Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 81

Lee Jun-Seo led me upstairs to his hideout. We had to climb three floors to reach an office corner overlooking the rail yard's parking lot. I didn't fully trust the guy, so I kept my fingers around the knife that I wrangled free from the psychos, ready to strike, even kill him if he tried to knock me out.

However, as soon as I opened the office door, I could smell the meat stew simmering in a large saucepan in the middle of the room, heated by a portable gas stove. I strode toward the food, opened the lid using the mitts sitting by the stove, and saw that mushrooms were in the stew.

"Meat! Real meat! And fresh!" I exclaimed.

Lee Jun-Seo looked at me as if I was crazy. "Yes."

"Are these porcini?" I gestured to the mushrooms.

Lee Jun-Seo made a curt nod.

"How?"

He pointed north toward the woods. I grunted, impressed. He then took two bowls from a cabinet and handed one to me. "Eat."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Why are you helping me?" I slipped, dropping my pretenses. "You don't know me."

He hesitated to answer for a moment, but then he pointed at my shirt. "Not your blood."

I looked down at it, realized that my shirt was covered all the way. "Er, no..."

"That's people's blood. Not sick ones."

"Um, it's not..."

"You killed some." It wasn't a question but a statement.

"Look, I can explain—"

"Good. Very good," he said, looking impressed. "You killed them. You're a friend."

Okay, that's simple enough, I thought. I crouched down across from him over the portable stove.

I watched him scoop out his serving first and then waited for him to take the first bite. Not to sound paranoid or anything, but I had a very long, bad day. The next thing I wanted was this man turning psycho on me and roofied the food. I had no intention of ending up strung on a hook as he bled me to death.

He stared back at me. Thinking on my feet, I said, "Where I grew up, I was taught it's pretty rude to eat first before the host. Sorry."

The man blinked, shrugged, and then dug into his food. I watched him a little longer, faking a smile.

Well, I guess it's safe then. I looked down at my bowl, scooping some of the meat with my spoon, hesitating whether I should take a bite. I had no idea what it was.

"It's a rabbit," he answered as if he read my mind and continued to devour his meal.

"Oh. I never have that before."

He merely let out a grunt.

I took a cautious first bite, though it tasted more like a meatier and earthier chicken. It wasn't bad, I mean, it was a full meal. I could even taste butter and olive oil, and there were parsnips, onions, potatoes, and garlic mixed in the pot. I caught sight of the bow resting by his sleeping bag. "You hunted them yourself?"

"Yes."

"Where'd you get the rest of the ingredients?"

He shrugged. "Around."

"Well, they're not very easy to find nowadays."

He shrugged again. "Yes."

Ah, a man with a few words, I thought. "So, what should I call you by? Can I call you, Lee?" I asked.