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TJ was the next one up, followed to the campfire a couple of minutes later by a still-groggy Chutes. His general lack of sleep showed. Akbar the Great and Tori were still nowhere to be seen.
Steve handed around coffee and started setting up to make bacon and eggs.
“Don’t like fish?” TJ sat in a short lawn chair, his foot propped up on a handy log, an Ace bandage still in evidence, though no sign of any swelling.
“What, them?” Steve waved his hand toward the stream.
“Ignore him.” Chutes slit open a package of bacon and handed it over. Found a bowl somewhere to crack eggs into, handing it over to Steve. Dug out a spatula. When he handed that over, Steve got the feeling he was being set up. Chutes was being too damn helpful.
This wasn’t Steve’s first season or even his second.
Steve
