A Match?

Was Murdock joking? Where did one even find a match anymore in Waterworld? Smokers maybe.

Riz swept his spear low, tripping one of the Depthers and trapping it in a net.

He thought about the lenses he carried around with him for fire starting, that would only work if the sky was clear, the sun was high, and there was enough time for the kindling to catch. Flint and steel was the best option, but he had sold most of his belongings before leaving Wayville and naturally assumed someone else would cover it anyway. He hadn't expected to be using it as a weapon against this disgusting scaly creatures. Did they even have a language? It was worth a try.

Riz put his foot down on the fallen Depther and pointed his spear at its throat, "Stop! What do you want from us?"

The creature gave out a gargling bark and batted at his spear. Riz shook his head.

"No talking then." He kicked and kicked at the thing until it stopped flailing and then he rolled it overboard and out of the net. Then he smelled something, was that oil?

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