Jocco snatched the flask from Terry's waist.
"I'll take that, Jocco," Rick commanded. "And yours too," he gestured to Leeda.
She handed it over obediently.
"But, Rick," Fatso began.
"No arguments. Share and share alike. I'll dole it out. Now get the parts," he told Leeda. "You go with her, Fatso."
As soon as they were back, the men began to move off. For the first time Leeda lost control of herself. "For God's sake, aren't you going to at least bury him?"
Rick's face twisted with its wry grin as he walked back to her. "Give the Sand Vulture a break. He's got to eat."
"But ..." she began to protest.
Swiftly he was beside her, doing something to her fingers. The pain surged up her arm; brought her stomach up into her throat gaggingly.
Then he released her. Gave her a shove. "When I say move, that's what I mean. Get going."