A two-fingered salute was Jere’s returned greeting. Watching him for a couple minutes, she tried to see the fun or relaxation in having one’s hands thrust into soapy water, fingers touching bits of soggy food left over from a stranger’s meal. Kendall’s normally strong stomach protested the envisioning.
“That’s fucking disgusting,” she replied, pulling a face and looking away from the pile of dirty dishes that were left. “That’s why dishwashers were invented, dude. Washing up after someone else’s meal is so much worse than actually killing the animal for the meat.”
Jere confirmed that there more than likely wasn’t anything left, unless she prepared something herself, and Kendall let out an exasperated sigh. “Figures. Fucking pigs take more than they need.” Probably wasn’t worth checking the ovens for anything. No one ever made extra, and if they did, it was for personal use only.
Snorting derisively, she repeated, “‘A few rabbits?’” Rolling her eyes, she shoved a pot a few inches to the side, giving herself a bit more sitting room and leaving more space between her and the warmth seeping off the metal. It was hot enough in the kitchen without that extra heat touching her skin. “A few rabbits isn’t going to feed a couple thousand people. Maybe it will in a couple months, when there’s hundreds instead of thousands.”
Kendall dangled the earbuds from her fingers, giving the man a visual answer. “New iPod. Or, new-old iPod, but still. Different entertainment. I had to wait for the chick and her husband to leave their room before I could sneak in and nab it.” There was pride in her voice, defiant against Jere’s pending disapproval. Unlike most, Kendall saw no difference between stealing from the dead and stealing from the living.
Placing her hands behind her on the counter, she leaned back, getting a bit more comfortable.