18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 376

Stella spotted him too—no doubt about it, he was a beggar. Dressed in tattered rags, barefoot, and wandering aimlessly.

"Another soul driven mad by the apocalypse," she sighed to herself.

Just as she was reflecting, the sound of a car caught the beggar's attention. Surprisingly, he turned and waved frantically to flag it down.

"Robbery tactics are getting more and more creative," she thought. "This guy could very well be a decoy for an ambush."

Stella cocked her gun, ready to take him down if he showed any sign of threat.

"Hey, stop the car, stop the car!" the beggar shouted.

Stella scanned the area but saw no sign of an ambush.

Jasper didn't hit the brakes and just drove past.

"Damn it, stop!" the beggar yelled, flipping them the bird.

Stella squinted, recognizing the figure in the rearview mirror.

"Stop the car," she commanded.

Seeing the truck pull over, the beggar’s mood swung from irritation to hope. He limped over and asked, "Buddy, could you give me a lift?"

He hurried over but froze in shock when he got a better look.

It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him in the dead of winter.

Without a word, he covered his face and turned to leave.

"Bran," Stella called out.

It was as if his heart had been pierced; his entire body stiffened.

His dignity, once guarded, now trampled into the mud.

But Stella didn’t mock him or ask how he’d come to this. "Get in. We’re still a good ten miles from the base. If you walk, your feet will be shredded."

The proud son of a wealthy family, now reduced to a destitute beggar by natural disasters. Fate had a cruel sense of humor.

There was no room left in the cab, so Bran had to settle for sitting on a pile of muddy rebar.

Having his worst moment exposed to someone he knew was a nightmare come true. But what could he do? He climbed aboard, the truck bouncing him all the way back to base.

As the sun set, the fallen rich kid sat atop a pile of garbage, numb to the jostling of the vehicle, his eyes void of any light.

They entered the base and drove up to the recycling center.

Unloading, trading, and cashing in credits.

The dirty steel took the workers some time to clean, and after weighing, they earned 3000 credits minus the 50-credit cleaning fee.

A truckload of steel could sustain a family for a few months.

The staff’s casual attitude meant no prying questions about where the steel came from, which eased Stella’s mind.

She didn’t plan to keep the credits. She went straight to the base’s store and bought supplies—ten oxygen packs.

Good for escape pods, these ten packs could last for three months.

In case of a real-life Robinson Crusoe situation, it was better to be prepared.

With half the credits left, Stella spotted coal for sale but decided to save up and buy a whole load at once, for the day when it might come in handy.

As for other supplies, aside from a submarine, Stella had almost everything she needed.

After days on the road, the family was eager to return home and clean up.

Bran left without a word, probably a matter of pride.