18 Floors Above the Apocalypse novel Chapter 606

The other captives looked like they hadn’t had a decent meal in ages, but the woman stood out with her full figure—a clear sign she’d been living quite comfortably in the barracks.

Her fear now was purely because her life was on the line. If the tables were turned tonight and she was the one captured, who knows what kind of expression she’d have.

Sensing the lethal intent radiating from Stella, the woman shook like a leaf. “Please, let me go. I’ll disappear. I swear, tonight never happened. I’ll take this secret to my grave.”

Stella didn’t waste a second, snapping the woman’s neck with cold efficiency.

A woman who could thrive in a military camp was no pushover; only the dead keep secrets.

Angela and her team arrived, ready to take out the enemy forces stationed at key points.

Sure, they’d wiped out more than half of the Chinese forces, but the real threats were the storage facility and refinery—places that couldn’t risk even a single spark.

The camp was near an oil field, and Angela, who knew the lay of the land, led a team to mount a rescue.

Cole took a group to the refinery while Stella, Jasper, and others headed for the storage facility.

The rest were tasked with mopping up any stragglers.

They had the advantage of timing, location, and teamwork; so far, so good, but they couldn’t afford to get complacent.

The storage facility was heavily guarded, but the wee hours had the guards fighting off drowsiness. The Chinese soldiers, unable to join any late-night parties due to their duties, were understandably grumpy.

Some found corners to sneak in naps, others yawned endlessly, and a few patrolled lazily.

Moving like shadows, the team first took out those hidden away, lost in slumber.

The uniforms were different, so Stella and her companions quickly swapped theirs for those of the fallen guards.

Armed and faking lethargy, complete with exaggerated yawns, they strolled towards the main gate.

“Up and at 'em?” grumbled the gatekeeper, eyeing them irritably. “Get to your posts. We're taking a leak and then catching some shut-eye.”

It seemed they were a group who’d arranged to take turns on guard duty, maximizing their sleep.

In the darkness, vision was blurred as they rushed to relieve themselves, bumping into Stella, which set off alarm bells.

The size difference was noticeable, and the body felt unusually soft.

Before they could say anything, it was too late. Stella's hand flashed, and a samurai sword swept across their necks, dragging bodies and souls into Arcadia.

Jasper and the others acted just as quickly, taking out the remaining three.

Jake and the rest stripped the bodies of their uniforms and donned them, taking the fallen soldiers’ posts.

Stella stashed the bodies into Arcadia and then fiddled with the storage lock using a piece of wire until it finally clicked open.

While her teammates provided cover, she slipped into the storage to collect the supplies.

Inside, there was a stockpile of refined products—gasoline, diesel, kerosene, lubricants, paraffin, asphalt, and petroleum coke, almost ready to be shipped to headquarters.

Now, it was all hers for the taking.

Though the haul wasn’t extraordinary compared to her past conquests of refineries holding 10,000 cubic meters of oil, it was still valuable.

Every bit counted, and these were hazardous materials. Best to secure them in Arcadia first.

She grabbed everything, not sparing even the empty barrels.

But just as Stella emerged from the storage, a patrol approached before they could retreat.

The unconscious dog was spared. It should be thankful for its rarity and potential for capture; otherwise, it would’ve been shot on the spot.

As the echo of gunfire faded in the distance, a fiery glow rose up, spreading rapidly and lighting up the sky—a clear sign the oil field was ablaze.

Their worst fears had been realized.

Beyond the towering black smoke and flames, sparse gunshots could be heard.

The team hoisted the dog and hurried towards the commotion.

The slaves from the camp had been freed, and in their rage, they unleashed their fury on the distillation pots they had built with their sweat and blood.

Better destroyed than left in the hands of the Chinese.

The oil field had caught fire during the gunfight, or it too would have been wrecked by the out-of-control survivors.

Angela, having calmed them down, approached with Kitty in tow.

Kitty, her short hair a testament to years of starvation, her chest flat, her face grimy beyond recognition, looked more like a frail, short man than a woman.

Next to Stella, it was like comparing heaven and earth.

In the face of urgency, all she could muster was a breathless “thank you,” as the words tangled in a knot of gratitude and fear.

The oil field was in a state of emergency, and immediate evacuation was the only course of action.

Panic spread among the prisoners like wildfire. Yet, in the midst of chaos, Kitty remained a beacon of clarity. “Everyone, stay cool,” she commanded. “We need to pull out with supplies and wheels. China dropped off a stash of goods just a few days ago. We’ve got to take it all.”

Indeed, anything that could be carried had to go; whatever couldn’t be taken was to be destroyed. No trace could be left behind, no resources for the enemy to claim. It was a scorched earth retreat, as old as warfare itself.