Chapter 302


    Moss was sprouting up everywhere, a veritable feast for the backyard chickens, which meant


    there''d be fresh meat on the table soon enough.


    But you couldn''t live on moss alone; a little variety wouldn''t hurt. Some seeds for lettuce or spinach


    would do nicely.


    However, no one dared to ask the folks in Building 50 directly. So, they had to take the long way


    around, through Austin.


    Austin was a shrewd middleman, always had an angle. He might''ve been all smiles and smooth talk


    around the well-to-do, but times had changed. Watching them grovel and sweet-talk was quite the


    show. Gone was their once lofty air.


    "Austin, buddy, we''re really counting on you here. This is serious."


    Austin put on airs, "I''ll see what I can do, but no promises. Those guys from Building 50 can be


    finicky. Considering... Anyway, let''s not dwell on the past, eh?"


    "We''re all created equal. We''ve always had respect for them from Building 50. It''s just that our


    wives, bless their hearts, got misled and made a mess of things. We''ve straightened them out since


    then."


    Those in the game knew when to bow and when to stand tall, quick to adapt to the new reality. After


    all, Building 50 was a force to be reckoned with. Making nice with them was all gain, no pain. Even


    Bran was eager to get in their good graces. Given the chance, they''d outdo him in no time.


    Austin actually brought it up with Ste. Now that the neighborhood was rtively safe, he and his


    son swung by Building 50 for a hot stew dinner.


    Nothing beat the warmth of a spicy stew on a cold day. Throw in a few swigs of whiskey, and you''d


    feel nothing short of heavenly.


    "You can''t just give in to every request. You gotta make ''em sweat for it. If ites too easy,


    nobody''s gonna respect you."


    If anyone knew how to y the customer game, it was Austin. No one dared im the top spot if he


    was second.


    "Mark my words, the moment this eternal night is over, they''ll turn on us faster than you can flip a


    page."


    Ste felt the same. With years of darkness ahead, she needed to stockpile meat and eggs for her


    family, not hand them out willy-nilly.


    Yet, refusing outright wasn''t practical. If everyone else was munching on scraps while you dined on


    steak, how long before resentment brewed trouble?


    Ste had a n but invited negotiation. "Austin, what''s your take?"


    "y hard to get. Let ''em sweat. But I do need a batch for Monkey''s crew. They''re tight-knit, and


    with moss aplenty, they ain''t short on chicken feed."


    If Monkey''s folks needed help, Ste couldn''t say no.


    However, since that ce was essentially anplex of apartments, the sound of chickens and


    ducks was quite conspicuous and could easily attract attention, making it susceptible to thieves.


    Moreover, poultry consumed a significant amount of food.


    "I''ll send them a few pairs of quail. They grow fast,y plenty of eggs, and the hens are quiet. Plus,


    they don''t stink up the ce when you keep ''em."


    Austinughed heartily, "You always think things through, Ste."


    Ste picked out four eggying quail hens and one male quail. She wasn''t one to y favorites;


    once the eggs hatched, she''d share with the whole building. Eastwood Eden''s members included.


    If everyone had a bit of protein, infighting was less likely.


    As for Lukas and his folks, Ste left the choice to them.


    Actually, she had mini chickens. When she bought fertilized eggs, the seller gave her 20 extra.


    When they hatched, they were just the size of a coin, smaller than quails when fully grown but with


    even healthier bodies. They just startedying eggs, and once there were more hatched, she


    nned to give them another batch as well.


    Austin sent word to Monkey.


    N?velDrama.Org copyrighted ? content.


    Monkey didn''t keep secrets. With his band of bounty hunters, they were determined to escort the


    quail home safely.


    With military andmunity support, the riots didn''tst long. Some thugs went straight, others fled


    to the mountains with their loot, and a few kept up their raids. Business as usual.


    Danger was everywhere, but the situation was stabilizing.


    After a few pushes, Ste started to give the vi residents some poultry. Chickens and ducks were


    off the table, but quail were fair game. Nothing was free, and it was strategic.


    The first to receive were those who were friendly or less troublesome towards Building 50.


    Austin whispered, "We only have a few, but those guys from Building 50 know you''re a stand-up


    guy. They set aside a pair just for you. Keep it under wraps, though."


    Touched by the gesture, the recipients saw the people living in Building 50 in a new light. No more


    following the wrong crowd; picking sides mattered.


    A few pairs went out, promising a solution to eggs and meat without spoiling anyone.


    Time had flown. It was hard to believe it had been five years since she''d first seen Rosie''s shy,


    sweet face. Rosie had grown a lot since then, stretching out and starting to bloom.


    The genes of Jasper''s family did not disappoint. Not only was he ruggedly handsome, but Rosie


    was shaping up to be a beauty herself.


    Being pretty in these dark times was a double-edged sword; it drew too much attention. To protect


    yourself, you had to be stronger than the rest.


    Kids shot up fast when well-fed, but Jasper hadn''t prepared enough; Rosie was outgrowing her


    clothes.


    Ste stashed some clothes in Arcadia, but none seemed right for Rosie. Ste tried her hand at


    making something new. Her sewing skills were modest, but she managed.


    Rosie was delighted, prancing around in her new outfit. At ten, she''d be cuddled and pampered in


    peace times. But now, she had to learn to fend for herself or risk sufferingter.


    Ste felt a pang of guilt but respected Jasper''s approach to parenting.


    Austin, ever the pragmatist, roped his son into the mix. "You''re two years older than Rosie," he told


    him. "Time to man up. Someday, I''ll be counting on you to keep us safe."


    Ever since hanging out with Rosie, his son had be more spirited. Daily boxing practice


    toughened him up, a far cry from his once sickly self.


    Good neighbors made life easier, indeed.


    Despite the bone-chilling cold, Dn was all smiles, "Wait for me, Rosie."


    The kids joining the adults for patrol was quite the novelty.


    Having seen Rosie kick a guard''s jaw sideways, no one underestimated the littledy. Some even


    grew envious.


    Comparisons were odious. Thinking of their own pampered kids, snug in their beds while they


    risked their necks on patrol, they couldn''t help but wish for simpler times.


    The next day, the patrol ranks swelled. Former billionaires dragged their kids out of bed, their long-


    suppressed emotions erupting. Pointing at their children, they scolded, "Take a good look at the kid


    from Building 50. Forget about the ten-year-old girl, you''re not even on par with their dog. Starting


    today, if you don''t start honing your survival skills, you might as well roll out the red carpet for the


    thugs toe and take you to the cleaners. The kids I''ve raised aren''t going to be just sitting ducks,


    fattening up for the ughter."