head. “No, she’s been with us all along.”
“Liar. I know her from somewhere, though.”
“Maybe right here?”
“Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me. I’ll figure this out.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair.
Stealth stepped back into the main room. “Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes,” she said. “The wine should have just enough time to breathe.”
“It was only a step above Two Buck Chuck before the end of the world,” said Danielle. Her lips twitched into a smile. “I’m not sure if breathing’s going to help it any.”
“Still,” said Barry, “it’ll be better than that fruit cider–stuff they’re brewing down in Larchmont.”
“I’ve got a bottle of that, too,” said St. George. He tipped his chin at Danielle. “Did you finish gathering up all those helmets?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I went out with Cesar ridingshotgun and got maybe two-thirds of them. We might’ve missed a couple.” She sank the corkscrew into the top of the wine bottle. “Something kind of strange I meant to tell you. There’s a lot of military helmets out there.”
“There were several units of Marines and National Guard in Los Angeles before the fall,” said Stealth.
Danielle nodded. “I’d expect some, yeah, with all the stuff Legion scavenged. The percentage just seems kind of high. I mean, didn’t we gather up a lot of that stuff when we were setting up the Mount?”
“Has anyone else thought that we need a new name?” asked Barry. He’d already started in on the first loaf of bread. “I mean, this is the Mount here, yeah, but are we going to call everything inside the Big Wall ‘The Mount’ or what?”
“That would be up to the civilian government,” said Stealth, “would it not?”
“Yeah,” he said, “sorry. Shouldn’t bore you with shop talk.”
The cork popped on the wine. Salad was tossed. Pasta was drained. Danielle sat down across from Barry. St. George and Stealth flanked them. They passed the salad and the bread. St. George poured the wine.
They paused with their glasses in the air. He realized they were looking at him. “Toast from the host,” said Barry.
“Yeah,” Danielle said. “This may be the last bottle of real wine in the world. Let’s do it justice.”
“There are nineteen pre-outbreak bottles in the Mount,” said Stealth. “Several families hold on to them for special occasions.” St. George gave her a look and her shoulders slumped. She gave a forced, awkward shrug. “Or so I have heard.”
St. George raised his glass. “I guess … to bringing the world back to life.”
“In the good way,” smiled Barry.
“In the good way,” agreed St. George.
Their glasses chimed together over the bread basket. Stealth put her lips on the rim, but barely let a drop touch her tongue.
Barry began to load up his plate. Danielle, seated across from the dark-haired woman, had another sip of wine and seemed to relax. Stealth tore off a small piece of bread, then set it down on her plate. She pushed at some of the pasta with her fork, impaled it on the tines, and then pushed it back off onto the plate. She reached for her wineglass.
Danielle watched her fidget. “Is everything okay?”
Stealth straightened up with the wineglass. “I usually eat alone,” she said. “I feel somewhat self-conscious.”
Barry shoved another wad of tomato-soaked bread into his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he said around the food. “Everyone’s watching my horrible table manners. Especially now that I’ve drawn attention to them.”
Stealth’s lips twitched into something close to a nervous smile and she stuck her fork back into the pasta. She guided the bite around the plate.
Danielle ate some pasta and swallowed some more wine. “So,” she said, “how long have you two been … together?”
St. George and Stealth exchanged a glance. “I never really thought about it,” he said. “It just sort of happened over time,
“Liar. I know her from somewhere, though.”
“Maybe right here?”
“Your Jedi mind tricks won’t work on me. I’ll figure this out.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair.
Stealth stepped back into the main room. “Dinner should be ready in fifteen minutes,” she said. “The wine should have just enough time to breathe.”
“It was only a step above Two Buck Chuck before the end of the world,” said Danielle. Her lips twitched into a smile. “I’m not sure if breathing’s going to help it any.”
“Still,” said Barry, “it’ll be better than that fruit cider–stuff they’re brewing down in Larchmont.”
“I’ve got a bottle of that, too,” said St. George. He tipped his chin at Danielle. “Did you finish gathering up all those helmets?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. I went out with Cesar ridingshotgun and got maybe two-thirds of them. We might’ve missed a couple.” She sank the corkscrew into the top of the wine bottle. “Something kind of strange I meant to tell you. There’s a lot of military helmets out there.”
“There were several units of Marines and National Guard in Los Angeles before the fall,” said Stealth.
Danielle nodded. “I’d expect some, yeah, with all the stuff Legion scavenged. The percentage just seems kind of high. I mean, didn’t we gather up a lot of that stuff when we were setting up the Mount?”
“Has anyone else thought that we need a new name?” asked Barry. He’d already started in on the first loaf of bread. “I mean, this is the Mount here, yeah, but are we going to call everything inside the Big Wall ‘The Mount’ or what?”
“That would be up to the civilian government,” said Stealth, “would it not?”
“Yeah,” he said, “sorry. Shouldn’t bore you with shop talk.”
The cork popped on the wine. Salad was tossed. Pasta was drained. Danielle sat down across from Barry. St. George and Stealth flanked them. They passed the salad and the bread. St. George poured the wine.
They paused with their glasses in the air. He realized they were looking at him. “Toast from the host,” said Barry.
“Yeah,” Danielle said. “This may be the last bottle of real wine in the world. Let’s do it justice.”
“There are nineteen pre-outbreak bottles in the Mount,” said Stealth. “Several families hold on to them for special occasions.” St. George gave her a look and her shoulders slumped. She gave a forced, awkward shrug. “Or so I have heard.”
St. George raised his glass. “I guess … to bringing the world back to life.”
“In the good way,” smiled Barry.
“In the good way,” agreed St. George.
Their glasses chimed together over the bread basket. Stealth put her lips on the rim, but barely let a drop touch her tongue.
Barry began to load up his plate. Danielle, seated across from the dark-haired woman, had another sip of wine and seemed to relax. Stealth tore off a small piece of bread, then set it down on her plate. She pushed at some of the pasta with her fork, impaled it on the tines, and then pushed it back off onto the plate. She reached for her wineglass.
Danielle watched her fidget. “Is everything okay?”
Stealth straightened up with the wineglass. “I usually eat alone,” she said. “I feel somewhat self-conscious.”
Barry shoved another wad of tomato-soaked bread into his mouth. “Don’t worry,” he said around the food. “Everyone’s watching my horrible table manners. Especially now that I’ve drawn attention to them.”
Stealth’s lips twitched into something close to a nervous smile and she stuck her fork back into the pasta. She guided the bite around the plate.
Danielle ate some pasta and swallowed some more wine. “So,” she said, “how long have you two been … together?”
St. George and Stealth exchanged a glance. “I never really thought about it,” he said. “It just sort of happened over time,
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