18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



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.

Commander Zhou observed their lips and expressions the whole 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 folks had any sinister plans, there'd be a safe distance between them.

Stella had no objections. "Sure, you guys guide them on."

Submarine captains, without exception, were seasoned veterans.

There were several hundred survivors on the ship. For safety reasons, Brady didn't 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 two submarines.

Learning they were from South Base, they seized the chance to counter-question. "What do you guys like to have for brunch?"

"Brunch comes with everything-chicken feet, shrimp dumplings, rice rolls, pineapple buns."

Still not reassured, they asked, "How do you folks cuss?"

"Gosh darn it, you numbskull!"

Hearing the familiar banter, the other side wasn't angry but rather relieved, and after half an hour of negotiation, they agreed to follow. So, 2688 led the way, with 0945 extending its periscope to guide the merchant ship, keeping a watchful eye on their movements.

For three days, they sailed. They pushed hard during calm seas by day and rested at night.

Throughout these days of observation, they detected no abnormality on the ship.

With a new destination, life on the merchant ship grew more vibrant. "Hey, neighbors, we've got some fresh veggies here. Want some?" "What kind of veggies?"

"Kale, mustard greens, bok choy."

Stella was not one to stand on

ceremony. She whipped out a drone. The sea was calm as Jasper piloted the drone into position mode, flying over the merchant ship to take photos.

Lo and behold, they were growing greens in old pots and cans, and they looked pretty good too.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

A chagrined Brady chuckled. "Hey, why didn't you say so earlier?"

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

And so, he gladly shared the coordinates of Hope Point.

With Brady's naval expertise, they skillfully avoided the sea's perils multiple times.

After more than 20 days of sailing, they were only a couple hundred nautical miles from Hope Point.

The seafloor rose steadily, and the currents were simpler than in other areas.

Sonar readings indicated the seafloor was just over 300 meters deep-a far cry from the 9,000-meter expanse they'd crossed half a month before. They surfaced to 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, Hope Point was real. They had a home again!

The jet circled twice in the sky, then shot up and away.

0945 was equally thrilled, surfacing to celebrate.

2688 remained calmer, persistently moving forward.

As they drew closer to the coordinates, the likelihood of encountering other survivors increased.

2688 came across a big one: a Type 035 Ming-class attack submarine, a national asset even before the catastrophe.

Jasper, with some military

knowledge, explained upon seeing the submarine's number: "This one was part of the Northern Fleet. Who commands it now in Kindle Society, I can't say."

The submarine surfaced and moved slowly forward.

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Vol

In the distance, towering structures emerged from the sea. At first glance, they looked like offshore drilling rigs, with eight gigantic orange red pillars driven deep into the seafloor, unshaken by the pounding waves.

Atop the pillars sat a massive platform, with rectangular containers welded in place, neatly arranged.

The structure fanned out in octagonal layers upward, each level outfitted with containers, reaching seven stories high.

Around the platforms, large workboats assisted, hoisting containers up...

As they drew nearer, they saw each container had eight doors, behind which were separate rooms.

The rooms were small, but the platforms were vast, each likely housing thousands of people.

Five kilometers apart stood another massive platform, with six more under construction.

This was the might of true construction zealots. If they said they could house 100,000 people, that was just the start.

Ocean freighters, aircraft carriers, warships, colossal sea construction equipment, helicopters airlifting supplies...

She had even dreamt that everyone else was dead, leaving just three people and a dog to age slowly. Is it still a civilization if only three people and a dog remain?

Now, as she faced the enormity of the sea base, she realized how insignificant individual power was and how absurd her previous thoughts had been. What she saw before her, that was national strength.

We are but specks in the grand scheme, yet the might of a nation is immense.

Facing a cataclysmic end of days, the country may be battered but never fallen.

It has always stood tall.

Majestic and unyielding!