18 Floors Above the Apocalypse
Chapter 323
Chapter 323
Stella's heart pounded like a jackhammer as she frantically checked Jasper for signs of sickness.
It didn't make any sense. He'd only gotten sick much later in his past life, and ever since she'd returned from Swan Hill, she'd insisted he wear masks when patrolling with Rosie and sanitize their clothes with alcohol upon returning home, followed by a thorough wash in disinfectant. Cooper didn't have a fancy mask, and with an abundance of caution, she hadn't let Cooper accompany them on rounds lately. Buddy came by, and Stella didn't even acknowledge him.
"Ah... Ah... Ah, hahaha, daylight's here, the sun's up!"
A cacophony of voices erupted outside, a cheerful stampede of sounds. It wasn't just a lone reveler-it was a whole crowd. The rich and famous, the down-on-their-luck, young and old alike, they were all there in the mist, laughing and crying, hugging and shouting, "Daylight's broken through, we've survived! Oh, oh, oh!"
Terrified by the commotion, Stella quickly sealed the doors and windows, whipped out the air purifier, and brewed a concoction of herbs she had mixed herself. Everyone had to drink it, even Cooper-forced down his throat if necessary.
The smog was just as dangerous to their feathered and furred friends. Stella had been testing the remedy on their rabbit for weeks, mixing the medicinal syrup into crushed corn. So far, there had been no adverse reactions.
As they were about to drink their herbal tonic, the radio crackled with an urgent broadcast: the smog was caused by a volcanic eruption in a northern archipelago, potentially carrying unknown viruses. Survivors were advised not to venture outside. If going out was absolutely necessary, they must take all safety precautions, wear masks, wash hands frequently, and disinfect clothing.
With the news spreading, those who had been celebrating in the smog turned pale, instinctively covering their noses and sprinting home.
Good Lord, this wasn't ordinary fog; this was a toxic smog with an undertone of nuclear waste. Were they infected now? What were they to do?
Panic set in, and the survivors huddled in their homes, trembling with fear. What hellish smog, they thought, even worse than an eternal night.
Stella pulled out the alcohol and disinfectant, and together they scrubbed every nook and cranny of the house. The smell of the disinfectant was harsh, but they'd rather suffer that than inhale the toxic air. The walkie-talkie buzzed-it was Dylan, looking for Rosie. His voice was laced with coughs.
Rosie, terrified, hung up immediately, as if a second's delay would let the smog seep into her home through the device. After hanging up, she felt a pang of guilt for being so abrupt, helplessly looking at Stella. Stella couldn't help but chuckle. "It's fine. The smog can't travel through the walkie-talkie."
relaxed and reconnected the walkie-talkie, her voice
cold, probably caught
rest and keep fit. Don't go outside. There's smog
call, Rosie looked
didn't know; perhaps it
off guard. The city was plunged
the window, peering into the foggy world outside. The smog wasn't too dense yet, with visibility around 50 meters, but the neighborhood was deserted, everyone too scared
homeowners' meeting was held via walkie-talkie. Voices filled with fear, anxiety, helplessness, and
do I do? I feel awful, having trouble breathing. Is there a doctor
coughed, am
from me. Don't come knocking if it's not important-we're not that
going to die alone. Tonight, I'll make sure someone's with me, even if I have
voice cut through the noise. "Stop the
channel
now?
"Squeak."
"Woof."
nearly choked, hurling his slipper at Buddy. "That'll teach you to behave. You are
fed up with Bran's antics, grabbed the slipper and
homeowners' meeting concluded with
the smog outside, neighbors were to help each other, making sure to cover their
on the walkie-talkie. "Stella,
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