18 Floors Above the Apocalypse



A Cry for Help?

Well, that made sense.novelbin

Every creature's got a spirit, and whales are some of the gentlest giants of the ocean. We've heard plenty of stories about them seeking human help when they're in a tight spot-like getting caught in fishings or ropes, or when their bodies are riddled with painful barnacles.

Blue Blue circled our submarine, letting out plaintive cries.

Had our casual scratching actually formed some sort of bond?

Stella found herself in quite the dilemma. Blue Blue was massive, and with its mutation, getting close was no small feat. Pulling out that harpoon? That could easily result in us becoming a quick snack.

Blue Blue's relentless and increasingly forceful battering made it clear-it needed help, or things could get ugly.

Stella quickly did the math. The sub's top speed was 30 knots, while a normal blue whale cruised at around 20 kilometers per hour, with sprints reaching up to 50 km/h. The speeds were close, but the mutation threw a wrench in the works.

No one was keen on risking their lives, so Stella and Jasper made a unanimous decision: run for it.

They cranked the power to the max and bolted.

The three of them, plus their dog, crossed their fingers that maybe, just maybe, Blue Blue wouldn't follow.

But reality had other plans.

Not only did Blue Blue catch up, but it was even faster than they'd feared.

When 2688 veered left, Blue Blue followed suit. When 2688 turned right, the whale mirrored its movements. An hour into the chase, Blue Blue showed no signs of letting up.

Stella was at her wits' end. "What do we do now?"

Jasper frowned. "Maybe we should help it get that thing out?"

If they kept this up, the injury would worsen, possibly provoking the whale into a violent rage, and tearing the sub to pieces.

The sub wasn't armed with heavy weaponry, just spears and harpoons. But against a giant like Blue Blue, a quick kill was out of the question. Provoking it would only lead to disaster.

After much deliberation, Stella decided to take the plunge.

They halted the sub and slowly surfaced.

For safety, Rosie and Cooper stayed inside, while Stella and Jasper took a dinghy out.

Blue Blue surfaced alongside them, revealing the harpoon embedded in its back, about 20 centimeters wide. How deep it went, they couldn't tell.

This harpoon wasn't from their sub. Whoever attacked Blue Blue wasn't from 2688.

Stella was baffled. "Even if some submariners were desperate for food, wouldn't they go after smaller prey?"

A single whale could sustain many.

Before the apocalypse, a standard sub crew numbered around 40. If they succeeded in hunting Blue Blue, they wouldn't worry about meat for years. But how would they preserve it?

It had to be more than one sub involved, with a large crew.

Stella suited up, tethered herself to Jasper, and they paddled toward Blue Blue.

The whale circled them for a good ten minutes. Only when it sensed no harm did it slowly approach.

Stella didn't rush to remove the harpoon. Instead, she gently stroked Blue Blue, hoping to establish trust before attempting to remove the embedded weapon.

As she did, a milky substance began to seep into the sea around them.

Stella first reacted with surprise, then realization dawned.

Blue Blue was a mother, still nursing.

But where was the calf?

With a mother whale's protection, a calf wouldn't typically fall prey to other animals. Yet, the calf was missing.

Looking at the harpoon in Blue Blue's back, Stella guessed it had likely been killed.

After several minutes of gentle touching, Blue Blue moved even closer.

Stella and Jasper gripped the harpoon firmly. Blue Blue flinched in pain at the touch and began to struggle.

For such a massive creature, even a slight movement could cause countless waves, nearly flipping the dinghy.

But Blue Blue seemed to understand they were trying to help, as its thrashing wasn't too violent. Timing their efforts, Stella and Jasper embraced the harpoon again and gave a powerful tug.

With blood spraying, Blue Blue let out a pained cry that resonated powerfully through the air.

Even with earplugs firmly in place, Stella could feel her ears ringing, pain accompanying the sound.

The harpoon was heavy, and Jasper struggled to keep it from falling into the sea.

After the pain subsided, Blue Blue dove down into the depths, only to surface again, shooting a column of water high into the air.

The spray reached over ten meters high, and as sunlight hit the dispersing mist, a rainbow formed, resembling a burst of fireworks.

Stella gaped in amazement. "Is it thanking us?"

Jasper was incredulous. "Seems like it."

After the display, Blue Blue playfully rolled in the water as if to express gratitude, inadvertently sending the dinghy drifting further away with the

waves.

The whale dipped and rose a few times before descending back into the deep.

Once stable on the dinghy, they headed back to the submarine with the harpoon.

Before boarding, Jasper scanned the surrounding sea with his binoculars, his expression turning grave again.

That familiar sensation of being watched had returned.

This time, Stella felt it too.

Within the range of the binoculars, there were no ships or subs, but something seemed to be lurking in the shadows. With a bad feeling settling in, they didn't linger, returning to the sub with the harpoon and descending to a safe depth. Safely inside, Jasper and Stella examined the harpoon under the flashlight's beam. There were inscriptions on the shaft. The exact characters were unclear, but their shape unmistakably resembled the script of their kind.

No wonder the hunting of whales seemed so proficient; it was the work of the cold-blooded whaling expert, Iran.

Some sins are bone-deep. Even in a world struck by disaster and tainted with nuclear waste, the instinct to slaughter whales prevailed.

But the question remained: why did Iran hunt such a massive whale? How many mouths did they have to feed?

Stroking Blue Blue just now, Stella noticed several fresh wounds on its body, signs of a recent struggle.

The thought of ambushing Thai fishing boats, using sub weaponry to kill whales, and that intermittent feeling of being watched sent a shiver down her spine.

A sense of foreboding gripped Stella; there had to be a substantial number of Iranian vessels lurking nearby.

Despite having sped away for hundreds of miles, their pursuers had kept up, as if the SS Arcadia was already considered easy prey.

But when it came to sub combat, victory was never a sure bet.

Engaging just to snatch up three people and a dog would hardly be worth it; even if they won, the sub would surely sustain damage, making the hunt far from cost-effective.

The Iranians might be ruthless, but they weren't known for making bad deals.

There had to be a compelling reason for their aggression.

Jasper's face tensed with severity. "They might have discovered your Arcadia."

Stella's surprise quickly gave way to a sense of reasonableness.