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“They had a variety of them. As I’m sure you know, it’s a literal crap shoot which one you pick.

And don’t yell at me for saying crap.” He stayed silent, and she continued.

“Anyway, we put them in a bag and mixed them up, then took turns pulling one out without knowing what it was. I was lucky and got the cheese tortellini.” She paused and stared out into the night.

“Wow. Ten years later, I still remember which one I ate. Guess it was more memorable than I realized.” She shrugged.

“Anyway, it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t too nasty either.

If I was starving and no better alternatives were available, I’d eat it again.

But a few of my friends had to eat stuff that gave them.

..um...let’s say severe gastrointestinal distress. ”

He laughed at her polite way of saying they each ended up with a bad case of diarrhea. “I’m sure they did. You learn real quick which meals are safe and which ones will leave you hurting. The chicken burrito bowl is the worst, at least from my experience.”

“Yeah. I heard Cain got sick during that training mission in the Rockies. He turned green any time someone mentioned MREs—or burritos for that matter—for weeks afterward.”

Cain Foster was a retired Secret Service agent who was one of two leaders of the Trident Security Omega Team.

He had his first taste of an MRE on that trip, when a routine training exercise turned into a real mission to find a missing college student in foul weather.

His teammates, all of whom had served in branches of the military before being hired by the private security company, knew which meals to avoid.

So the poor guy got the ones nobody else wanted and suffered for his lack of experience with them.

They ate with little talking after that, each lost in their own thoughts and meal.

It had been a while since Doug ate an MRE, but surprisingly, the tamales weren’t half bad.

Either that or he was hungrier than he’d realized.

When those were gone, he dove into the risotto, a relatively dry biscuit, and the cookies.

Jenn must’ve been as hungry as he was since she ate the same.

Saving the breakfast and lunch packages for tomorrow, Doug gathered the leftovers and garbage, then brought them inside, stuffing them into the emergency bag and zipping it up to keep out any insects and prevent them from attracting any animals.

He turned on one of the camping lanterns that the helicopter had dropped off, lighting up the interior of the home.

It was larger than Diego and Maria’s, but instead of the exterior walls being constructed from wood, they were concrete, as was the floor.

The non-load-bearing interior walls were made of wood, while the roof was constructed of metal.

A thin full-size mattress on a wooden bed, with worn pillows and blankets, sat behind a wall and an open curtain that could be pulled to block the doorway.

Two woven straw mats, with pillows and blankets, were positioned on the opposite side of the living area, which consisted of an old table, chairs, and a small kitchen area.

An old potbelly stove stood in the corner—an unexpected find.

A tiny bathroom was located in the back corner and consisted of only a wooden toilet and a small square table beside it, which held a pitcher of water and a bowl.

While searching the other homes earlier, he discovered the locals had a rudimentary septic system in place, and for that he was grateful.

It wasn’t the greatest, but at least they didn’t have to go into the woods in the dark to relieve themselves as they’d both done earlier.

The chapel was one of the few buildings not hooked up to the system.

A nearby river and waterfall provided the village’s water supply.

A wood and metal chute had been built to funnel the water to the residents, but it was damaged in the quake.

Diego told them earlier that the falls were close enough to carry buckets to and from until the chute could be repaired.

Jenn inspected the home’s interior with her arms wrapped around her waist. “I will never in my life take for granted what I have. These poor people. This is all they have, and then to lose half the village and possibly family members or their own lives. I just...”

She shook her head but didn’t finish the sentence, nor did Doug need her to. He understood, having seen people living similarly in third-world countries during his tours in the Marines.

A noise caught their attention, and they turned to see a black and brown mid-sized mutt trot in through the open front door, its nails clicking on the concrete floor. A quick peek told Doug it was a female. Her tongue lolled from her mouth as her tail wagged, but she kept her distance from them.

He squatted and held out his hand. “Hey there, girl. Are we in your home?”

The dog whined and lowered her head but didn’t come closer.

“Here. Try this.” Jenn opened the emergency kit on the table, found one of the unopened MREs, and pulled out a biscuit and a package marked "Sudado con Papas y Carne" –stew with potatoes and meat.

After giving Doug the biscuit, she opened the coated cardboard bowl that came with the stew, added a little water, and used her finger to stir the contents.

Meanwhile, Doug held out half of the biscuit to the dog.

“C’mere, pup. Want something to eat?” Realizing he forgot where he was, he rolled his eyes, then repeated the question in Spanish.

That and the scent of food got her attention, and she inched forward, gently taking the biscuit from his hand.

At least he didn’t have to worry about losing a finger since she didn’t appear feral.

The dog gobbled the biscuit in two bites, and Doug gave her the second half.

She then scarfed down the stew when Jenn set the bowl on the floor.

Once it was empty, she refilled the bowl with some water, which disappeared as quickly as the food.

With a semi-full belly, the dog was content enough to wander over to the mats on the floor. She spun around three times on top of a blanket before lying down. With a sigh, she closed her eyes.

“Guess she does live here.” Jenn added more water to the bowl and placed it by the dog.

“Hopefully, she’ll alert us to any danger.”

Her gaze whipped to his. “Do you think we’re still in danger?”

He was an idiot, scaring her like that after the day they’d had. “No, I don’t. But I can’t predict the future, and I don’t know the area, so it’s good that she’s here with us. Animals sense threats before we notice anything.”

“Like right before the landslide, they all started going nuts.”

“Exactly.”

Doug secured the front door and the wooden shutters on the home’s three glassless windows.

He then grabbed the rescue blankets and the wool ones they got from the military supplies and handed Jenn one of each.

Since the sun went down, the temperature had dropped by at least fifteen degrees.

It was probably a lot warmer back at the commune, but they were now at a much higher elevation, and the blankets were needed.

While there was a small stack of wood beside the potbelly stove, Doug didn’t want to risk using it.

It was too dark out for him to climb onto the roof and inspect the exhaust pipe to make sure it wasn’t damaged during the quake and wouldn’t force carbon monoxide back into the cabin.

“You take the bed,” he told her. “I’ll put the other mat on the floor next to you and sleep on that.” He could have left the mat where it was and slept beside the dog, but he wanted to be near Jenn in case another earthquake or landslide struck.

He nearly jumped when she touched his arm, sending shocks of desire through his body. By the grace of God, he stayed still, though. “Doug, please. I’m not letting you sleep on the floor. There’s enough room on the bed.”

When he started to protest, she huffed, grabbed the lantern, and walked backward toward the bedroom, staring at him like he was the most idiotic man on the planet.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake. We’re both adults—we can sleep beside each other, platonically .

” She pivoted and turned her back to him.

“I won’t tell anyone. Besides, I’m too exhausted to jump your bones, and I wouldn’t anyway after you’ve made it plain as day that you don’t find me attractive. ”

What? She thinks I find her unattractive? What the fuck?