the double doors. Hunter didn’t recognize the shabby exterior, especially since the color showed the faded appearance that came with six years of neglect. Some days he wished for Red Lobster, but actual seafood was out of the question in the middle of the continent. Hunter missed fried shrimp.
The crowd surged forward as the cafeteria doors opened. Hunter and Ginger were swept up in the tide of kids flowing inside.
At the hostess station a girl on a barstool jiggled an industrial-sized can labeled hominy beans. She eyed each person from beneath her rainbow-colored stocking cap as they passed. Ginger dropped her One Dollar casino chip from The Teller House into the can and Hunter did the same.
“I don’t know where they find these grumpy girls,” Ginger said, looking back over her shoulder. “They make you feel like you’re committing a crime just to get something to eat.
“Yeah, I miss Brittany’s personal service with a smile.”
The line dwindled until they were at the front where kids grabbed their plates and shuffled off to find seats. Hunter received a plate of something brown and something green and a couple of yellow lumpy things. His stomach rolled from the smell, but after working all day for his three casino chips, he was going to eat. He managed to thank the greasy-haired girl who handed him the plate. She sneered and Hunter quickly moved away before she flung her serving spoon and peppered him with something brown.
Ginger directed his attention upward. “I bet I made one of those candles today.”
Several chandeliers hung from the ceiling and each one held twelve white candles in a flaming circle. At least the gloomy kids living in Denver were treated to a cheery glow at dinner. Judging by the contents on his tray, Hunter mused it might be better to eat the slop in the dark.
“You got to stir a pot of boiling pig fat?” he asked.
“You don’t have to make it sound so unpleasant.”
“Who do you think was cutting the fat out of the pig?”
Ginger made a yucky face, but that was probably caused by the stuff on her plate. Hunter followed her to an empty table and then left to fetch waters. When he returned, some skinny kid with dirty hands and long, black hair that hung in greasy strands stood at their table. The kid caught sight of Hunter’s approach and leaned closer to Ginger.
“Why you want to be like that? I was hoping we could keep each other warm tonight.”
Hunter placed the drinks on the table and crossed his arms. “Go away.”
“Whoa! Hey, nice hair. This is between her and me. What’s your problem?”
“She’s my sister, and you smell like a pile of crap. Now take off.”
Ginger tapped Hunter’s leg. He ignored her and glared at the skinny kid.
The kid held up his hands, smiled a yellow row of teeth, and backed away. Hunter watched him until he sat down with a bunch of other kids. They all laughed, but Hunter paid them no more attention.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine. He was just rude. You’re lucky he backed down.”
Hunter snorted. “That kid, are you serious? I would have torn him a new one.”
“I realize that, but we’re trying to keep a low profile, not beat up kids with bad manners.”
Hunter conceded with a nod and then forked in his food as fast as he could without thinking about what it might be and how many foreign objects fell into it while it was prepared. Then he washed it all down with water that smelled like eggs. Hopefully, it was purified, but Hunter wished he had brought his iodine.
Ginger picked at her food, following every bite with a drink. She sputtered and started coughing.
“Are you choking?” Hunter asked, rising from his seat.
“At the door,” she managed to say.
Hunter tracked her gaze and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end when he recognized him. A ripple of anger stopped his breath for a moment.
Patrick stood at the hostess station, giving the little girl on the barstool a hard time. He was bigger than Hunter remembered, but that red hair set him apart like a brushfire. Patrick flipped his casino chip into the can and patted the girl on top of her rainbow cap.
Hunter turned back. He drained his water in two giant gulps.
“What do we do?” Ginger asked.
“Finish dinner. We’ll go outside and follow him when he comes out. Hopefully, he’ll lead us to Catherine.” Hunter wiped his mouth and stood up with his