<div align="center"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: impact;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Kandie Fletcher</span></span></div><hr/><div class="floatright">(http://i982.photobucket.com/albums/ae306/ameliacasey/alba-kandie.jpg)</div>This day started the same darn way every other day had since I picked my ass up and got out of the nowhere small town I grew up in and escaped to find a nowhere small camp to keep growing up in. Some might argue I was already grown, but this little thing has a lot of learning to do. For starters, waking up in the cockpit of an old, stripped airplane and feeling like it's home. It had been months since every bit of sanity went down the drain along with clean clothes, fresh fruit and cold milk. Months, since I left my town on the run after a couple of guys tried to have their way with me. It wasn't my fault the stupid sons of old Gary Heller thought they'd win a fight with my knives. They'd seen me chop up their meat often enough to know the blade was almost like a natural extension of my hand, so cornering me and attacking me when I had the kitchen axe in my hand? Yeah, not a good idea.<br/><br/>I'd wiped the blood of my knife into the ragged remains of the skirt and apron they'd torn off me, thrown a bunch of stuff into my old tote bag and took off. The thing was soft, worn, misshapen and hell to carry around because it could only be worn on one shoulder at a time, but Christ was I glad to have it at that moment. I stuffed it with my knives, my bags of spices, a whole lot of beef jerky and other random items who all got exchanged for water, food and a place to lay my head down in the next couple of months. All I had when I ended up at the airplane boneyard was my axe and the spices. The axe was vital, and the spice... well it didn't weigh the bag down and I just couldn't let it go. So call me crazy.<br/><br/>When I got to the boneyard I was allowed to stay, and I'm not even gonna pretend it was because of my assurance that I'd make the best food they'd ever get to eat out here. Nah, I was allowed to stay because I was a pretty thing in tiny shorts and a wrapped shirt that didn't even stay up enough to cover my bra. Of course, after a few days they knew I wasn't lying about the food. From shortly after I got there I was officially the cook.<br/><br/>I hummed an old Johnny Cash song while I got the food ready in the kitchen, the words oddly ironic since my knife had gutted so many humans before it touched these rabbits.<strong><em>"Tell the rambler, the gambler, the back biter... Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down..."</em></strong>The skin came off easily and I put it aside to be worked on later, the insides went into separate pots. One for broth, one for stew. Meat for the stew, bones for the broth, some of my precious herbs and a few more things I found in my stash... Yeah I was up early, did I mention that? The guys who did the night shift needed food and food they would get. The rabbits were a nice addition to the canned goods cocktail I'd planned so it turned out time was a good thing.<strong><em>"He called my name and my heart stood still, when he said John go do my will"</em></strong><br/><br/>Once I'd sifted the broth and turned it into a delicious rabbit stew old Gary Heller would have proudly put on his diner menu, I sauntered with it out to the mess hall and put it on the make shift serving table.<strong>"Food for you darlings,"</strong>I announced and winked at the guys on the nearest table.<strong>"Someone's gonna get something sweet for those rabbits you're about to enjoy."</strong>Oh it wasn't a unique thing to find meat in the kitchen when I got there, but men need to feel appreciated and a woman needs her sweetness shared every now and then...<br/><strong><br/>"Morning sweets,"</strong>I said to the little missy who walked around with that sex'n guns on legs bodyguard. I liked Avalon. She helped when she was asked to and she seemed nice enough. Dixie Mae was difficult to dislike so why bother, but I wasn't sure if it was the perfect ass or the perfect aim.<br/>Another fine day in the desert... Wait. Was that a turtle?