“Bullshit.” He smiles slightly at me. “I know that has to hurt.”
“It’s just a little stiff.”
Falk kicks off his shoes and enters the tent, going to one of the bags set off to the side. He pulls out a bottle of ibuprofen and hands me three of them along with a bottle of water from the cooler.
“Take them. It will help a little.”
I nod and take the pills.
“Want some help getting up?” Falk asks. “Walking around may loosen it up again. You should eat, too, so those pills don’t upset your stomach. After you eat, I’ll check it out and put a new bandage on it.”
“I can do it.” Using my hands for support, I manage to get myself to my feet. Falk takes a step forward, offering his hand to me, but I don’t take it. He leaves it there anyway in case I change my mind.
I hobble out of the tent. Caesar and Beck are out by the fire, trying to cook something in aluminum foil over the coals. Nearby, one of the camp stoves holds a bubb
ling pot of coffee.
“Want some?” Beck says with a smile as he holds up a coffee mug.
“Please,” I respond.
“I’ll get it.” Falk walks around the fire, ignoring Beck’s offered cup, and grabs a different mug to fill with coffee.
Beck glares and is about to say something when Caesar speaks up.
“We need to figure out what’s next,” he says. “Are we going to stay here or find more habitable ground?”
“We’re going to a group of apartments near here,” Falk says. He fills the mug from the pot and brings it to me.
“Says who?” Beck asks as he crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“It makes the most sense,” Falk replies. “One of the buildings isn’t damaged at all, and I have supplies there. It offers protection, and everyone can have their own living space but remain close to the group. There’s still running water there—enough to give us time to dig a well if we need to. It’s the best option for now.”
“It does make sense,” Caesar says.
Beck narrows his eyes at his friend.
“That’s not the point,” Beck mutters. “We’re just going to go to his apartment complex because he says so? That’s bullshit. There are other options.”
“It’s as good a plan as any,” Caesar says. “It’s not like we’re stuck there. If we come up with better arrangements later, we can change.”
“It’s bullshit,” Beck repeats.
Falk ignores their exchange and starts breaking down our tent. Ryan steps out of his own tent a minute later, stretching and rubbing his temple.
“How much of that scotch did we drink last night?” he asks.
“All of it,” Caesar responds.
“That’s what my head is telling me.” Ryan reaches his hand out, and he and Beck bump their fists together. “How about you, bro?”
“About the same,” Beck replies. “Want coffee?”
“Hell, yeah!” Ryan smiles, stretches again, and looks over at me. “Good morning!”
“Good morning,” I reply, smiling. Even hungover, Ryan is in a better mood than the rest of them.
Falk flashes me a look of warning, which I assume has to do with me speaking to the others. I raise my eyebrows at him. I know he doesn’t trust them, but it’s not like I can completely avoid talking.