18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 311

Regrettably, to the raiders, it was like scratching an itch through a boot. They had not even left a mark. Their bullets couldn't pierce the glass, so in a fit of rage, they aimed at the tires. "Damn it," they cursed, "can't even shoot through a tire. Where are my armor-piercing rounds? Where the hell are they?"

Stella didn't give a damn about their impotent fury; she just revved up her engine and roared away.

Some foolhardy thug, with more guts than brains, raised his gun and charged. Poor guy didn't even value his own life-who else would?

Stella plowed straight into him and blasted through the wall, crunching over the broken bricks and debris with a fearless drive.

No obstacle was truly an obstacle; she raced through the darkness with reckless abandon. It was a rush like no other.

As they cruised through the old town, things felt a lot safer, although now and then, some thug would jump out only to lose his nerve at the sight of the marauder's massive vehicle. They made it to the outskirts of Newtown unimpeded and switched cars. Flying in and driving back would be too showy.

Dressed in bulletproof vests and steel helmets, they rode their trusty scooters home. Only after a little excursion did they realize that Newtown had been cracking down in the past few days, and no thugs dared cause trouble. Stella had anticipated this; otherwise, she wouldn't dare ride a scooter.

The military police had cleared out the hideout. They would surely strike while the iron was hot to interrogate the three injured men, uncovering their ties to the city's gangs. Then, they took them down with a thunderous force. After a heavy crackdown, who would dare to run into the line of fire?

Anyone foolhardy enough to do so would end up at the waste-to-energy plant. Their remains would light up the eternal night-and never let the light dim!

Stella didn't rush to collect fuel after hiding the helicopter. It was too soon and would draw attention, possibly allowing the Porras family to deduce their route and location. This would be troublesome if they sent trackers. One truckload a day, it took four days to complete the collection.

enough, as soon as they left the neighborhood, someone followed but was led on a wild goose chase and stealthily

scavenge around the villas.

finally relax. She was now a proud owner of her own aircraft. It

and called Lukas, telling him and the others to come over. They arrived quickly, all

brought out the ledger. "I've taken stock of the supplies and noted the

life and death hung on supplies, and you'd been scrapping through the apocalypse, nobody was a fool. They

the Porras family are in our hands. Do you want to split it or trade for

moment. "What

a share, we can all use it together. It might just save our skins if we ever face an inescapable disaster. If not, I'll find a way to trade for equivalent goods for you." They considered the share of supplies they'd get-tea, salt, liquor, medicine-could be traded for food. Along with 1500 pounds of rice, they'd

spoke up, "Stella, we don't

aback but replied, "Well, tell me what you need,

"We underestimated their firepower. If it weren't for you and Jasper joining in, we wouldn't have gotten the helicopter and fuel,

help each other out, but over the years, Stella had helped Angela and Cody more times than

had sought Stella out, despite the others' disagreement, to increase their chances of success and because they had pulled off some underhanded deals in the past. In a world ending, who would complain about too many supplies? But this ordeal had shown her

returning, the four reflected deeply. This wasn't a partnership of equals. Even though the value of the helicopter and fuel far exceeded the

their upper hand to claim a larger share of the profits. Their discretion was their own, but that

offer, Stella didn't need. After much thought, giving up the helicopter and fuel seemed the right thing to

but as everyone had their own households, she still needed to keep up appearances. "That won't

this is our mutual decision. We're all