“When was the last time you had a real meal, Penryn?” asks Obi. He holds the spoon just out of reach of my mouth. I swallow the saliva before answering.

“It’s been awhile.” I give him an encouraging smile, wondering if he’ll let me have that bite. He moves the spoon to his own mouth and I watch him eat it. My stomach grumbles in protest.

“Tell me, Obi,” says Raffe. “Just what kind of meat is this?”

I look back and forth between the soldiers, suddenly unsure if I’m hungry.

“You’d have to catch a lot of animals to feed this many people,” says Raffe.

“I was just about to ask you what kind of animals you’ve been hunting,” says Obi. “A guy your size must need a lot of protein to maintain your muscle mass.”

“What are you implying?” I ask. “We’re not the ones attacking people, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Obi looks sharply at me. “How do you know about that? I didn’t say anything about attacking people.”

“Oh, don’t give me that look.” I give him my best grossed-out-teenager expression. “You couldn’t possibly imagine that I’d want to eat a person, could you? That’s totally disgusting.”

“We saw a family,” says Raffe. “Half-eaten on the road.”

“Where?” asks Obi. He seems surprised.

“Not too far from here. You’re sure it wasn’t you or one of your men?” Raffe shifts in his chair as though to remind Obi he and his men are not exactly the friendly sort.

“None of mine would do it. They don’t need to. We have sufficient supplies and firepower to support everyone here. Besides, they got two of our men last week. Trained men with rifles. Why do you think we hunted you? We don’t normally go after strangers. We’d like to know who did it.”

“It wasn’t us,” I say.

“No, I don’t suppose it was you.”

“He didn’t do it either, Obi,” I say. His name tastes foreign in my mouth. Different, but not bad.

“How do I know that?”

“We have to prove our innocence now?”

“It’s a new world.”

“What are you, the sheriff of the New Order? Arrest first, then ask questions later?” I ask.

“What would you do if you caught them?” asks Raffe.

“We could use people who are, shall we say, a little less civilized than the rest of us? Precautions would have to be taken, of course.” Obi sighs. It’s clear he doesn’t like the idea but seems resigned to do what needs to be done.

“I don’t get it,” I say. “What would you do with a bunch of cannibals?”

“Sic them on the angels, of course.”

“That’s crazy,” I say.

“In case you hadn’t noticed. The whole world has gone crazy. It’s time to adapt or die.”

“By throwing crazy at crazy?”

“By throwing whatever we have that might confuse or distract, or maybe even repulse them, if that’s even possible. Anything to keep their attention from the rest of us while we organize,” says Obi.