18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 369

Hunter's eyes widened as realization hit him. Panic seized his voice as he blurted out, "Was it you who hit me last night?"

"Yep." Rosie's voice was soft, but there was a sharp edge to it. "I spared your life last night, but you just had to push your luck. It's really irritating."

"It wasn't on purpose, I swear! I didn't know it was you. Please, give me another chance."

Shaking her head, Rosie refused, "I already gave you a chance, but you blew it."

Despite Hunter's usual bravado, he knew when to grovel. He started sweet-talking urgently, "My dad's a big shot in Raven Port, and he's helped a lot of people during the disaster relief. You guys benefited from that help too. He's only got me as a son. Can't you spare me for his sake?"

Rosie had her own principles. "Hmm, your dad's a good man, which is why I spared you. Last night, I didn't take your life, but you still had the nerve to try and take ours."

She smiled at him, her voice cold as ice, "Besides, your dad is your dad, and you are you. They're not the same."

Hunter felt a chill run down his spine. "I'm sorry, I really am. Rosie, please, have a heart and let me go."

"I don't like letting things go; they tend to leave a stench," Rosie replied, unimpressed.

Her eyes slowly filled with a deadly resolve, and Hunter knew she meant business. He scrambled desperately on the ground, crying out in despair, "Dad, save me, please save me!"

But in the desolate miles around them, his screams were futile.

Rosie watched him crawl, waiting until despair consumed him completely before raising her gun...

It was her brother's lesson all over again—a clean headshot.

Stella kept watch over the perimeter, not intervening. This was Rosie's battle, her need for catharsis.

Stella approached and patted her on the shoulder, "Rosie, you did nothing wrong. Good job."

Rosie took a deep breath and hugged Stella, "Thanks, sis."

Not far from them was a river. They dragged the body there, disposing of it and erasing their tracks. For safety, they moved their hideout that night, settling into a reclusive life in the mountains.

Jasper was severely injured. Stella racked her brain for treatments—massaging his back, applying acupuncture, brewing medicinal pastes. She was grateful for the years of dedication and the skills she'd learned from Dr. Garcia and Collin. Otherwise, she'd be helpless in the face of Jasper's injuries.

But now, she had both courage and confidence. She was both terrified and incredibly lucky. One natural disaster after another struck without giving them a moment's respite. She hoped they could all survive.

Jasper was conscious but couldn't move. Stella turned him over every few hours, and he expressed his guilt, "Stella, I'm putting you through so much."

Caring for the sick is exhausting, especially a big guy like Jasper. But having survived life-and-death situations and still being able to care for the one she cherished was a luxury she was thankful for.

She relished the process, "Actually, you've been the one taking care of me for years—tolerating and indulging me. It's my turn now."

Jasper held her hand, "You're great. What tolerance are we talking about?"

"Really?" Stella knew her own temperament wasn't easy, and he had been very accommodating over the years. It was through this ordeal that she realized how essential Jasper was to her life. Living was important, but living with quality was paramount.

She lay beside him, her heart brimming with contentment and anticipation, "When you get better, will you continue to care for, tolerate, and indulge me?"