Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fish crackled over the fire. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, as often cooked fish wasn’t, but it wasn’t unpleasant either. With most of them only having ration bars over the past year, it was enough of a neutral scent that their mouths began to salivate.
“I’m still cold,” Katie complained.
“Would you rather take your chances back inside the pyramid?” Daniel asked.
She shook her head.
“You’re more than welcome to go to the shuttle and turn on the solar heat.”
She shook her head again.
“Then why exactly are you complaining again?”
She shrugged.
“Women,” Daniel muttered.
“So, what type of fish is this?” Ned asked.
“Redfish.”
“Like, actual redfish from earth?”
Phillip shook his head. “We’re calling it redfish because it’s red. A few look like pike, but not quite.”
