Freda Pov
I squeezed the cloth out over the basin. The water turned a pale pink color as it dripped off the edge of the oak bench. Across the kitchen, Rex was counting the remaining dried fish strips on a grease-stained piece of paper. He had his iron pipe resting across his knees, and his pale face looked sunken under the dim yellow light of the single candle.
"We have twelve strips left," Rex said.
"Cut them in half," Urdon said.
"That is a short meal for seventeen people," Rex said.
"It is the only meal we have until the tunnel is clear," Urdon replied.
