So much had happened. The 8th Battalion had killed the only man he had come to consider a friend. Bracker had been a good man. Darvin and Washington might as well be a million miles away. He was on the run with a man he barely knew, with no idea where they were going or why he wasn"t trying to head out on his own.
With a sigh, Mason opened the bathroom door. Alaric was sitting on one of the two beds, eating a sandwich. Mason"s stomach rumbled again. Alaric pointed at the nightstand where a pitcher of water and a glass sat beside a second sandwich. Mason sat on the bed and poured water into the glass, downing the whole glass before he picked up the sandwich. They ate in silence and by the time he was done with the sandwich and had drained the pitcher, Mason could barely keep his eyes open.
