Hope watched as Kelvin reached into a worn leather bag strapped to his side. The faint rustle of movement filled the shelter as his hand disappeared inside, rummaging for something.
Then, an aroma filled the air.
It wasn't much—just a subtle, smoky scent—but compared to the stale air they had been breathing, it was downright enticing.
Even Walker, who had been sprawled out like a corpse, twitched at the smell. His head turned, and though he still looked half-dead, his sunken eyes locked onto Kelvin's hand with sudden intensity.
Hope felt his stomach twist in response.
A moment later, Kelvin withdrew three wrapped portions of dried meat. Without a word, he tossed one toward Hope.
His reflexes took over, and he caught it mid-air.
A second portion sailed toward Walker, who snatched it up with surprising speed and immediately tore into it. He didn't even bother unwrapping it properly—just ripped through the covering with shaking hands and bit into the tough meat like a starved animal.
Hope raised a brow. Guy must be on the brink of collapse.
The last portion remained with Kelvin, who sat down again, unwrapping his meal with steady hands.
Hope glanced at the small package in his own hands.
The wrapping was rough and slightly greasy, but the weight of it was reassuring—solid, real food. He peeled it back carefully, revealing a dark, dry piece of meat, slightly shriveled but still packed with dense fibers.
His stomach clenched again.
Bringing it to his mouth, he took a bite.
The texture was tough, forcing him to chew for a while before the flavor really hit. It was salty, with a faint hint of smoke, but there was also something else—something bitter underneath it all.
Not the best thing he'd ever eaten, but far from the worst.
Across from him, Walker was already halfway done, chewing with loud, desperate bites, his bony fingers clutching the remaining piece like it might vanish at any moment.
Hope ate slower, savoring it.
He knew better than to rush food when he didn't know where his next meal was coming from.