18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 164

Jasper's actions sent them tumbling aside in a panic, landing in a heap and cursing as they chased after the car, hurling rocks.

Don't underestimate this local beast of a car. Even a dent wouldn't affect its function, now with the bulletproof glass.

The closer they got to Swan Hill, the fewer hikers they spotted. It was as if these survivors simply vanished mid-journey.

In the midst of this mystery, Stella noticed people climbing up the hills. That was right, carrying luggage and climbing mountains.

Nightfall impaired visibility, and some unfortunate souls slipped and tumbled down the slopes, landing heavily by the roadside, motionless for a long time.

Stella, with a sinking feeling, figured out the harsh reality and heaved a deep sigh. True to her prediction, Jasper turned off the air conditioning, rolling down the windows and letting the sweltering air rush in, instantly making the car unbearably hot.

A few minutes later, faint lights appeared in the distance. The road ahead was barricaded, just wide enough for a large vehicle to pass. There was a security booth by the side, and a sign with bold red letters hung in front.

Single person, 5 pounds of grain.

Small car, 10 pounds of grain.

Big car, 40 pounds of grain.

A metal gate blocked the road, forbidding passage without the required grain. No wonder so many were risking their lives to cross the hills. This was more than a robbery; it was murder.

Upon seeing a car approaching, five or six burly, bald men emerged from the booth. They were armed with knives, baseball bats, and riot forks. And the leader held a gun.

"Stop the car!"

Jasper complied, rolling down the window.

Stella picked up a 10-pound bag of potatoes and handed it over.

It was unclear whether it was the unpleasant smell of sweat, the sight of two weaklings, or simply their bad mood, but their eyes widened like brass bells, and with a fierce and malicious demeanor, they said, "20 pounds!"

Stella frowned, "Isn't it supposed to be 10 pounds?"

The bald men, fearless and confident, waved their weapons, "The price just went up."

Swallowing her anger, Stella, looking troubled and hesitant, reluctantly handed over another bag.

The man took the 20 pounds of potatoes and tossed them into a nearby truck like waste.

Stella glanced at the truck, filled with toll collection. They not only collected from those heading to Swan Hill but also from those returning.

A water tanker was just returning from Swan Hill, and the bald men took 20 pounds of salt and 20 pounds of dried seafood from it.

Stella noticed that the water tanker had a symbol painted on its front, and the driver shared a few words with the bald men. It was clear they were familiar with each other, and the driver was given a

discount. In other words, if it were just a regular vehicle, they would charge even more.

It was a lucrative business. They easily obtained several truckloads of supplies in a day.

The metal gate was pushed open, and Jasper drove off.

Noticing Stella's silence, he explained, "Such tyranny is common in the apocalypse. The police and army can't keep up, and we are just ordinary people."

Stella understood his point but didn't respond. She moved to lift the curtain and saw Rosie and Cooper, already woken up by the commotion, but remaining silent due to their usual cautious training.

The dog moved forward, rubbing against its owner's hand.

"It's okay now," Stella reassured them, petting their heads. "It'll be daylight soon. You guys can continue sleeping."

The air conditioning was turned back on, and the interior of the car cooled down.

The more comfortable it was, the more vigilant they needed to be. Stella took out her night vision binoculars and continued to watch the surroundings.

Suddenly, a figure darted out of the darkness, not avoiding the car, but instead accelerating towards it. RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

"Watch out!" As Stella warned, Jasper also noticed. Without stopping the car or slowing down, he charged forward.

A loud thud, and the figure was sent flying. Immediately, a dozen men armed with clubs charged from the sides of the road, desperately chasing and hacking at the car.

Unfortunately, two legs couldn't outrun four wheels. They chased and cursed, gasping for breath and nearly fainting from exhaustion.

Stella hadn't expected that there would be toll collectors up front and fraudsters at the back.

Even though Swan Hill was close to Griffith, no more than 50 miles to the beach and a mere hour's drive, it was like navigating through a gauntlet for the survivors to reach the beach.

With a car and ample supplies, it was already tough for them. It’d be much more difficult for the average survivors. Many didn't even stand a chance to reach the beach, being drained of everything they had along the way.

The attack was sudden, but both were safe thanks to their seat belts. Cooper and Rosie in the back, however, were rattled, yelping in pain. They clung to each other, enduring the pain.

Rosie had a bump on her forehead, and Stella quickly found some medicine to apply.

"I'm okay, Stella," Rosie was strong and even managed to give Stella a smile.

Stella gently stroked her head, soothing her, "Don't worry. We'll be there soon."

The rest of the journey was relatively smooth, with no more dangers encountered. Many survivors were descending from the hills, continuing their journey on the road.

Half an hour later, the thunderous sound of crashing waves reached them. Rosie recognized it instantly and exclaimed excitedly, "Jasper, that's the sound of the sea."

She remembered her parents taking her to the beach where she dug for shells and collected sea snails, but her parents would never come back.

In her excitement, a sense of melancholy surfaced. Rosie hugged Cooper tightly, turning her head to hide her tears. Sensing her sadness, Cooper gently nuzzled his face against hers.

Ahead, lights were illuminated. It was a checkpoint, manned by the military.

With so many people flocking to the coast, the military had set up checkpoints, with quite a few people queuing at the entrance.

Stella got out of the car to inquire and found out that they needed to get entry passes for passage. No grain was required, but ID registration was mandatory. Each person was entitled to an entry pass and could receive relief food for the first seven days.

After about half an hour, it was finally Stella's turn to register.

An armed soldier approached, "Please open your car."

Stella had prepared for this, hiding the muscular bodies of the dog and leaving only his head visible.

Just a dog with two big eyes, looking weak, helpless, and pitiful, resting on the car. His eyes seemed to be pleading, "I'm so hungry. Can I have something to eat?"

The soldier paused, stared at the dog head for a while, then silently closed the car door.

They received three entry passes and hit the road again.

Just then, the dawn was breaking, and the red sun began to rise from the end of the sea. The glorious rays painted the sea breeze, and the waves roared all around.

The stunning sight was not only beautiful but also a reminder that another terrifying day was about to begin.

The car drove along the coastal road, and the beach was faintly visible in the distance.

Stella took out her binoculars and saw that the beach was not silver-white, but grey-black, covered in tents, makeshift wooden huts, broken metal boats, rusty containers, and many survivors lying directly on the sand.

People were everywhere, looking like a pile of soiled turnips.

Beyond, rows of houses and shops were visible, with people sleeping in tents or out in the open on the streets.

Before the disaster, this place was a renowned seafood market, complete with sandy beaches and docks. It was a tourist hotspot, combining seafood trade with sightseeing. Now, it was teeming with people. Based on the blend of architecture and humanity, it wouldn't be too far off to compare it to an ant hill.

Stella, firm believer in the adage 'never go into a fight unprepared', had done her homework before venturing out.

Austin's seafood and dry goods were sourced from here. Monkey had advised her to keep her distance from the beach and the marketplace. The area was rife with refugees, thieves, pickpockets, and robbers, even indiscriminate criminals. There were even stories of deranged individuals attacking anyone they ran into with a knife.