18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 443

Brady and his team didn't have a clue, but they figured the military higher-ups would be the last to leave, probably on a warship or plane. Stella looked worried. "The last to retreat?"

Jasper noticed her concern and turned to Brady. "Do you know what the other Kindle Society teams are up to?"

Brady shook his head. If they hadn't bumped into 2688, they wouldn't have known that East Base was tasked with building Hope Point.

The weather was good, and after two days of rest, the submarines were ready to set sail. Suddenly, at 0945, they spotted a ship at three o'clock.

Playing it safe, 2688 wanted to dive and leave, but Brady and the others noticed a red star painted on the side of the ship.

This was a sign of faith.

They decided to make contact.

Stella, wary of danger, handed Brady a bullhorn. "Hey there, friends! Where are you coming from?"

The crew on the distant ship noticed the submarines and responded excitedly in familiar language, waving and shouting, "Hey, we're from the official Northwestern Base." Northwestern Base?

Brady, still cautious, asked, "And where exactly is this Northwestern Base?"

"Qindu."

"Qindu, huh? Can you tell me how to make a proper burger?"

Indeed, nothing speaks to the soul like food. Stella nearly burst out laughing.

But just knowing how to make a burger wasn't enough for Brady. He threw out another challenge. "Fate brought us together. How about singing us some rock and roll?"

The folks on the other ship were skin and bones and barely had the energy to sing. If Stella were them, she'd want to throw her shoe at him.

But to their surprise, someone actually started singing. At first, it was just a few voices, but then more joined in.

time, growing more serious. He consulted with 2688. "We've got Northwesterners on our sub. They think those survivors on the ship are alright, kindred spirits. Should we bring them along?" A ship sails the seas, a submarine patrols the depths. If those

objections. "Sure, you guys guide

without exception, were seasoned

share their coordinates but told them a new base was being established and they could follow. The other side was just as cautious, probing about the origin of the

they seized the chance to counter-question. "What do you guys like to have

everything-chicken feet, shrimp dumplings,

reassured, they asked,

darn it, you

familiar banter, the other side wasn't angry but rather relieved, and after half an

0945 extending its periscope to guide the merchant ship, keeping

sailed. They pushed hard during calm

observation, they detected no abnormality

a new destination, life on the merchant ship grew more vibrant. "Hey, neighbors, we've got some fresh

mustard greens, bok

a drone. The sea was calm as Jasper piloted the drone into position mode,

growing greens in old pots and cans, and

why didn't you say so

then, it was clear. The inborn farming gene was unique to

gladly shared the coordinates

naval expertise, they skillfully

of sailing, they were only a couple

steadily, and the currents were simpler than in other

over 300 meters deep-a far cry

rest and breathe, and a fighter jet soared overhead. The survivors on the merchant ship jumped for joy. "A fighter jet! It's one of ours!" My goodness,

in the sky,

thrilled, surfacing to

calmer,

coordinates, the likelihood of

035 Ming-class