Chapter 343
As the smog began to dissipate, Ste had already stashed three sets of acid-proof hazmat suits in her vi from Arcadia, hoping her loved ones
wouldn''t venture outside. If they had to, she wanted them dressed in those suits.
The suits she stockpiled were thick and bulky, top-notch for protection—impervious to even a ssh of sulfuric acid. Their only downside was how
cumbersome they were, making them almost impossible to carry around
She tossed and tumed all night, the persistent patter of rain interrupting her sleep.
Come morning. the rain showed no signs of stopping. Predicting its duration was a fool''s errand. It seemed intent on a marathon, ceasing only briefly
before starting up again with renewed vigor.
The streets were flooded, making driving back home an impossible feat.
Impatient by nature, Ste couldn''t wait any longer and resorted to the most cumbersome solution—she would go on foot
Government-issued protective gear was scarce and meant formunal use. Ste couldn''t im it for her own
She returned it and retrieved her own stockpile instead. It was a struggle to don the suit, weighing her down with its thirty-odd pounds. The mask was
bulky, the protective boots even more so.
With her oxygen supply secured, she stepped resolutely into the acid rain.
She felt incredibly safe despite the suit''s hideous appearance. reminiscent of a bulky biohazard outfit. It was so clumsy that she was exhausted after
just a few hundred meters.
The rain hitting the suit was imperceptible, but her breath fogged up the mask. Thankfully, the built-in desant worked its magic. clearing her view
quickly.
The research institute was over thirty kilometers from Griffith. a mere half-hour drive under normal circumstances. But in a hazmat suit on foot, it was
as if she was crawling at a snail''s pace: she wouldn''t cover the distance even from dawn to dusk.
A day and a night passed, and the rain persisted, with anxious, hungry, and exhausted people taking shelter under eaves and storefronts, too
intimidated by the rain to head home. Some, impulsive and reckless, attempted to venture out at the first sign of a break in the rain. Using nks of
wood as makeshift shoes, they moved slowly towards their homes, only for the rain to start pouring again unexpectedly. Those lucky enough to run
might save their skin, but the rest faced the acid wash, their cries of agony futile against the downpour.
Ste heard her name being called and turned to see survivors sheltering in a shop doorway. There were looks of envy, curses thrown her way, and
even objects hurled in jealousy.
The colloid protective suit provided good instion. She couldn''t hear very clearly, but she felt the impact of the thrown stones on her body.
She scanned past her visor and caught the culprit—a middle-aged man with a mocking sneer as if daring her to confront him
This was the ugliness of human nature, repulsive to the core. If Ste approached, they would surely overpower her and steal her suit, and what
might happen to her then was anybody''s guess.
He should be thankful, for if the skies were clear of acid rain, Ste wouldn''t hesitate to tear him to pieces.
Unhooked by his bait, she continued on her way.
Hours passed and she hadn''t even left the confines of Swan Hill. The remains of those consumed by the acid rainy on the road, their features
obliterated by the relentless corrosion. Luckily, Ste was unfazed; otherwise, she might have lost her lunch.
Many survivors, unable to afford proper shelter, built makeshift huts with thatched roofs or corrugated metal sheets. During the rain, it was a death
sentence as the thin metal corroded, and the thatch soaked through.
She focused on the road ahead, avoiding the sight of the two children, not much older than Rosie, struggling to hold up a door as a shield against the
rain. Their limbs looked rigid, legs treembling—how much longer they could endure was unknown.
Ste took a deep breath and moved forward.
The bulky suit made sitting to rest impossible; she could only stand to catch her breath, even missing her lunch in the process. The journey was
tougher than imagined. Eight hours in, and she hadn''t reached the halfway mark as evening approached.
ight fell quickly with the rain, and
Ste neede￠-to find shelter.
Scanningher surroundings, she =~
aimed fora discreet entrance intos
Arcadi@After about half an hour;
she spotted a dpidated thatched
hut-seemingly abandoned judging
bVits tattered roof. Content belongs
to
As she made her way there, a figure approached in the distance, also d in a hazmat suit.
Curious, she paused to let the stranger pass, but to her surprise, he walked directly towards her.
Face to face, they stood, separated by their masks.
It was Jasper, who had braved the acid rain to find her. Their eyes locked, reluctant to part.N?velDrama.Org owns this.
Ste walked over, and Jasper opened his arms wide; they embraced tightly amidst the downpour. "Why are you here?" Ste asked, her voice
muffled by the rain.
"Worried about you,” he replied.
It was clear from Jasper''’s early departure from Griffith that he had set out at dawn
As night approached, the two, weighed down by the protective gear, found refuge in the abandoned hut, seeking shelter from the acid rain.
Once inside Arcadia, they rinsed off their suits and relished the freedom of breathing without the cumbersome gear.
Jasper massaged the crease marks on Ste''s face caused by the mask, “Does it hurt?”
"Not when you''re here.” Ste teased, her voice smooth as butter.
Jasper chuckled and pulled her closer.
"Did the rain get you guys?" she asked with concern
"No," he reassured her.
They were both bone-tired, their feet numb.
After a quick meal to sate their hunger and a brief rest to regain their strength, Ste headed to the bath for a soak. Unbeknownst to her, Jasper
followed.
They had both been so busytely that even his asional visits with Cooper and Rosie hadn''t allowed for much one-on-one time. Now, in the quiet
of the bath, they finally had a moment to themselves.
Jasper kneaded her shoulders and lower back, his touch gentle yet firm. "Feeling wiped out?"
She let out a seft sigh, "Yeah, but it''s
a good kind of''exhausted. "It had
been ages since she''d pushed “
herself this hard, but the real- wort
lessong she was learning were
invatuable, far beyond what =
textbooks or online tutorials could
ever offer.
Knowledge, she mused, was the
currency of survival. She might not
hold a candiéto the likes of Dr.
Garcia orcollin i in the medical world;
but Stelle owas asponge for I
inforrgation. She absorbed
everything she could from every
diséipline, and with each new fact
and skill she tucked away, her
perspective broadened and her
self-assurance soared. Content
belongs to NovelDrama.Org