella, ever the spirited one, replied with a grin, "Sure, if you can make it over here.”

The acid rain had been relentless for days, showing no signs of a break in the clouds. To everyone's surprise, Austin actually made it, decked out in a protective suit that was the same brand as Stella's.

What a copycat. It wasn't just the neighbors; Bran showed up too, asking, “Stella, got anything to eat?” He was something else. Not only did he have a top-notch protective suit, but his dog did too, obviously custom-made.

Buddy. clad in his own gear, walked awkwardly but was still eager to see Cooper despite the acidic downpour. The two dogs played around downstairs while Rosie and Dylan practiced boxing on the rooftop.

The card games were addictive, so much so that cooking was the last thing on anyone's mind

Stella offered half-heartedly, "We've got some expired instant noodles, you want some?”

Bran, who had lost all his usual finickiness, replied. “As long as it doesn't kill me, I'm in."

"You'll find out if it's lethal once you've eaten it.”

She wasn’t kidding: the noodles were indeed a year past their prime, taken from a stash in her Arcadia hideout.

Without using the seasoning packets, Stella improvised. She threw in some dried mushrooms, beef balls. and fried eggs, serving up heaping bowls for everyone.

Bran, who never touched what he considered low-end junk food, now found himself relishing every bite as if it were a gourmet meal, "Stella, sticking with you is the only way to get good eats.”

Stella shot him a look, "Your family owns a farm. Making your own instant noodles and seasoning should be a breeze."

The Porras family did have a farm, and they tried to protect it with glass domes, but who could have predicted the acid rain would be so fierce? The soil was doomed to contamination.

As they ate, they discussed when the rain might end. Stella shook her head, "Who knows? It's as if it's got a mind of its own, deliberately tormenting us.”

Living through disaster, a lack of reverence meant a swift demise

If the rain had been acidic from the start. perhaps fewer lives would have been lost. Instead, it lulled everyone into a false sense of security before striking ruthlessly.

Bran didn't waste a drop of his noodle soup, "Exactly. It's like it's playing a cruel joke on us.”

They were about to resume their card game when suddenly. sunlight streamed through the windows. The acid rain had stopped, and the sun had broken through. The post-rain rainbow was exceptionally bright and beautiful, enchanting like something out of a fairy tale. tempting the mind and intoxicating the senses.

"The sun's out!" Cheering erupted from the rooftop as people rushed up, jumping around in jubilation.

Bran wasn't celebrating. He grabbed the walkie-talkie and cursed, "Have you all lost your damn minds? Didn't you learn anything from last time? Wanna bet the acid rain will come back and melt you all down to your banes?”

Ever since Bran had taken over as the head of the Homeowners Association, his temper had grown short. his insults coming quick and sharp. Those who had lost their senses to excitement might have resented his words, but no one dared to argue openly. Soon enough, they calmed down and meekly returned downstairs.

Less than half an hour later, the acid rain returned in a sudden deluge. Stella was surprised; Bran had matured. Had he not stopped them, the acid rain would have claimed more victims. The community was spared, but as for the outside world... no words could sway the damned

The authorities had warned that the acid rain might return intermittently and that even when the skies cleared, people should not rush outside but wait for the official all-clear. Yet human nature is often contrary.

As the acid rain continued on and off, a new crisis loomed: water scarcity.

Even the most frugal use wasn’t enough. Thesommunity's water supply was dwindling fast, and even. if it didn’trun out, it would spoil. = Boiled-dr not, the water was S undrikable, and everyone's ~~ digestive systems were painfully aWare.

The community's pleas for water echoed across the channels.

Water is life, and no one was willing to part with it, not even if they had some to spare. In times of crisis, self-preservation trumps charity.

Silence was the response to the requests, and the shameless ones had nothing to do but call out names one by one.

Eventually. everyone played dead.

Stella did the same.

Fortunately, the authorities soon announced a solution: starting in two days, water would be available at the town square for residents to collect. Everyone cheered at the news, but the joy quickly turned to worry. How would they transport the water back?

While the community heatedly discussed logistics. Stella, wrapped snugly in her blankets, remained unaware until Bran and Austin came knocking.

"Hey, guys, could we borrow your protective suits?”

Stella was incredulous, "You're short on protective suits?” Even the rich folks could face shortages, and Shane couldn't afford Bran to waste them. Shane had only agreed to lend out two suits.

Without a solution for the water crisis, the community would die of thirst. Bran had a plan. The government would provide each household with two 100-liter polyethylene drums, acid-resistant

"Stella, if you lend out your protective suits, other homeowners can take turns collecting the water."

Offering up the suits meant they wouldn't have to do the heavy lifting themselves. After a moment's consideration, Stella agreed, "We've got two suits, but we can only lend one."

Arcadia had more, but in these apocalyptic times. flaunting wealth was dangerous

Bran had no complaints. Between building 49.and 50, they could lend one suit each, in addition to the twe> from thePorras family. Every days our Reople would make three trips to caltect water, and if everyone uséd it sparingly, they'd survive. Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

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And so it was decided.

The homeowners were elated and fell in line witBran's plan. But their relief was.shortlived. The suits were cumbersome, and with water 9 <=

weighig about two pounds per iter, two.pdople carrying 200 pounds back home were exhaustectto the D6int of tears.

The journey was a clumsy ordeal, and thankfully the government-issued drums had lids, or else the water would have spilled en route. Once back, they still had to distribute the water house to house, leaving them with bruised and swollen shoulders from the effort.

Yet, the instinct to survive prevailed, and no one was willing to give up easily. And every homeowner took turns, meaning it could be days before your turn came up again.

Man, hindsight is a diamond, ain't it? If only they had had their own hazmat suit. they could've just chilled at home, waiting for someone to drop off water at their doorstep.