18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 506

It wasn't so much about setting up shop as it was about killing time. Arcadia had everything one could need, and with neighbors so close, cooking up a storm wasn't really an option.

Stella took stock of their supplies, planning to replenish their stash of ready-made foods. Pizza pockets, frozen burritos, dinner rolls, and cinnamon swirls were on her list. They'd burned through a lot recently and needed to restock soon. Once prepared, they could store everything in Arcadia, ready to heat up whenever.

So, it was back to kneading dough, rolling it out, and letting it rise. Rosie got busy with the prep, and Jasper lent a hand when he returned from patrol with Stella.

The hydroponic veggies were sprouting, but the success rate was just okay, and their growth was nothing to write home about. Stella kept tweaking the temperature, adjusting the grow lights, and changing up the nutrient mix. After several tries, she finally got the hang of it, and the bok choy and lettuce began to thrive.

One evening, while out on patrol, they heard a commotion in the distance, followed by gunfire. Jasper raised his binoculars and observed, "They're hunting crocs."

In the Arctic, where crops wouldn't grow, people had to find other ways to survive, and hunting crocodiles had become the go-to. They'd drill holes in the ice during the day and set up glow-in-the-dark nets to catch them at night.

Stella was surprised, "Those rich folks?"

Jasper chuckled, "Fortunes change, Stella. Now, you're the real tycoon."

After making sure the area was safe, they hurried home, locking their door tightly and minding their own business.

On the twenty-eighth day, Ivans showed up on his snowmobile, "Stella, how do you make those dumplings?"

The Russians had been living comfortably lately and were now on a quest for better quality of life. On the day their base fell apart, they scavenged a lot of crocodile carcasses from outside the base, perfect for making dumplings.

This time, Ivans brought someone with him. The man looked East Asian, around his fifties or sixties, gaunt with deep-set eyes, thinning hair, and yellowed eyes. His mouth hung open in shock when he saw Stella, revealing a few missing teeth.

Ivans, ever observant, asked with a smile, "Yang, do you two know each other?" The man named Yang hesitated, "Stella?"

no recollection. He was likely one of the 'livestock' from the base. With Ivans present, Stella remained cool, "You know

the Arctic, it was possible that someone from the Goldbridge base was there too. After so many years of disaster, survivors changed a lot, but they

"Sort of. We used to live in the same neighborhood and would occasionally see

along, "What's

"Christian."

her head, "Sorry, doesn't

teased, "With looks like yours, Stella, no man could

didn't indulge him, "Ivans, there isn't a soul in Australia who can't wrap a dumpling. Comrade Yang must know how. Why come all the way

up by Union Base for so long, he's a bit out of it. One moment he says he can do it, the next he can't. Last time, he made his dumplings

the base seemed to have lost their marbles, like they had dementia. Stella felt a pang of pity and cursed Union Base before

when you say 'a pinch of salt,' how much is

was at a loss for words, "Ask Yang.

Once Ivans got the hang of it, he

you need greens for dumplings. How's your

forty percent made it," Stella offered openly, "Just enough

the mention of fresh greens, Ivans nearly

of the bok choy and lettuce, which came to

a bite right there, exclaiming, "Stella, you Aussies are miracle

greens, alive

didn't take well; we had a lot of failed sprouts, so I replanted.

off into the snow. As she watched them leave,

imagined he'd end up in the Arctic,

frowned, "Sis, what's Ivans up

be sure, "They might not mean us harm, but they're definitely