18 Floors Above the Apocalypse

Chapter 313

What Lindsay? There's not even a scrap left!

If the doctor hadn't diagnosed Bentley with delusional disorder, Bentley’s mum would've throttled him with her own hands.

She was a self-made woman, who had come up during the Golden era and was toughened by a world where only the strong survived. She'd been a bit neglectful of family in her early days and focused on her business, but Bentley, with his knack for commerce, made her proud. She retired early, handed the reins of the business to her son, and went globe-trotting.

Bentley was also a chip off the old block, taking the company to new heights. But then, he fell for a woman. The woman had been dead for years, and still, he couldn't shake her off. He was duped by a bodyguard turned bandit, who lured him away using a forged letter.

Bran tried to talk sense into him, but no dice. In a panic about his safety, Bran followed him out. Bran thought, with the Porras name holding weight in Griffith and cops patrolling their place, only a nutjob with a death wish would dare cross them. Looking back, Bran wondered where he got the nerve.

Bran was kidnapped in broad daylight, and the whole town knew. When Bentley’s mum found out the mess started with Bran’s cousin, she was livid. She slapped him silly and locked him up. "Try running again, and I'll break your legs!"

Stella was shocked. Who'd have thought Bentley would ever face such a day, and that it'd be his own mother who'd put him in line!

"He really has delusional disorder?"

"Who knows? Either way, they've got him on meds now."

Stuck with a cousin touched in the head, Bran felt cursed. Thankfully, Bentley’s mum took control, promising to compensate Shane with a new helicopter, or Bran would’ve been brainless by now.”

Stella would never give out what she took in. Out of respect, she offered a few comforting words, then had Buddy drag the mummy back home – out of sight, out of mind.

Annoyed as he was, Shane had her limits. He wasn't about to beat his son to death. After a week or so of care, Bran was bouncing around again.

This incident was embarrassing, and Bran was a lot more low-key after that.

When Stella had rested enough, she resumed her patrols. The three from Stella’s household took turns, each standing guard for four hours before rotating.

Other families looked on with envy and began to follow suit. Any kid that dared to object got a slap or was told to take a hike out of the gated community.

Tough times thinned the bonds of kinship. The once polite and refined, now in slippers and wielding brooms, chased their errant offspring, who ran ahead with their hair a mess.

Stella just watched and laughed.

Patrolling with her flashlight, she paused to gaze at the silent villas, lost in thought. She remembered No. 25 had a little poodle. The whole family was wiped out by the security team during that eternal night. The house still stood empty. It was a quality place, built with the best materials. Leaving it vacant seemed wasteful.

Cody and his gang had been looking for a safe house near the police station but found nothing. So they asked Monkey, who had no leads but reported it to Austin. Austin, a bit tipsy, let it slip to Stella.

Bran still wore the hat of the homeowners' association president and found himself talking to Stella in the shelter of a guard post.

"We've got six empty villas in the community. Got any ideas?"

Bran was instantly on guard. "What are you scheming now? Isn't one enough for you? You want a different one every day?" Ever since his heart got broken, he'd been reserved towards her.

Stella suggested, "They're empty anyway. Why not rent them out or sell them?"

Bran nearly choked. She had some nerve!

Houses belonged to their owners, and if they died without heirs, they'd revert to the state by law. But with everything so chaotic, who had the time to bother about housing?

Moreover, with Griffith already overcrowded, no one in their right mind would report an empty house. First come, first served was the rule of the land.

Stella was serious. Cody and Lukas had supplies, sure, but their living space was cramped. They couldn't even take out their meat to eat. Considering they had given up the helicopter and fuel without harming her and Jasper, Stella was willing to lend a hand.

"Don't be so quick to refuse. With security betraying us and bodyguards turning rogue, how many servants and guards have been let go? Once they're all out, who'll be left to defend the neighborhood? It's time we bring in some new blood. If they have a place here, they'll protect it as their own home when danger comes."

Bran eyed her suspiciously. She wasn't one to take losses. She was usually so terse with him, and now she wouldn't shut up. Was the sun rising from the west, or was she getting something out of this? "You planning to give these houses to who?"

"Buddy's practically moved into my place. You should know who I'm finding a house for."

Bran dropped the act. "Those four guys?"

"Yeah. They've got a life-debt with me, years of experience patrolling, and one's an ex-champion fighter. Any of them could take down your bodyguards with their hands tied."

Bran knew about their skills; his old man had them checked out. But it still didn't sit well with him. He’d laid everything on the line for Stella, and she was still distant yet so generous with others. Humph!

Still, she was right. Aside from them and the folks at No. 50, the rest were dead weight. If anything happened, they'd be lucky if they didn't drag us down. The never-ending night was taking its toll on everyone. It was time for some fresh blood, but it had to be someone they could trust. Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

"You're not setting me up, are you?"

Stella rolled her eyes. "Please, you think I'd invite wolves into the fold?"

Bran hesitated. "I can't decide on this alone. My dad has to agree."

Bran sure didn't want to end up like his cousin, locked up and force-fed meds. But he had a sense of loyalty. "I'll ask for you."

After Stella’s shift, she mentioned the plan to Jasper.

Bran was a stand-up guy, and truly took the time to hash things out with Shane. Shane had a keen sense of things—toppling a criminal stronghold and pulling his son out of the fire meant hidden allies were in the mix.

Giving the nod was a no-brainer. Bringing new blood with skills into the neighborhood was key for its long-term thriving, and it also paid due respect to the big rescue.

But Shane had an eye for the bigger picture. This had to be a song and dance; the last thing he wanted was for folks to feel like the Porras clan was calling all the shots. So, he had his blockhead of a son call a homeowners' meeting, bringing the matter into the light for a proper chinwag.

The empty mansion could be put up for rent, but only after a thorough interview, and a guarantor was a must. The profits would be a sweet deal for the homeowners to share.

Bran was eager to run this errand for his sister, and his mind was as sharp as ever. On stage, his passion was palpable.

“Listen up, everyone. These empty mansions are just sitting here giving us the creeps, and let's be honest, patrolling day in and day out has worn us all down. If we bring in new tenants with some muscle, they can help ease our watch duties. We could even move to shifts, and there'd be a nice little side income in it for us. It's a win-win, if you ask me.”

With that, Bran’s smile widened as he surveyed the crowd.

“All in favor, say 'aye.' Any opposed, 'nay.’”