485

You separate out the food and bring enough for the meal to the campfire.

"Oh good, you can put the food right here on the blanket. I made a space for it," Jaime says, pointing to a small stretch of plastic near the edge of the fire.

"Jaime, I told Reilly he could cook for the group," you say.

Jaime stares back with a confused expression. "Really? Okay. I have other things to do anyway. I'll be around if he needs any help." He wipes ash from his hands on a rag hanging from his belt and walks off.

"So what do we got here?" Reilly strides up from behind, looking the part. He wears a skull-and-crossbones bandanna over his hair and a long white scrap of linen down his pants like an apron. He bends to look at the food items on the plastic mat. "Hmm…not much to work with, but lucky for us, where I used to work, we had to make do with whatever we had on hand. I once made bouillabaisse from packets of powdered seafood stock, canned clam chowder, and leftover TV dinner vegetable medley. Tasted like Paris moved to paradise. Anyway, I'll try to use what we got to make a good soup. I hope the group isn't too pissed with the amount they get. Anyway, I better get cooking."