“Yes, yes. Elder big brothers. That’s what their name means in Duwamish. Sometimes they’re called ‘sasquatch’ for short. The sasquatch are shaped something like you and me, but they’re covered toes-to-top in hair, just like the hair I picked up back in the alley, and they’re an awful lot bigger than men tend to grow.”

Houjin peeked over at the counter, but didn’t see their food yet. He chewed on his bottom lip. “That’s why you call them big brothers. They look like us, but they’ve been here longer than we have.”

“Right. Now, I think a sasquatch has gotten inside the wall, same as those foxes and raccoons. That’s what we’re looking for. And finding him won’t be easy.”

Before she could add anything else, Houjin’s spine stiffened, and one of his fingers shot into the air. “You know what this reminds me of?”

Rector was dumbfounded. “It reminds you of something?”

“In China, there is something like it that lives in the mountains. It’s called the Kang Admi. The Snow Man.”

Rector sniffed. “She didn’t say anything about snow.”

“They call him that because he lives in the mountains. I’ve heard him called ‘yeti,’ but it’s like you said, Miss Angeline … no one ever sees him. I don’t know how many people believe, and how many people pass it around because they like a good story.”

“Yeti, huh?” she mused. “We’ve sure enough got mountains here, don’t we? Not so much snow this far down against the ocean, but still. Same principle—a big hairy thing shaped like a person, living in high rocks.”

Zeke picked at what was left of the paint on the table. It peeled away in chips, lodging under his fingernails. “Maybe it’s the same thing,” he suggested. “Or maybe they’re cousins, of a kind.”

Someone called out from the counter and Houjin leaped up. “Food!” he announced, and before anyone could offer to help, he darted off to collect it.

When everything had been brought over, he dove in with a pair of sticks the size and shape of pencils. When he noticed Rector looking at him with utter bafflement on his face, he said, through a mouthful of noodles, “What? I brought forks for you people.” He used one stick to point down at the table, where three battered metal forks were wrapped together in a cloth.

Angeline retrieved a fork and flicked one toward Rector, who picked it up and used it to poke at the contents of his plate.

“Eat it,” Zeke urged him. “It’s good, and it’s hot. Hot food doesn’t come easy in the Vaults. We don’t have vents there—at least, none as good as the ones they got here.”