The family stayed in the pickup for a while longer, hugging each other and exchanging heartfelt words. Once the atmosphere had gradually returned to something warm and comforting, they got out one by one and started taking care of business.
Jerry and Clark carried the remaining supplies from the pickup into the cabin. Naomi went inside first to start the generator and clean up, while Laurie brought in the materials and documents she had picked up, helping her future mother-in-law along the way.
For the time being, no one wanted to wash the truck. They were probably waiting for the smell to fade first.
The cabin was not large, at least not compared to the old home Deathstroke had built for himself in the mountains of 40K Earth. It had one bedroom, one living room, and one bathroom, with a total area of around fifty square meters. That was all.
Fortunately, it was summer, and they could move in after doing a little tidying. The exhausted group did not spend long fussing over minor details. Before long, they gathered around the cabin's dining table and ate their first meal after escaping.
It was just simple convenience food: heated canned goods, with bread dipped into the thick bean soup inside. It would do.
"Half our food has been contaminated."
Rubbing his face, Jerry delivered the grim news. He shook his head, and in the fireplace glow, the gray in his hair was especially obvious.
"No one expected us to run into Dung Beetle throwing manure on the road. It didn't hit us, but a lot of the food in the truck bed can't be eaten anymore."
Strictly speaking, food smeared with filth could still be eaten. All they needed was an Indian chef, and no one would be able to tell