Second {Z Nation}

Chapter 24

Season 2, Episode 15 [End Times]

     Warren nods me forward towards the woman who offered the hot tea. I nod back and follow her to the bar stools as Vasquez checks the place out. We sit in silence as Warren sips the tea that the woman so graciously gave her, and which I refused. Never was much of a tea person, I preferred coffee when there was coffee to prefer. 

     Vasquez stomps around, banging on the walls, checking for both Zs and hidden surprises. I look around at the place- mapping out different ways to escape, but due to the lack of windows and the fact that the only ones that exist are well boarded up, our only exit is the front doors. The woman wipes down the bar, which looks like it's been wiped down one too many times and makes her way to us, at the very end of the bar.

     "How's your tea dear?" The woman asks Warren.

     "Excellent, thank you," Warren smiles gratefully at her.

     "You sure you don't want any sweetie?" The woman asks me.

     "No, I'm good- thank you," I inform her. 

     "More of a coffee person?" She asks me.

     "Yeah, actually," I smile politely- the feeling foreign to my face after years without it.

     "So, what brings you to California?" The older woman asks.

     "Just passing through," Warren divulges and the woman makes a sound of apprehension.

     "We're on our way up north- news is the Zs don't fair well in the cold," I add to the bluff.

     The woman nods her head before looking over to Vasquez, "what's the matter young man- don't like tea?" She asks jokingly.

     "I like tea just fine- it's surprises I don't like," he informs her as he pulls at one of the baseboards. "Nothing out of the ordinary," he reports to Warren, "except her."

     The woman smiles as if what he said was a joke- and I'm sure it could have been, coming out of anyone else's mouth, but Vasquez is such a hardass that I doubt he's ever made a joke. Warren nudges me and I quit my glancing around and focus on my leader.

     "Go get the others," she instructs me. I nod and hop off the bar stool, my boots landing with a heavy thud onto the hardwood. I make my way to the brown door and swing it open, hanging outside and gesturing for everyone to come closer. I struggle to not snicker at the sight of Murphy who is dressed in a huge flowery dress that is almost like a tent, a brown coat that looks straight out of the 70s- complimented by a cheetah print scarf, a floppy hat and huge glasses that make him look like a bug.

     Everyone hurries down the hill and enters the door I hold open, 10k is the first one in line. "You okay?" He asks me as he reaches my side, placing a hand on my shoulder.

     "Course," I smirk as the others greet Warren and Vasquez inside. "You?"

     "As long as you are," he tells me and I roll my eyes. 

     "Come on," I tell him before stepping back into the bar.

     "So is this a real working restaurant?" Doc asks as he saunters in.

     "Well except for black summer we've been in continuous operation since 1967," the older woman behind the counter reminisces as she hobbles out onto the bar floor. "We've had a limited menu at times, but..." She trails off before swinging another tray of tea stuff onto the high table that Warren has moved to. "Where you folks from?" She asks as the group, save Murphy and Vasquez, settle around the same table with a cylindrical lamp in the centre, lighting up our faces like a flashlight at a bonfire while you're telling ghost stories. The old blue woman prefers to sit at a table in the shady corner of the bar, scarf around her nose.