The two horsewomen of the apocalypse still win, despite their dwindling numbers.

Do you think people have noticed that I'm around?”
“I notice when you're not. Does that count?

sometimes he feels a pull towards Francesca. She was the reason he came into the group. It was her misery that united them and somehow her personality that kept them together when everyone split. She’s the one that writes the letter to kept the world informed. She listens to the news every hour to make sure everyone’s safe. So tonight he walks away even though she’s moved forward to give him a hug. Because he wants to kiss her, and knows she’ll hate him for it and that he’ll hate himself. He knows it’s for all the wrong reasons and that he’ll end up thinking of Tara Finke and her Brazilian peacekeeper and will Trombal and how he doesn’t do romance, but it eats the space between him and Francesca every time he’s in the room with her.

Come here,” she says.
“No, you come here.”
“I said it first.”
“Rock paper scissors.”
“No. Because you’ll do nerdy calculations and work out what I chose the last six times and then you’ll win.”
Will pushes away from the table and his hand snakes out and he pulls her toward him and Tom figures that Will was always going to go to her first.

Stop. Revive. Survive

He came third in the state for woodwork,”
Francesca explains. “We actually had to be proud of him for a whole week. Tough times.