Apocalypse Queen: My Space, My Rules Chapter 78: Engines of Survival

Tony finally snapped out of it and hesitantly reached out to touch the roast duck.

It wasn't an illusion. It was real, and it was hot.

He grabbed it like a starving beast, a low growl rumbling from his throat as he tore into it without restraint.

Delicious. Absolutely incredible.

The duck was clearly fresh out of the oven. It had crispy skin, tender meat, and juices bursting with every bite.

He devoured it, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes.

It had been days since he'd eaten a full meal, let alone something this good.

In no time, he finished the entire duck in a whirlwind and let out a satisfied burp.

Mariella handed him a can of Coke.

Tony took it with trembling hands, popped it open with a crisp hiss, and heard the satisfying fizz.

He tilted his head back and gulped it down, only to freeze in shock again. "Ice-cold Coke?"

Mariella pointed at the small microwave and compact fridge inside the helicopter, offering a perfectly reasonable explanation. "There's power on board. We heated the duck in the microwave, and it tasted like it just came out of the oven. The Coke's been kept chilled in the fridge."

The fridge was packed with food, fruit, and drinks. Tony stared at it, stunned once again.

Mariella's pleasant voice rang out again. "Help me with some work, and I'll pay you well. Also, everything in that fridge is for you."

Tony's expression shifted from gratitude to pure admiration.

My God, this angel must have been sent to save me.

...

The small helicopter landed in a flat valley halfway up the mountain.

The three of them stepped out, and Tony was immediately stunned by the sight before him.

Nine large trucks of different types were parked in the valley—fuel tankers, heavy-duty cargo trucks, refrigerated transport vehicles, and delivery trucks.

One of them, a massive sixteen-wheeler, was fully loaded and tightly covered with canvas. Judging by how deeply its tires sank into the dirt, it was carrying at least fifty tons.

There were also four high-end cars—Mercedes, BMW, Toyota Land Cruiser, and Jaguar.

How had all these vehicles ended up in the middle of a mountain valley? It was practically a mystery of the century.

Seeing Tony's stunned expression, Chandler spoke up. "These are all flood-recovered vehicles. Can you make keys for them?"

Only then did Tony understand that this was why they had brought him here.

Without another word, he dropped his heavy backpack and pulled out his tools—a multifunctional key-cutting machine.

"If it's just mechanical keys, I only need to check the VIN. That's easy. But those four cars use electronic keys, and that'll take at least three to four hours."

He was a top-tier expert and fast even by professional standards.

Mariella didn't hesitate. "Just make mechanical keys."

In the apocalypse, practicality mattered more than luxury.

Tony was about to mention the lack of power when Chandler brought out a diesel generator.

It had been modified, so it produced low noise but had strong output. It was more than enough to run a small key-cutting machine.

Tony said nothing more. He plugged it in, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

Chandler handled recording the VINs, while Tony cut the keys.

Within minutes, the first mechanical key was ready. Chandler took it and unlocked a fuel tanker.

Mariella asked what parts needed replacing and, under the pretense of digging through a bag, pulled out spare wiring and circuit boards from her storage space.

"These vehicles are relatively clean, and there's no mud contamination," Tony said. "That lowers the risk of major issues after repairs." He wasn't just a master locksmith. He was an excellent mechanic, too.

Chandler quickly replaced the wiring and circuit board, checked essential components, and then turned the key.

With a deep rumble, the engine roared to life. The fuel tanker started successfully.

While continuing to cut keys, Tony grinned. "Diesel engines are tougher. As long as they weren't running when submerged, water damage isn't too bad. The smaller cars might be worse off. If they won't start, I'll handle them myself."

He maintained a steady pace—one key every few minutes—until all the keys were done.

Every vehicle could now be started, but getting them running still required repairs and part replacements.

Flooded vehicles were most vulnerable to mud. Luckily, these hadn't been contaminated.

Still, water-damaged wiring was a major issue, and every circuit and control board needed replacement.

Once Tony finished the keys, he joined the repair work.

Mariella stood by the helicopter, pulling out all kinds of wires and parts from the toolbox. The sheer variety left Tony in awe.