Coffee Post Apocalypse

Part 1

Carol notched her chin and Daryl went in low. The door snicked closed behind them and she turned the lock latch.

"No sense letting anything sneak in behind us while we clear this out," she said.

Daryl nodded and slunk through the room to the counter. He leaned over, leading with the crossbow, to check the floor for walkers.

"Clear."

Carol edged around him and through the gap in the counter that led to the kitchen.

"Clear here, too," she called.

Daryl's shoulders relaxed and he let the crossbow drop to his side. Chairs and small round tables lay scattered throughout the room. Broken china and scattered CDs attested to the likelihood that they weren't the first to find the remnants of the twenty-first century's answer to the local watering hole.

"Stop sneering. It's just a coffee shop." Carol pushed a pile of broken glass out of the way and leaned against the counter.

"Five bucks for a crappy cup of coffee and woo-woo music on the loudspeakers. I'd rather scrape the bottom of a burned pot at the local convenience store."

"I miss coffee," Carol said. She plunked her backpack on the counter and started riffling through the cabinets under the counter.

"I don't count what they served in this kind of place as coffee." Daryl poked at the useless gifts on the shelves. No food. No water. Not so much as a candy bar. Just mugs and music no one listened to anymore.

"These places weren't about the coffee. They were about getting together with friends or finding a quiet place to work on your novel." Carol dropped a pile of napkins into her bag and sighed. "Didn't you ever come to one of these and just sit and watch people?

Daryl snorted. "Yeah, because I had so much time on my hands. Between bailing Merle out of jail and mopping blood up off my dad's floor, I regularly watched the douchebag patrol overpay for brown water."

Carol leaned against the counter. "Don't you ever miss what we had before? The things we considered normal?"

"Maybe you thought this was normal," he said, gesturing with the crossbow, "but I sure didn't. And I know you don't miss what your real normal was. That bastard doesn't deserve to be missed."

"Ed never took me to places like this, but sometimes I could get away when he was working and meet up with some girlfriends. As long as the bruises weren't too visible. We'd get coffee and cake and sit in the comfortable chairs, talking for hours. It was a little slice of real normal for me."

Daryl eyed the last unbroken table. He grabbed two chairs from a pile by the back wall and dragged them up to the table.

"Come on," he said, gesturing to the chairs, "have a seat. Show me what I missed when I passed these places by on my way to the bar."

Heat and color rose in Carol's cheeks. "You're making fun of me."

"No." Daryl pulled two bottles of water from his pack. "I want to have a drink with you. Carve out some of what used to be. See what it would have been like if we had met before things went to shit."

Carol shrugged and sat on the rickety chair. She picked up the bottle Daryl offered her and sipped the water.

"The smell would have given us chills.

#

The thick, warm scent of brewed coffee enveloped Daryl as he stepped through the door. His eyes closed and he breathed deeply. She was right. The smell was amazing in this place.

"Daryl, you're blocking the door." Carol's teasing tone broke through his contemplation of the sensory delights surrounding him.

He stepped aside to allow the twenty-something couple who'd been caught behind him to pass him by. Carol smiled and waved him over to join her at the tiny table by the window.

"You're late."

"I'm on time. You're early."

He leaned in to kiss her cheek before stepping up to the chair opposite her.

"Should we order something or were you just going to sniff?"

"Smart ass. I'll get the drinks."

He waited behind the couple he'd blocked earlier, smirking at their complicated orders. He might agree the coffee in this place was better than he'd thought it could be, but he'd be damned if he'd order some froo-froo drink with flavors and shots of anything. Men drank black coffee.

At the table, Carol watched him as he came back with the coffee. Her face wasn't drawn tight like it usually was. Instead she smiled. He hadn't seen her smile in months. The stiff lines of stress and fear had smoothed out, leaving her looking years younger than she had just that morning. He wanted to take her hand and pull her out of this contrived place so they could find somewhere private. Somewhere they could talk and not worry about putting up appearances. Somewhere the monsters could be beaten into their cages and left to roar while the demons they both fed were freed to ravage one another.

He cleared his throat and sat across the table from her. "So what do we talk about?" Daryl sipped his drink.

"Hopes, dreams, the future?"

Daryl twined his fingers with Carol's, enjoying the feel of her skin against his own. "What if I don't believe in those things?"

"Then tell me what you do believe in."

"I believe in you. Your strength. Your courage. I believe in what we've done. I believe in survival."

Carol sighed and pulled her hand away. "I...I want hopes and dreams. I want to think beyond the next meal or tonight's shelter. I thought that was why we came here."

"You're right. I'm sorry." Daryl crossed his legs and fidgeted with snap on his vest. "I dream about times like this. Times when we don't have to answer to anyone. There's no one looking for us. It's just you and me."

"I do, too. It's been a hard year for everyone. We need to carve out time for us."

The shop door banged, jerking Daryl upright in his chair. He scanned the room, eyeing the others nearby.

The shop was small and crowded. The close quarters made him edgy. He glanced at the large front windows and saw more people outside, headed their way. It looked like their idyll was going to be cut short.

"We have guests. Drink fast."

Carol followed his gaze and frowned. "It never ends, does it?"

"It's been better lately, but no. I don't think it ever will."

Carol sipped her drink and then stood. "I guess we should go."

#

The screech of the chair scraping across the floor caught the attention of the walkers as they pressed against the door Carol had locked upon their arrival. The glass doors bowed inward as more piled against them.

"I would have come here with you," Daryl said.

"I would have liked that."

Carol led the way through the kitchen area to the back door. Daryl leaned against the door to crack it open enough to see into the alley. When he was certain the walkers had gathered only at the front, he shoved the door open and stepped back into the world.