Apocalypse Star House Hoarding-Chapter 4

The sounds in her ears grew louder: the crashing waves, the shattering buildings, the roaring cars, and the terrified and desperate screams for help. She saw fragile low-rise buildings collapse and slender high-rises swaying precariously under the force of the waves.
The seawater moved incredibly fast and soon reached close by. Although the waves were slightly lower than before, they still swallowed all the buildings below the third floor.
Cars on the road in front of the “Ronaia” hotel were like leaves caught in a stream, tossed by the waves against the hotel’s walls, smashing through the walls amidst the terrified cries of the guests, and finally getting engulfed.
The floodwaters surged into the courtyard and the swimming pool below, breaking the glass and rushing into the hotel lobby.
The triangular building trembled slightly, and Yuxi crouched down, her heart pounding.
Despite all her preparations, facing the raw power of nature still made her tremble with fear.
The cries for help became clearer, with children’s wails and adults’ desperate screams.
Some people climbed to higher ground, calling out for their loved ones. Others clung to lifesaving trees or buildings, only to be swept away by the debris-laden waters.
She saw the woman on the neighboring balcony, gripping the railing and half-kneeling, her face pale as she watched the tsunami’s hellscape below. Her child repeatedly called for her from inside but then ran out and hugged her.
“Mommy, so much water…” The child gazed wide-eyed at the torrent below.
The woman instinctively clutched him tightly, fearing that if she let go, her child would be swept away by the merciless sea.
The tsunami waves had passed the hotel and were heading north, but more water was surging in from the south. This water was darker, gray-black, filled with more debris and struggling people, along with floating bodies.
The water level continued to rise, and with the tsunami came a torrential downpour, bringing a humid, salty smell and falling rapidly and fiercely.
Yuxi hurried back into her room, tightly closing the sliding glass door. Outside, she heard the panicked voices and footsteps of other people.
Many were swept away by the water, but many others had stayed high enough in buildings or had reacted quickly enough to escape to higher floors.
The rain pounded relentlessly on the glass doors, making it feel like the sky itself was collapsing.
The tsunami-triggered downpour finally began to subside by evening, but another wave had come, raising the water level even higher.
The water had swallowed all buildings below the fourth floor. After the rain stopped, the water level didn’t rise further but also didn’t recede.
Survivors in the surrounding water struggled to get closer to the high-rise. From above, Yuxi saw hotel staff releasing a few rubber dinghies and organizing able-bodied, uninjured men to rescue those floating nearby. These rescued individuals were all injured, some barely clinging to life.
Yuxi remembered that her task was to escape L Island, so even though she had survived the tsunami, it didn’t mean the task was complete. She couldn’t leave L Island on her own and needed to gather information.
She put her phone, passport, and wallet into the Star House storage, packed two bottles of water, some bread she had bought from the small supermarket, and some chocolate, beef jerky, and lollipops into her backpack, then left the room, closing the door behind her.
There were originally few residents on the 13th floor, and many guests were out by the sea when the tsunami hit, so there were even fewer people now. As she passed by, she saw several rooms with their doors open.
Some people were frantically packing their scattered belongings; others were switching TV channels to check the local news. Some, soaking wet, sat on the floor, displaying their injured arms for their family to disinfect and stop the bleeding. A child cried loudly for their mother, who, like a headless chicken, kept calling on her phone.
The hotel still had power, but to be safe, Yuxi didn’t plan to use the elevator. As she reached the stairwell, hotel staff entered the corridor.
They came to reassure the guests, and each room with guests was notified to send a representative.
Yuxi noticed there were ten guests, including herself, indicating the number of occupied rooms on the 13th floor. Everyone gathered in the slightly larger elevator waiting area as a staff member spoke in the international language.
“Please do not panic. The tsunami has passed, and the water should recede within a few hours. Room phones are currently not working, the elevators are out of service, and water and power may go out at any time. But don’t worry, the hotel has backup generators and a limited water supply, so we must conserve.
Rooms will have water for half an hour daily, from 7 to 7:30 PM. Additionally, the hotel will provide three meals a day for free, with each guest limited to one portion. Guests can collect their meals at the restaurant on the 7th floor with their room card and passport.
Lastly, all floors below the fourth have been flooded. Many guests and staff have been swept away and are currently missing. We are organizing rescue efforts, and there are many injured downstairs. We hope capable or medically knowledgeable guests will volunteer to help.”
As soon as the staff finished speaking, the guests started bombarding them with questions.
Some couldn’t understand due to language barriers, some lost their passports, others asked about the outside situation and when rescue would arrive, and some cried about not being able to contact their families.
Yuxi got the information she needed and decided to go downstairs to check the situation and collect a meal from the 7th-floor restaurant. Although she had plenty of supplies in the Star House storage, drawing attention in this environment would only invite suspicion, so it was best to keep a low profile.
There were fewer people on the 12th floor, already notified and relatively orderly. Some guests were holding room cards and passports, seemingly heading downstairs for meals.
The 11th and 10th floors were similar, but the 9th floor had noticeably more people. Some were sitting or standing in the hallway, wrapped in hotel towels, holding plastic bags with food and water, resting.
Nearby, staff were individually guiding people to rooms.
The hotel’s distance from the coast and its high prices, along with the lack of nearby night markets or shops, meant its occupancy rate wasn’t high. Yuxi felt relieved that, for now, she didn’t have to share a room with others.
The 8th floor had fewer rooms, mainly housing hotel facilities like an indoor pool, gym, and spa. The gym’s carpet was occupied by soaked survivors, many with minor injuries.
Two hotel staff were tending to the wounded with first aid kits.
A young girl moved anxiously among them, seemingly looking for missing relatives.
Among the survivors were people rescued from outside and hotel guests whose rooms had flooded and were waiting to be reassigned.
The southern section extended outwards with a semi-open café and bar area, where seven or eight people stood by the open railing, watching outside.
The water had risen to the fourth floor. While there were other tall buildings around, most were only six or seven stories high. From the 8th floor, the outside looked like a vast ocean.
This ocean was gray-black, filled with floating debris and bodies. Further away, survivors rescued by other tall buildings were crying in pain and despair over lost loved ones or injuries.
No one spoke loudly; those at the railing were stunned by the scene. Some covered their mouths and wept, while others hugged their families tightly, grateful to be alive.
Yuxi stood for a while before descending to the 7th floor.
There were more people here, queued outside the restaurant for meals, most wrapped in towels and looking disheveled. She saw people coming out with packed meals containing three dishes and rice, a small bowl of soup, and a bottle of mineral water.
For free meals, they were quite decent.
The restaurant’s ordering service was naturally canceled, and the existing cooked food was initially prepared for the evening buffet but got interrupted by the tsunami.
Once this was consumed, the hotel’s resources and manpower could only provide simple food.
The 6th-floor rooms were mostly full. A staff member was going in and out of rooms with a cart of hotel supplies, delivering thin blankets, towels, toiletries, and slippers.
Painful groans came from two rooms near the stairwell. Yuxi glanced inside and saw several severely injured people: one with a head injury, another missing fingers with a torn shoulder, one with debris embedded in their waist, lying motionless, and another with a broken leg, bone protruding and bleeding profusely.
Two hotel staff were at a loss, while a young man in civilian clothes directed them to prepare disinfectants, seemingly about to perform a simple surgery.
One hotel staff member couldn’t hold it in, apologized, and ran out feeling nauseous, almost bumping into Yuxi.
She steadied the person, took a small bottle of cooling oil from her pants pocket (Star House storage), and opened it under his nose: “Are you okay?”
The strong, refreshing scent overpowered the heavy blood smell. The staff member suppressed his urge to vomit, his face pale and sweaty, and gratefully nodded at her: “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome.” She dabbed some cooling oil on his clothes and hands, then handed him the bottle—she had bought two large boxes of these 6ml cooling oil bottles, twenty per box. “Remember me, I’m a hotel guest.”
He nodded again, a bit embarrassed: “You tipped me three times, I remember you.”