Chapter Fifty-Five
Sam and Chief walked back from Café B, each with a cup of coffee. It was five in the morning and both were up, early as usual. Since almost a hundred people had left, having rooms for the night in Shelter 189 wasn’t a problem.
Sam had only started drinking coffee a couple of years before Shelter 89 had run out of it, and he was glad to taste some again. “This is really terrible,” he commented with a dry smile. “I know it’s been twenty years or so since I had any, but this wasn’t what it tasted like.”
Chief chuckled. “They recently found a warehouse with a few pallets of the stuff. It was thirty years expired. They say it’s still good, but I don’t think they know what it is supposed to taste like.”
Nonetheless, they kept drinking it.
As they walked, Jenny, carrying W
