18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 360

They scoured through the wreckage, hunting for anything useful. They found a few herbal remedies, but none with the antiseptic or antibiotic kick they really needed. Still, they stuffed them into their packs-who knows, maybe some old-world remedy might come in handy one day. Next up was food. They grabbed some jerky, dried potatoes, dehydrated sweet potatoes, and even some dried moss. Not exactly a feast, but it'd keep their stomachs from growling too loudly. Clearly, the good stuff had been snatched up long ago. They packed up their finds, along with some clean clothes they'd managed to salvage.

But water was the big one. You can go a week without food, but without water, you're toast in three days. The dread of dehydration hung over them as they filled every bottle they could get their hands on.

Two other women, survivors from the same hellhole, timidly tagged along, murmuring hopeful words. "You ladies are so strong and brave. Can we stick with you?"

Kitty shot them a cold glance, her knife still stained with blood. "I'm not your mom. I don't owe you anything. If you don't want to get killed, keep your distance."

The women, clearly terrified, shut up quick, but their hands kept busy picking through the supplies.

Everyone was sick, and lugging too much stuff would only slow them down. Rosie made sure not to overpack.

Before leaving, Rosie went back to the cage where she'd been held captive and chopped through the chain on the door. Whether the women inside made it or not was up to fate.

They reached the cave entrance just as the dust storm died down, only for a torrential downpour to take its place. The sky turned a dark, menacing gray, and within moments, they were drenched. Their spirits, momentarily lifted by the end of the dust storm, sank again.

They were all still sick, especially Kitty, whose wounds couldn't afford to get wet without risking a nasty infection.

"Maybe we should wait out the rain?" Rosie suggested, eyeing the deluge nervously.

wait turned into two hours, and the rain only got worse. It was like the sky had opened up,

Kitty was the first to voice the urgent need to leave. Years of environmental disasters had left the forests barren and the soil eroded a reality reflected in the very dust storms they'd faced. Now, the deluge was threatening to wash away what little was left. Rosie, realizing the danger, quickly put

sensing the same peril, agreed they had to move. Without further delay, they stepped out

their way out, the ground rumbled,

...

stubbornly scanning the horizon with her binoculars. Everywhere she looked, there

a nearby bank, there seemed to be survivors. She scanned the area again and again, but none of the faces were familiar. Days of sifting through bodies, encountering survivors and bandits, had yielded nothing. Feeling

taking a sedative could

she woke up, ate, and donned her raincoat again. Emerging from Arcadia, she found the landscape

rain had eased but was still persistent. She carefully descended the other side. At the base, the

she was alone, Stella inflated a dinghy and set off downstream, dodging debris and decay that

Survivors at the foot of the mountain were signaling for help, but

currents to scout with

impossible. Yet she persisted, paddling through

repair. Stella, reluctant to abandon it, stowed it back in Arcadia,

a wooden boat

for humanitarian aid when the dust storms had subsided, not anticipating the flood that followed. They had set up

thought, Stella agreed to lend them

who eyed her with complex expressions. Two soldiers took the oars, while

old woman with a skeletal face turned to Stella, "Young lady, got