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CHAPTER

10

KAREN HAD LEFT the double wooden doors ajar, so the three women easily slipped inside to the Cascade Dining Room. Thick timbers had fallen from the ceiling and crashed into tables, splintering them like snapped matchsticks. Debris and glass littered the area that led to outdoor seating, letting in wisps of cold air.

Mercury put her hands on her hips and studied the broken windows. “We need to close this mess up. Nuclear or not, something deadly was released with those bombs, and we need to make it more difficult for it to get inside here.”

“I have an idea,” said Stella as she hurried to the bar, which was mostly still intact. She hunted behind the counter as the scent of spilled booze drifted like an enticing dream around them. “Ha! I knew they’d be here.” Victoriously she hefted two big rectangular boxes that held industrial-sized rolls of plastic cling wrap and aluminum foil. “If you help me, we can cover what’s left of the windows and then pile those broken wooden tables against them. It’ll be dark in here, but it looks like it’s gonna be dark soon anyway.”

“Bob said we have electricity, but any lights that were turned on during the surge would be fried.” Mercury found the light switch on the wall and flipped it on. “Nothing.”

“Hey, I saw floor lamps out there in the foyer. It was pretty bright before all that mess happened, so I don’t think they were on. I’ll go grab a couple,” said Imani before she retraced their path out of the restaurant.

Imani came back dragging two floor lamps that worked just fine, and the women got busy blocking the windows. They stacked the wooden tables that hadn’t been completely splintered against the wrapped windows, and were pretty satisfied with the results before they picked their way to the kitchen.

Stella paused in front of the mahogany bar and sighed happily. “Look at all those bottles that aren’t busted. Minor miracle—but still a miracle.”

“I can’t believe there are any still intact,” said Imani.

“Don’t question it. Just be glad about it,” said Stella as she detoured around a fallen timber and headed to hallway that led to the kitchen. But she stopped abruptly and gasped.

“What is it?” Mercury hurried around the timber to catch up with her friend, followed her gaze, and mirrored her gasp. “Holy shit. This is better than a minor miracle.”

The long wall that led to the kitchen was lined, floor to ceiling, with bottles of wine.

Imani joined them. “Wow. I do love vino, but until now I never noticed what a great wine collection Timberline has.”

“And most of those bottles are unbroken. Call the Vatican—we are looking at a full-fledged miracle,” said Stella. “But we’re not idiots, so let’s ignore this bounty until everyone is fed and put to bed.”

“Then we get drunk?” asked Mercury, only half kidding.

“No. Then we share a couple bottles. Getting drunk on the first night of an apocalypse sounds like what would happen in one of those zombie movies where everyone dies,” said Stella.

“Imani and I were just talking about those movies,” Mercury said as they entered the kitchen. “How living the plot of one—minus the actual zombies—isn’t as satisfying as one might think it would be.”

“I gotta agree with you two on that,” said Stella. “Hey, the kitchen looks like it’s in surprisingly good shape.”

“Probably because it doesn’t have any windows. Windows are hell during an apocalypse, but it’s also completely dark in here,” said Imani. “Try the lights. Maybe we’ll get lucky and they weren’t on when the blast hit.”

Stella ran her hand over the inside wall of the kitchen and flipped up a row of lights. “Nah, nothing. It figures. Look at the stove and the grill—there’s still food out. They were cooking when it happened.”

“Let’s drag the lamps in here,” said Mercury. While she and Imani felt for sockets to plug the floor lamps into, Stella moved around the kitchen like it was her second home.

“I’ll bet I can find something that will help.” Stella took her phone from her pocket and flipped on its flashlight. She shone it around the kitchen. “Ha! I knew it.” She pulled a heavy-duty flashlight from its wall mount and pressed the “On” button. White light flooded the kitchen. “The coolers are back here. Let’s check out what we have to work with.”

“Hang on. Here we go. Let there be light!” Mercury said dramatically as the floor lamps bloomed, washing the kitchen in yellow. “Oh fuck! That’s disgusting.” The light illuminated pools of congealed blood in front of the stove and grill.

“Well, at least someone got the bodies out of here. Step around the blood. There’ll be something back here to clean it. All decent commercial kitchens have a great cleanup system.”

Grimacing, Mercury and Imani tiptoed around the rust-colored puddles as they followed Stella into the bowels of the kitchen. “Are you ever sorry you didn’t stay in culinary school?” asked Mercury as she picked up pots from the floor and helped Imani lift a toppled metal shelf out of their way.

“Only after a conference with an especially ignorant parent or when I check my bank account.” She glanced back at Mercury and shrugged. “Weird that I’ll probably never have to deal with either from here on out. Ooh, here they are! We have two cold storage units and what looks like”—Stella paused and opened a door to an enormous closet—“a fucking fantastic pantry.” Dried goods had fallen from some of the shelves, but the room was loaded with supplies. “Which means the cold storage units are probably filled too.” Stella rushed to open the metal doors to the two refrigerated units and clapped her hands happily. “Yep! This is excellent, though we’re going to need to pack snow in here so that the temp in the frozen storage stays cold enough.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just put the frozen stuff outside in the snow?” Mercury asked.

“Yes, if you want to take a chance on bears and whatever-the-hell else they have up here eating it before we can,” said Imani.

“Exactly,” said Stella.

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