Kehoe’s ankle grinds its teeth as he slides from the embankment onto the road. It won’t offer him any cover, but that’s fine, they need it more than him. He hauls himself from a limp to a jog.

“Only so many giant rabbits can join a miners’ union before somebody starts making connections!” He glances back at their blue eyes and long ears, flickering tree-to-tree. “Filthy strikebreakers! If you get me the others will know!”

Silence. Kehoe spits behind him: “Aren’t you going to ask me to come quietly?”

“Pinkerton pinkerton,” giggle the Pinkertons, and Kehoe shivers in fear.