"Sausage. Yeah, I'm definitely thinking sausage. And pancakes. What are you thinking?"
Deion shrugged apathetically. "I could do sausage."
"Cool. I'll hit the hot entrée line. You grab the drinks?" Alex suggested.
"Sure," Deion acquiesced.
But in all honesty, food was the last thing on Deion's mind.
Today marked one week since their run-in with the mysterious and terrifying creature on the old drama set, and still they had not figured out what to do about it.
Reaching the communal dining hall, they split off and navigated through the slow-moving crowds to their respective stations. Deion grabbed four cups, filling two with water and two with the reconstituted powdered beverage that passed for "orange juice" this many years since losing contact with any part of the world with the climate to grow such a fruit. He wondered how long the concentrate supply would last. Probably longer than he would, if there were more of those monsters prowling the compound, he ceded.