into his jacket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and started looking for his lighter.
Logan walked over and gave it to him, “We had to borrow it to start a fire.” Zack lit a cigarette, and asked Logan if he could have a coffee.
When Mirtza saw Zack work the lighter, he held out his hand, “How did you make fire? What kind of magic is that?”
“Dude, it’s not magic, it’s just a lighter.”
“Fire from nothing, it has to be magic.”
John replied, “A lighter is just a pressurized reservoir that holds a flammable liquid. When you depress the button on the side, and rotate the wheel, the liquid converts to a gas, which escapes out. The wheel is abrasive and rubs against a flint, which creates a spark, which in turn, ignites the gas. It’s not magic, just applied science. Mirtza, I’ve seen you do magic. Can’t you make fire with it?”
“If it is possible, none have shown me how. This is really quite ingenious. I know many who would like to see it, and hear more about it.”
John shook his head, “As for the ‘coffee’ Zack, it is something similar, but definitely not the same. I really don’t think you want any, as you are starting to get better.”
Mirtza let out a chuckle, “I did not brew it so strong this morning. I will get you a mug, and some options to lessen the bite.”
Mirtza brought the hot bean juice over to Zack, with some honey, “Sorry I don’t have what you call Baileys or Kahlua. Now give me a few minutes and I will prepare the morning meal.”
Lauren watched Mirtza open the same chest that he had put the dirty dishes into the previous night, and the thought of eating from them made her cringe. However, when he opened the chest, he pulled out clean plates and pots. I have to get a chest like that.
Mirtza tending the meal advised, “I hope you like pig, it's not as good as the ones we raised on my farm, but it does the trick.” In one pan, he laid out thick bacon strips, and in another, what everybody hoped was potatoes.
Eric inhaled deeply, smelled the fresh meat sizzling over the open fire, the scent of the hot bean juice wrapped around it. He looked at Lauren, “How do you guys feel today?”
“Fine.”
Eric was almost drooling as he looked at the fire, “So the meal last night was not drugged or poisoned. I’m starving, if you want to eat your lunch, go ahead. Today, I want some of that.”
Mirtza came over to the wagon, and handed Lauren a jar, “There are some here that prefer this for a hot beverage. Would you like me to boil some water, so you may try it?”
She opened the lid, and smelled fresh tea leaves, “Oh, yes please, that would be wonderful.” The desire for comfort fought against her instincts of distrust, and comfort won.
When the meal was ready, Mirtza called them over, “Zack, you stay there, I will bring some over to you. I do not want you moving, you could open one of your wounds.”
As the others gathered around the campfire, Zack tried to make himself more comfortable, and as he shifted his weight, he could feel a painful twinge in his chest. Reaching down to the source, he could feel the silver necklace he wore, and where it joined a large, fresh scab on his chest. He tried to pull the chain free, but that action only caused more pain. He reached behind his neck, undid the clasp, pulled it around and through the scab, until only the small clasp ring remained embedded in the wound. One quick tug and the chain came free. He then lowered the blanket that covered him, so he could evaluate the source of the pain. His shirt had been a synthetic blend, that obviously did not like the heat, having shrivelled up in most places. Large pieces of the plastic case had melted through his shirt, and had melded to his abdomen. As he picked at the plastic, he did manage to get several large pieces free with only minimal pain, but was shocked at what he saw. He quickly covered himself up, as Mirtza brought over a meal for him.
They ate a very