Chapter 17
After the sounds of Herbert running through the forest dissolved into nothing more than the wind through the leaves, Andy began to cook a meager soup. Dried beef and vegetables, some flour to thicken the water…nothing much, but the smell of it warming over the fire made his stomach rumble.
Behind him, he heard Sam wake again. When Andy turned toward him, Sam held his arms up. “Help me.”
Andy grinned and helped him into a sitting position, leaning him back against a wall of the cabin. “Feeling any better?”
Sam shrugged. “Eh.” His eyes shone feverishly in the firelight. With a nod at the pot cooking over the fire, he asked, “Is that for me?”
“Some of it,” Andy conceded. “It’s not my ma’s sweet potato pie, mind you, but it’ll do.”
Sam laughed. In the growing shadows, his
