“You do realize that we’re on the same side,” said Marcus, readjusting his grip on the rabbits. They were soft and furry, and cuddly enough to creep him out when he remembered they were dead.

“The Wagon Has Priority,” Yoon repeated. “When Delarosa tells you, she’ll tell you, and she’ll probably tell you tonight, so stop worrying. Until that happens, however, I am a soldier and I will keep my commanding officer’s secrets.”

“Your commanding officer is a convicted criminal,” said Marcus.

“So am I, remember? We all have our baggage.” Yoon paused in her digging and looked up at him. “Delarosa does what nobody else is willing to do,” she said. “It’s kind of her thing. Last year that made her a criminal; now she might be the only hope for the human race.”

Marcus thought about this, leaning closer. “Have you really been that effective? Everything we’ve heard suggests you’re a thorn in their side, causing just enough trouble to keep the army off balance but not strong enough to gain any serious ground. Do you really think you can fight them off?”

“Not yet,” said Yoon. “But eventually, yes. After.”

“After what?”

Yoon smirked. “The Wagon Has Priority.”

“Good,” said Marcus, nodding. “I was hoping you’d say that again. Cryptic answers are the best.”

Yoon finished the hole—a narrow pit, like a posthole, about eight inches across and at least twice that deep. She moved over a few inches and dug a similar hole, keeping the piles of displaced dirt close at hand, and when the second hole was finished she knocked a tunnel between them, connecting them at the base. McArthur brought her a collection of twigs and sticks and bark, and the panther, alarmingly, brought a dead cat held lightly in its jaws. It left the thing at Marcus’s feet, eyed him mysteriously, and padded back into the twilight.

Yoon could barely suppress her laughter. Marcus stared at the mauled cat in shock. “You taught it to bring food back for you?”

“That’s a dog behavior,” she said, struggling to keep her laugh quiet. “When cats bring dead animals it’s because they think you’re helpless, and they’re trying to teach you. I had a cat in East Meadow that left dead mice on my porch all the time.” She grinned and patted his head. “Poor widdle Marcus, too helpless to hunt his own kitties.”

“I don’t know if I can eat my own kitties, either.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Yoon confided. “But meat is meat, and as little as cats have, two rabbits weren’t enough anyway. I’ll keep an eye on Mackey while she cooks, and let you know which bits are which.”

“I’ve never felt a more conflicted sense of gratitude,” said Marcus.