Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 250: Harvesting

Mariella opened the yard storage room and had them carry all the heavy equipment inside.

"Ms. Townsend, that fish you gave me last time was unreal. My kids—and wife—barely got a bite before it was gone. Think you could hook me up again? I won't take it for free—I can trade you supplies." Just talking about it had Denton practically drooling.

Truth was, after Mariella's last deal trading raw gemstones, he'd even swallowed his pride and asked Wayne for a couple of fresh fish to take home, just so his wife and kids could enjoy a rare decent meal.

Later, when Mariella helped him celebrate moving into the new place, she brought another generous gift—six big fish, plus crabs and shrimp so fresh they might as well have just come out of the water.

It had already been five months since the disaster. Seafood that fresh felt like pure luxury.

But his wife and kids loved it, so he worked up the nerve and asked her again anyway.

Mariella knew Denton was sharp and always thinking. And with their places so close—plus the cameras he'd set up on the roof and by the front entrance of No. 101—she'd have to be a lot more careful going forward.

She trusted him, sure. But in times like these, when you were sitting on secrets worth a fortune, it paid to be cautious.

"Alright. Next time I head out, I'll bring back some river catch," she said, making it sound like the seafood only came from trips outside—a simple, believable explanation.

Denton knew better than to ask where it came from. He just nodded, satisfied. "Alright, thanks. I'll be waiting for the good stuff."

...

Mariella put the mini tractor and the large fishing machine into her storage space.

As soon as she stepped out, she called for Chandler. "Captain Zimmer, come to my room!"

Without a second thought, Chandler followed her upstairs.

Good thing the rest of the team was out chopping firewood with Number One. Otherwise, they'd have lost their minds—why was Ms. Townsend calling Captain Zimmer to her room in the middle of the day?

Once Mariella and Chandler were inside, Matthew stepped out.

He took out a key and unlocked the storage room Mariella had just been in. Inside, there was nothing but a pile of charcoal. All the heavy equipment Denton had delivered was gone without a trace.

Matthew stood there for a moment, silent. He didn't say a word. He stepped back out, quietly locked the door again, and walked away as if nothing had happened.

...

Mariella led Chandler into the bedroom, shut the door, and pulled him into her storage space.

She pointed at the mini tractor and started giving orders. "You handle plowing the wheat fields. I'll take care of harvesting the reeds."

Chandler didn't argue. He climbed into the tractor and got to work right away.

Mariella rolled up her sleeves and got to work, testing how well the fishing machine performed.

The thing was pretty heavy, but inside her storage space, it felt almost weightless, so handling it was easy.

As soon as she switched it on, the sonar pushed fish and other river creatures straight into the net.

Since they had done a big harvest not long ago, most of the fish, shrimp, and crabs weren't very big now.

Mariella picked out the bigger fish, shrimp, and crabs, then tossed the smaller ones back into the water.

After three rounds, she ended up with 15 big fish and about 40 to 50 pounds of shrimp and crabs. She stored everything in the static zone, just in case.

Once she was sure the fishing machine worked perfectly, she set it aside and used her mind to harvest the crops growing in the reed marsh.

Cattail, wild rice, water chestnut, watercress—anything mature was harvested without exception.

She sorted everything and stored it all in her static zone.

Once that was done, she moved on to the black soil field.

By now, the black soil was no longer a small garden. It had expanded into a vast 33-acre field.

With machines doing most of the work, the land was already covered in rows of crops.

Chandler was still in the tractor, clearing out the last stretch of open ground to turn it into wheat fields.

Mariella headed over to the vegetable patch and quickly pulled up dozens of cabbage plants. She picked out ten of the best ones, planning to have Terry's grandma turn them into pickles.

Then she moved on, picking peppers, eggplants, green beans, cucumbers, and tomatoes. There were also flat beans, kidney beans, yardlong beans, and radish. Before long, she'd gathered over a hundred pounds of fresh produce.

From the pile, she picked out only the best-looking ones and set them aside. She planned to have Terry's grandmother turn them into pickles.

Just thinking about crisp pickled cucumbers, tangy spicy preserved radish, pickled beans, and pickled chilies made her mouth water.

Terry's grandmother really was skilled—far better than any packaged food she'd ever bought.

Mariella suddenly stopped moving. She stared at one spot in disbelief for a long moment.

"Chandler!" she shouted excitedly.

Chandler, who was plowing the wheat field, immediately stopped what he was doing. He jumped down from the machine and ran over quickly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, thinking something had happened.