So there I was, wiping down the espresso machine. It'd been fairly quiet that morning, barely anyone on the early train when I'd come in, and the second barista hadn't arrived when they were supposed to. But like I said, quiet, so I wasn't worried when I couldn't reach them on their mobile. No fuss. I hate fuss.
I was wiping down the espresso bar when the first customer came in, about an hour after we'd opened. I was looking down, refusing to look up, because the customer was shuffling. I hate customers shuffling, strolling, sauntering. It means they're not in a hurry and they're unsure what they want. They usually stand there a good minute or two staring at the menu before saying "Latte?" with the conviction of a child that knows it's somewhere it shouldn't be.
Another few started shuffling in behind the first, and I decided I'd let them stew enough. I looked up.
The first guy was missing his jaw and one of the arms of his business suit was empty, the other hanging loose from its seams. Behind him was a bloated woman in a running clothes, behind her a girl in a grayed security officer uniform. All of them had cyanotic skin and missing soft tissue. Doing six months of a nursing degree makes you think like that sometimes. It also helps dealing with the compulsion to gag at the sight of that sort of thing.
They weren't doing anything, just sort of standing there, swaying, the bloated woman dripping bile onto the floor. I looked to the back room, could hear being dishes being done and hoped the barista would stay out there.
I did the only thing I could think of: "So uh, three cappuccinos?" They each groaned then moved to where the drinks are served, each leaving a trail of whatever fluids they were leaking. I thought about how that'd all just been mopped and how it'd have to be done again, then suppressed a mad giggle. If I didn't keep control now I wouldn't get it back.
"Yeah, on the house this morning." I marked each cup like normal and lined them up on the bar, started making the drinks. After the milk stopped steaming I heard the barista had stopped working on the dishes. The back door slammed, which meant she was onto garbage now, still keeping her out back. Good.
The filters we use are pretty heavy, I'd joked about how mace-like they were to someone who'd understand, but now I looked at one, weighed it in my hand, then looked at the corpses waiting for their drinks and decided against it. Fighting would probably mean losing.
I was just finishing the drinks when the barista stomped out onto the floor. She looked at the drinks, saw I was nearly done, looked at the bin, saw it was nearly empty, then turned and stomped her way out back without looking directly at the people waiting. The 'customers' watched her but didn't follow. I exhaled and started serving up their cups.
"Allright, I've got a tall cappuccino, a tall cappuccino and a tall cappuccino." They didn't move. "We call our small cups the tall. You know, just to be confusing."
That got them moving. With dexterity I thought would be lacking in a walking corpse, the first two picked up their drinks and started shuffling towards the door. The last one, the security guard, stopped, looking at the drink. I recognised her. When she'd been alive I'd thought she was kind of cute, but severe. I guess that's what happens when you have to deal with male security guards all day. Anyway, she finally reached out her hand just short of the drink, made a grasping gesture and waved her hand up and down. I bit back a smart comment.
"Oh, sure," I said and placed a cardboard sleeve around the drink. That satisfied her, apparently, because she picked the cup up and started toward the door. I waited, watching her. She took a mouthful while she was walking, drink spilling out of what looked like a bite through her throat. Once she was out the door I ran as fast as I could, leaping the trails of slime, and slid it shut behind her, locking it.
I tried not to look out at the street and scampered back across the store, found the barista struggling with some garbage bags by the back door. It lead deeper into the building. She looked at me, and I must have been pulling some kind of face because she asked me what was wrong.
"Look, you'll see for yourself soon enough. Uh, do you know where the emergency exit for this place is?"