18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 359

Seven women barged into the room, three of them ready for a fight, clashing fiercely with the men inside. Rosie, quick on her feet, pocketed her razor-sharp blade and, with a flick of her wrist, sent a peanut flying at the sound of reinforcements rushing in with axes.

Her brother had taught her well—always aim for the head. Chaos erupted, with screams of women and a constant stream of men trying to help. Rosie, burning with fever and barely holding on, plunged her knife into one of the attackers, pushing him back into a corner. She was so weak she barely managed to finish him off, and didn't notice another blade swinging towards her from behind.

“Rosie, watch out!”

Someone shoved her aside just in time. Rosie slammed into the wall and saw it was Kitty who had saved her. Kitty instinctively raised her arm to block the attack, and blood spurted out. The attacker was relentless, cursing as he swung his knife down again. Rosie raised her gun and aimed for his forehead.

Bang. Another one down.

Panicked, she blurted out, “Kitty, you okay?”

Kitty, pale as a ghost, gritted her teeth. “Not dead yet. Let's finish these bastards first.” She then knocked down another man, pinned his neck under her foot, and despite the blood gushing from her arm, hammered him with her fists.

Angela lifted a chair and smashed it over another man's head, sending him straight to the afterlife. As more enemies stormed in, the three women fought with everything they had—stabbing with daggers, hacking with knives, and firing whenever they could. Thanks to her brother's rigorous training, every time Rosie pulled the trigger, it was a guaranteed hit.

They had guns. The women had guns!

Neither Kitty nor Angela were saints; years in a post-apocalyptic world had toughened them. Rosie might have been well-protected, but this wasn’t her first kill. It was either kill or be killed.

The gunfire finally made the men outside think twice about rushing in. The remaining men in the room were terrified of the three women who seemed to have gone berserk, and in their panic, they grabbed a terrified woman and threatened, “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll slit her throat!”

Kitty picked up a bloody axe from the floor and tossed it. Her injured arm threw off her aim, but the blade still struck the man. Damn, these people threw away lives like they were nothing. Well, Kitty wasn’t about to let anyone dictate her fate.

There were still enemies outside and bullets were running low. Rosie took the knife Angela handed her and threw it at an oncoming attacker. The blade buried itself in his heart. The man fell heavily, eyes wide in death.

No one dared enter now, and the room was littered with the corpses of at least a dozen men. Few other women were left; they either panicked and ran to their deaths or hid and were killed by the men. Such was life in the apocalypse—cheap as dirt.

Even without today’s events, their fates would have been bleak. Choices existed, but the outcomes were always the same.

Rosie cut a relatively clean piece of cloth from one of the men’s bodies and hastily bandaged Kitty. “Thanks, Kitty.” If it weren’t for her taking the hit, Kitty wouldn’t have been injured. The cut on Kitty’s arm was deep, blood flowing freely.

“Silly kid, no need for thanks,” Kitty said weakly, managing a smile. “If your sister-in-law hadn’t given me that anti-virus medicine back then, I’d be long dead.”

All in all, she owed Stella and needed to repay the favor someday.