18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 414

Outside the yacht's window, a chaotic swarm of creatures burst from the ocean, relentlessly hurling themselves against the glass. Another barrage hit, their slender bodies and large, cicada-wing-like fins clinging to the glass for several seconds before dropping away.

It was only then that Stella could see clearly—they were flying fish! Wherever she looked, the entire surface of the sea was alive with them. They leapt out of the water to meet the rising dawn, their wings unfolding as they soared through the air...

Stella had seen it on TV, a visual feast that left viewers marveling at the ocean's wonder and power. But experiencing it firsthand was enough to make her skin crawl. The two of them hurried out of bed, rushing toward the deck. The door leading to the deck was closed, and the burly Cooper was relentlessly scratching at it. Rosie, quick on the uptake and already there before the others, clutched a shotgun in her hands, her expression wary and serious.

"It's the Exocoetidae family," Jasper explained to his sister, "a type of fish that can fly." Rosie had never seen such a maritime spectacle, and the idea of flying fish instantly delighted her. Cooper flung the door open with a burst of energy and dashed out, barking loudly! Something was off; the sound seemed panicked. Stella and Jasper were just a step behind. They hadn't reached the door when Rosie's smiling face suddenly changed, and she raised her shotgun and fired.

The two of them raced over in alarm. Cooper, usually more ferocious than a pit bull and fearless in a fight, was now frightened, scurrying back with his tail between his legs. "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..." "Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh..." The flying fish were flopping all over the deck, with more than a dozen bursting in, spreading their wings and diving toward Rosie and Cooper. Had they gone mad? Were they possessed? Stella was stunned. Seeing one of the fish lunge for Cooper's snout, she pulled out her samurai sword and charged, slicing through the air.

The samurai sword was sharp, cleaving the flying fish in two. The bisected bodies fell to the deck, the fish heads with their serrated teeth still snapping, their iridescent eyes large and bulging, their wings flapping desperately. The sight was ghastly, enough to make one queasy. Not only had they grown several times in size, but their vitality was also astonishing. Describing them as zombie fish wouldn't be an overstatement. Stella, who had never flinched in the face of human foes, now found herself trembling at the sight of these zombie fish, especially upon seeing the deck swarming with them. Packed tightly together, they struggled and leapt incessantly. In that moment, Stella swore she'd never eat fish again in her life!

The flying fish scrambled wildly, their vitality making them difficult to kill with small bullets, which often failed to stop them instantly even when they hit. Guns were useless. If Jasper hadn't rushed over to protect her, Rosie might have been bitten. Stella threw a couple of baseball bats, "Cooper, out of the way!" Cooper backed off as the three humans battled the fish. Just as they killed off a few, more fish flew in. The ground was a mess of hopping fish, and the air was thick with flying bodies—it was complete chaos. Amidst the frenetic killing, a heap of bodies accumulated, with no end in sight. Jasper swung and knocked away several fish, seizing the chance to slam the door shut. Stella's blade was sharp, and she swiftly dispatched the remaining fish in the corridor.

Thud, thud, thud! Bang, bang, bang! Tens of thousands of flying fish migrating through the area crashed and flailed everywhere, with at least a thousand or two landing on the deck and never making it back to the sea. Their ferocity was now fully exposed as they thrashed about, continually slamming against the door, which felt as though it might give way at any moment. The corridor was drenched in blood, the smell of fish pervading the air. "Good grief, killing fish is harder than killing people," Stella panted, her adrenaline spiking as she anxiously asked, "Rosie, Cooper, are you guys okay?" Both were splattered with fish blood, and it was unclear if they had been injured. Rosie quickly checked herself while Cooper, his confidence shattered, ran off.

Stella hurried after him, finally dragging the cowering dog out from a cramped corner on the lower deck. She checked him over thoroughly, relieved to find no wounds. With the flying fish's lethal wings and serrated teeth, it would have been easy for Cooper to have been marked. What if an infection led to a virus? It was unlikely, but they couldn't be careless. Physically unharmed but emotionally shattered, Stella soothed him, "Smart move, Cooper. Those fish are toxic; just one touch, and you could be a goner. If you see them again, keep your distance, got it?" Cooper lay on the ground, paws covering his face.

Rosie was fine too, and the three humans plus one dog had survived a close call. As for the fish on the deck, let them be as fierce as they wanted; without water, they were bound to die eventually. Let them have their moment of ferocity. Being cautious wasn't necessarily a bad thing. They locked all doors and windows, indifferent to whether it was a gale or a downpour outside. Though uninjured, they were covered in fish blood and the stench of the sea. They promptly disinfected from head to toe, then showered in hot water.

After washing, they disinfected again, soaking their clothes in a disinfectant solution. By the time they finished cleaning up the fish carcasses and bloodstains in the corridor, three hours had passed, and the sun was high over Arcadia. The fish on the deck had turned into a sea of carcasses. Cooper stayed put while the trio, donned in protective gear, cleaned the yacht, sweeping all the fish bodies back into the sea. Don't underestimate the mess fish carcasses can make; they were everywhere, even in the smallest nooks. They had to scrub and disinfect thoroughly, not once but twice.

None of them slacked off, but it still took an entire day to finish the cleaning, leaving them with aching backs and exhausted bodies. They quickly pulled out the six-figure massage chairs to revive themselves. The fatigue was one thing, but the thought of their billion-dollar yacht being wrecked by a passing school of silverfish was another. The mutated silverfish's teeth and wings were so sharp they left numerous scratches on the deck, railings, doors, and windows. If this had happened before the apocalypse, the repair and maintenance costs would have been astronomical.

"Damn these silverfish, damn them all!" Stella groaned, lying on the massage chair. "Last time we were in the submarine, we saw lots of marine life that hadn't mutated. Why does it seem like everything's mutated now?" Neither yellow croaker nor silverfish were typically large, and they were generally docile species. Now, they behaved like escapees from an asylum. Jasper, no expert himself, couldn't explain it. "Maybe last time it was an inland sea, with fewer mutant creatures." That was the only explanation they had, but Stella had more pressing worries. "Cooper's ego is bruised. You, as his trainer, need to provide timely guidance. Don't let him internalize it and get sick."

Cooper was ten years old, and that was the most suffocating thought for Stella. By normal canine standards, Cooper was already a senior dog. From Jasper's examination, Cooper's body was still in its prime, showing no signs of premature aging. It was probably related to some mutation caused by the natural disaster. Stella wished Cooper could stay by her side forever, but mutations were unpredictable by nature. Even though Cooper seemed healthy now, there was no telling if he would suddenly age rapidly one day. The thought alone was enough to make her heart clench.

That's why she had Jasper check on Cooper periodically, showering him with love and care as if baring her soul. Honestly, she felt that even if she had children one day, she might not dote on them the way she pampered Cooper. Indeed, it was the trainer's touch that brought Cooper back to his lively self. Before bed each night, she double-checked all the doors and windows, ensuring everything was secure before turning off the lights. Fortunately, there were no more attack incidents the following day, but the rocking of the yacht was getting more pronounced. It was another sunny day, yet the wind was picking up...