Barry ‘Bardog’'s Arc

Chapter 5 of 13

Barry walked back inside and found the woman stacking empty crates behind the bar. She worked quickly, without asking where things went, reading the space the way he read people. He needed to set up the main room before anyone else showed up. She'd brought an old neon sign with her, wrapped in cloth at the bottom of her pack. The glass tubes were intact, pre-war quality that still held their charge. Barry tested the connection and the word OPEN flickered to life in pink light. He hung it in the front window where anyone passing could see it. The woman nodded at the sign and pulled out a rubber mat from behind the counter, faded letters spelling WELCOME across cracked yellow surface. She set it at the entrance without saying anything. Barry looked at the room and saw what was missing. The bottles on the shelves sat too neat, untouched. No one would believe this place served drinks if nothing looked used. He pulled down two bottles of the pre-war stock Sherrie had traded him and poured a measure into glasses on the counter. The woman understood immediately and wiped down the bar with a rag, leaving damp streaks that caught the neon light. She set out clean glasses in a row and hung a towel over her shoulder like she'd been working there for months. The door opened and three people walked in, faces Barry didn't recognize. They stopped when they saw the lit sign and the woman behind the bar. One of them pointed at the bottles and asked what it cost. Barry told them the price, same as he'd tell anyone, and watched the woman pour without hesitation. She moved like someone who'd worked a hundred bars before the world broke. The travelers paid, drank, and left without trouble. Barry realized he'd just opened for business, and no one had tried to take it from him yet. The woman met his eyes across the counter and he knew she'd stay as long as the work held.