7
Clear of the Naval base, out through the bypasses she’d set in the electric fence, they were resting between a pair of containers in the shipping yard that blocked the worst of the slashing rain.
“Do you have any food?”
She should have thought of that, and dug out a pair of MREs from her pack. “Pick one.”
“What’s the difference?”
She shrugged. “Twenty-four so-called menus; these are two of them. Once you get rid of all the extra wrappings, heaters, and candy, they’re all pretty much the same.”
“Why do you get rid of the candy?” He took one and began futilely tugging at one corner.
Snapping down with her wrist, her Infidel blade dropped into her palm. Hitting the release, the anodized four-inch double-edged dagger snapped out of the front of the handle.
Ewing dropped his MRE pouch
