18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 327

Scrambling to beat the clock, they was still a minute too late.

Swan Hill Institute of Herbal Medicine was shrouded in smog, packed with people seeking remedies for their ailments. Coughs echoed everywhere, droplets flying chaotically through the air.

Armed soldiers stood guard at the main entrance, behind the police tape, forbidding anyone to enter.

Stella quickly turned her car around and headed for the institute's back door. She didn't hide her concern, explaining the situation as it was.

Without official authorization, no outsiders were allowed entry. "I'm a student of Dr. Collin," Stella insisted, "I was invited over especially. Please, could you pass on the message?"

The guard at the rear was an institute staffer, unyielding in his refusal.

Stella smiled, stepping out of her car, and from the folds of her oversized coat, she pulled out a five- pound bag of rice, slipping it to him discreetly. "Do me a solid, will you? No worries if it doesn't pan out. I'll take the fall if anything goes wrong."

Who could resist the lure of a five-pound bag of rice in these times? The guard risked a reprimand to help her make contact.

After a thirty-minute wait, an assistant dressed in protective gear came out to fetch her.

The research center was small and had already filled up its temporary wards with over a hundred cases, categorized into asymptomatic, mild, severe, and critical. The hallways were crowded with patients.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

The smog had came suddenly, compounded by a relentless darkness. Even some of the institute's doctors had fallen ill in the past couple of days, overwhelmed with the workload, many still working through their sickness.

Collin still managed to get Stella inside, clearing out two rooms in the family area.

The institute lacked a veterinarian, so they had to treat Cooper as if he were human, with Collin himself taking charge.

After examining both patients, he confirmed the symptoms were mild and similar to those in the early stages of the infection. "You're lucky to have spotted it early. Timely treatment should make a significant difference."

Seeing Stella and Jasper symptom-free, Collin asked curiously, "How have you been preventing it?"

"We followed the recipe you gave us before, brewing herbal tea daily since we got the news from you."

"Hmm, the recipe is effective. Whether it can cure the virus depends on the severity of the symptoms and the individual's immune system." Collin instructed, "Luckily, some kind-hearted folks from Griffith have donated plenty of remedies. Dr. Garcia has tailored treatments for different symptoms. You can pick some up from the office area and drink it—cure or prevent."

Seizing the moment, Stella inquired, "Dr. Collin, how's the research progressing?"

Collin's eyes were bloodshot with fatigue. "Herbal medicine doesn't have a silver bullet. We're constantly adjusting treatments for different symptoms. We're still exploring, but once a patient's condition worsens, it deteriorates rapidly, making clinical observation and treatment challenging."

Rosie and Cooper shared a room, while she and Jasper were next door. The likelihood of infection for Stella and Jasper was high. Though it hadn't manifested yet, they were prepared.

Seeing Rosie and Cooper stable and self-sufficient, they decided it was better to join the institute's efforts than to wait passively for the disease to strike.

The staff was stretched thin, and the smog virus was relentless. Waiting for a cure could mean many more lives lost.

Having come this far, Stella wasn't about to sit idly by. A day earlier with the cure meant a day sooner she could get the medicine.

Back from the office with the medicine, she noticed it tasted similar to her own brew, confirming the presence of two key ingredients.

After comforting Cooper and Rosie, they set out to find Collin but were spotted by Hugh. "Stella, quick, lend a hand."

He was wheeling a body towards the operating room. She hurried over. "Hugh, are we attempting resuscitation?"

"What resuscitation? The man's dead," Hugh explained wearily. "The virus acts too fast; a medicine professor's eyes aren't scanners. The patient's descriptions often differ greatly from the actual symptoms, making the prescriptions inaccurate. I plan to perform autopsies on a few bodies, and get the most accurate data, which might help the others."

With a shortage of surgeons, Hugh was overwhelmed.

Without hesitation, Stella volunteered, "I'll help."

"You too, kid, come and lend a hand."

Though Stella was no stranger to violence, the sight of an opened chest cavity and the perforated lungs of the deceased nearly made her retch. Deep breaths kept her stomach in check.

Jasper, on the other hand, remained stoic, passing instruments as needed.

After the initial shock, Stella quickly adjusted and fell into step with Hugh. Together, they dissected body after body, while Jasper documented the grim details.

The lungs of critical patients were riddled with holes, disintegrated into a sieve, with fragments expelled through coughing. Most had died from asphyxiation caused by coughing up blood. Without respirators, oxygen tubes, defibrillators, or adrenaline, survival depended solely on the patient's resilience.

At the end of the day, Stella and Jasper were so tired that their backs ached and the thought of gory scenes made them lose their appetite for even the most delicious food.

After exhaustive decontamination, they returned to their quarters, tending to Cooper and Rosie first —forcing them to eat, knowing it was essential for fighting off the virus.

Rosie was manageable, but Cooper, more fragile, sought constant comfort.

Dog lives were already much shorter than humans, and treatments primarily were designed for people. Stella felt a deep sorrow, gently stroking Cooper's head. "Hang in there; you've got to be with us for much longer."

Cooper's eyes, watery, gazed back at her.

Suddenly, tears streamed down Stella's face as she hugged him. "Cooper, don't leave me."

Cooper whined softly, nuzzling her in response.

For days, Stella assisted Hugh with the autopsies, moving from initial shock to a calm detachment.

When Hugh fell ill, Stella took the lead, moving efficiently through her tasks.

Cooper and Rosie's condition went back and forth, getting better and worse from time to time. Stella, juggling her work and their care, was stretched to her limits. Thankfully, Jasper was by her side, their mutual support unwavering. They persisted with the medication, sneaking immune- boosting gamma globulin shots and kept ginseng, a tonic for vitality, in their mouths.

Surrounded by death, Stella grew numb to the daily toll, her life reduced to a cycle between the operating room and her quarters.

By the sixth day, she was hit with a fever and a cough that just wouldn't quit, feeling like her nose was a leaky faucet that couldn't be turned off.

Work was out of the question. She spent her days taking swigs of strong vodka, soaking in hot springs, popping a mix of over-the-counter and prescription meds, nibbling on power-packed smoothies, and curling up under a mountain of blankets to sleep it off.

Jasper started to show symptoms too, his body aching all over, feverish with chills that made him shiver uncontrollably, his sinuses sealed tighter than a drum. It felt like a knife jabbed him at random intervals, while an icy draft seemed to burrow non-stop into his bones.