“I’m not sure I can do this without you, Mary,” he pleaded. “Please, please wake up soon…”
For an instant, he thought he saw a twitch of her cheek. But it was just a trick of the light sifting through the crystalline coffin.
Late that afternoon, Milos gathered all of Mary’s children in a clearing just beside the train, then he climbed up on top of the caboose, and told them his plan. “We will build a bypass around the church,” Milos told them. “But to do it, we’ll need to find loose railroad tracks that have crossed into Everlost.”
Speedo jumped at the opportunity to lead the expedition. “Leave it to me,” he said. “I used to be a finder-I can find anything!” And since it was well known that he was, indeed, Mary’s favorite finder, he was chosen to lead an expedition of twenty-five souls to scour the Oklahoma City trainyards.
The crowd seemed to approve of the idea, but then a lone voice-it could have been anyone-called out from the crowd, “And then what? Where are we even going?”
The question brought absolute silence to the crowd. All eyes were on Milos, and Milos looked out at them, watching them watching him. They bobbed up and down in that odd way an Afterlight crowd did when trying to keep from sinking in living ground.
Milos cleared his throat, although there was nothing there to block his voice, and spoke as commandingly as he could.
“Mary wanted this to be a surprise, but maybe she won’t mind if I tell you.” Then he pointed off to the setting sun. “There is a deadspot in the West,” Milos told them. “A deadspot larger than any you’ve ever seen. It is a beautiful place filled with everything you could ever want or need. A place where you can all be happy forever. This is where Mary wants us to go.”
And the crowd applauded-some actually even cheered. There was one problem, though:
Milos was lying.
Mary’s plan was to head west, and conquer… but “west” was a direction, not a destination, and while these children could blindly trust Mary to lead them, they weren’t so blind when it came to Milos. He was afraid to consider what they might do to him if they knew Milos had no idea where they were going, or what to do when they got there.
CHAPTER 5
Allie in Distress
T here were many things of which Allie was unaware. How could she know what went on behind her when her only view was the world in front of her? She knew that Mary Hightower had been pushed out of Everlost, and into the living world, because Allie had been there, and had helped turn her back into flesh and blood… Yet Allie did not know that Mary’s second life was already over, and that she was just a few months away from awakening in Everlost again.
Allie knew that Nick, the “Chocolate Ogre,” had finally been overcome by his chocolate cancer, and had dissolved into nothing-but she did not know that Mikey McGill, still deeply in love with her, had gathered the shapeless melted mass that had once been Nick, and had given him shape once more.
Allie had no way of knowing that Charlie and Johnnie-O-Nick’s staunchest allies-were now hopelessly adrift in the Hindenburg, and that the massive airship was at the mercy of the Everlost sky.
And Allie didn’t know about reaping.
She knew it was possible, but even if she had known what Mary’s skinjackers were doing, what could she have done to stop them? To be imprisoned, unable to do anything was, for Allie, the worst punishment yet devised. She had been Allie the Outcast, an Afterlight to be reckoned with. Now she was a joke, and it burned her more than the heat of the earth’s core ever could. She immediately flashed to that stupid old silent-movie image of the damsel in distress tied to the railroad tracks, helplessly wailing. If she ever got off this train, she vowed never to be so helpless again. She’d rather sink to the center of the earth than suffer the indignity of needing rescue.
There was a way out of this-there had to be. In theory, she could skinjack her way off the train by touching a living person passing by, slip into that person’s body, and just walk away. However, the train never brought her in contact with the living. Even when they traveled through populated areas, the living never crossed directly into her path, and it wasn’t like she could shout to them and call them over.
Still, she would find a way out of this, and once she escaped the train, she would leave Everlost. She would not go down the tunnel and into the light-that was for those who were truly dead. But skinjackers had other alternatives…
She had learned the secret of skinjackers-the thing that no skinjacker ever spoke of, but every skinjacker eventually discovered. Skinjackers are not dead, but are in deep, deep comas… not quite dead, but not quite alive, either.
But if her body was still alive… maybe-just maybe-she could skinjack herself.
There was one problem, however. If she did it, it meant leaving Mikey behind. The thought of it challenged her resolve. Could she say good-bye to him, after the years they’d spent together? She loved him. It was not a simple love-it was as deeply complicated as true love should be, full of strength and vulnerability, joy and frustration. A powerful connection between them, more tangible than eternity. Could she sacrifice that for a chance at living? She wondered where Mikey was now, and what he would say. Would he talk her out of leaving, or encourage her to go? With Mikey there was no telling. He was a spirit who could be both selfish and gallant at the same time. It was part of what made her love him.
Of course none of her musings mattered as long as she was tied to the grille of a train.
On the day that Speedo left on his expedition to find railroad tracks, Milos and his skinjackers went off as well, for their own dark purposes. Allie assumed it was their usual “skinjacking for fun and profit.”
Then, just a few minutes after they had gone, Allie was visited by the strangest spirit. A boy that seemed part cat. Clearly this was not one of Mary’s children.
“I thought you were bound by a spell,” he said as he approached, “but now I can see it’s nothing but rope that has crossed into Everlost.”
Allie had seen all sorts of body modifications in Everlost-some intentional, some not-but few were as exquisite as this boy’s. “Who are you?” Allie asked. She waited for an answer, but he gave her none.
“They fear you,” he said. “If they didn’t, they wouldn’t treat you this way.” She knew it was true, but it didn’t change her sense of powerlessness.
“Are there many of you?” Allie asked. “Are you going to attack the train?” If there was a whole army of cat-kids, then this could be a good thing. If they saw Milos and the others as enemies, then they could see Allie as a friend, and might free her.
“I am here as a guest of the Eastern Witch,” the cat-boy said, which, again, did not answer her question.
“There is no Eastern Witch,” Allie told him, taking a little bit of pride in the fact. “She won’t be back, no matter what her children think.”
The cat-kid raised an eyebrow. “Then who is it who sleeps in the last car?”
At first she thought she had misheard him. Then she thought he was making some sort of joke. Then she realized he didn’t have a sense of humor. He was dead serious. But if Mary was in the last car, she wasn’t just sleeping, she was hibernating. She was in transition between life, and “No!” Allie didn’t want to believe it. “No! Milos didn’t! He couldn’t have… he wouldn’t dare!” But she knew he would dare. Milos was audacious to an extreme-he would have no compunction about killing Mary, then pulling her out of the tunnel. It explained so many things. It explained why they were still pushing westward, following Mary’s directive, as if she’d be coming back.
Allie had thought that the one consolation of being on the front of a moving train was knowing that they were moving away from Mary.. .. Little had she known that Mary was with them all along.
This was the worst of all possible news-because Allie had seen into Mary’s mind, and knew the monster she was. Allie knew what Mary planned to do.
“You have to help me,” Allie said to the cat-kid. “Mary
can never be allowed to wake up.”
“And why is that?”
“Because she plans to end the living world. She means to kill everyone and everything.”
CHAPTER 6
Cat on a Cold Tin Roof
J ix found Allie’s accusation against Mary worthy of further investigation. He wasn’t sure he believed that the Eastern Witch would dare to do such a thing as end the living world, or if she even could. Regardless, with so many months until Mary Hightower woke up, there were more immediate things to tend to.
Jix found that he had freedom to move through the train as long as Jill was with him. She was assigned to escort him wherever he went.
“I’m not an escort,” Jill grumbled to Milos when he gave her the assignment. “I’ve got better things to do.”
“I don’t see you doing anything,” Jix pointed out.
“Nobody asked you,” Jill said in a threatening growl-a tone that suited her.
Milos had grinned. “I am beginning to like this guy.” Which is exactly why Jix had said it.
Jix made note of everything. He learned how many kids were in the regular train cars-about fifty in each-which made it cramped but not unlivable.
More than once he witnessed kids deserting the train-usually in groups of four or five. Safety in numbers.
“Let them go,” Jill had told him. “If we catch them now, they’ll only run away tomorrow.”
Once a day, Jix would go to the sleeping car, and visit the girl he had killed, making sure she was kept comfortable, and whispering his apology into her ear. In the living world, his younger sister would be much older than him now. He preferred to think of this girl as his sister, perpetually twelve, just as he was perpetually fifteen.
He would join in the various games the children played when the train stopped-everything from jump rope to hopscotch to tag. He got to know many of the kids, and although they were put off at first by his odd appearance, they always warmed to him.
Only the caboose was off-limits to Jix, which just piqued his desire to get in. He wanted to see the face of the sleeping witch. So great was her legend that gazing on her would be like gazing on the face of a queen. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe each time he looked at the brightly decorated tomb-for a tomb is exactly what it was. In Everlost, however, a tomb was only a temporary thing.
After a few days, Jill seemed less and less attentive of Jix’s comings and goings. On Thanksgiving night, the skinjackers went off to feast on turkey in the bodies of fleshies, and Mary’s children, who had lost all track of living-world celebrations, settled into their evening routines. Jix decided this was the perfect moment to pay a visit to the Eastern Witch. He used his catlike stealth to climb up to the roof of the caboose, cold and rough beneath his bare feet. Then he pried open the small skylight, and quietly slipped inside.
The glass coffin in the center of the caboose was impressive, and the girl inside was at peace-as if she knew Everlost was still under her control even during her slumber. She was both unremarkable and extraordinary at the same time; an angelic face that could belong to any girl and yet also unforgettable. He knew that if Afterlights dreamed, Mary Hightower would be at the core of many of them… and perhaps at the core of many nightmares as well.
“Estos ninos te veneran,” he said, slipping into Spanish. “These children worship you-I’m not surprised you rest in such peace.” He wondered which would be better: to be in the service of Mary Hightower, or to present her as a gift to His Excellency? Certainly Jix would be rewarded for it; in fact, the king might even remember his name.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” Jill said.
Jix spun and growled, reflexively crouching to a pounce position.
Jill came out of the shadows-but how could she even be in shadow? Afterlights all have a glow about them-the dark provides no concealment. Even now Jill’s glow filled the dim caboose as brightly as his own. How could he have missed seeing her?
“What are you doing here?” he growled, but it came out more like weak mewling.
“Waiting for you.” She pointed up to the skylight. “I saw you climbing up to the roof.” She produced the combination lock from her pocket. “Milos thinks he’s the only one who knows the combination.”
“So you were stalking me…”
“Maybe you’re just not as stealthy as you think.”
Jix quickly composed himself. Jackin’ Jill was shrewd and crafty. He already knew she was dangerous-he knew that on the night he met her reaping. The thought of how dangerous she must be made him feel the slightest bit electrified.
“You hid in the shadows. How did you do that?” he asked.
“I dimmed my afterglow.”
“How?”
“You’re in no position to ask questions,” she told him. “I should go to Milos right now, and tell him I caught you breaking in on Mary.”
“You’re the one with the lock. I could tell him I caught you.”
“Do you really think he’ll believe that?”
“Yes,” said Jix. “Because he trusts you even less than he trusts me.”
The smug expression left her face, and she took an aggressive step closer. If she attacked him, it would be an interesting contest. Would she scratch or punch or slap? Or maybe she would move in closer than that, and wrestle him. Jix would often volunteer to fight for His Excellency’s amusement, and he knew many impressive wrestling moves. Which moves could he use on Jill, he wondered? Would he choose to pin her, or throw her off? Again, the thought of it sent a wave of excitement running through him.
“Why did you come in here?” she asked.
“I was curious.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” she quickly replied-exactly as he knew she would. It put him in control of the conversation without her even realizing it.
She glanced down to the coffin. “So now you’ve seen her. Is she everything you imagined she’d be?”
Jix shrugged. “She’s just a girl who sleeps, verdad?”
“And yet she’s more powerful asleep than most of us are awake.” Jill looked him over, and he tightened his abs for the event. “I still haven’t figured you out,” she said. “Why are you even here on this train? It can’t be because you want to be one of Mary’s loyal servants. You’re too much of a loner for that.”
“Like you,” Jix pointed out.
“I stay because I find it amusing. I like watching Milos spin his wheels and try to play ‘daddy’ to Mary’s little snot-noses. But you don’t have a reason to be here, and you never say anything about yourself. I find that highly suspect.”
Jix smiled and gave her his best catlike stare. Jill was unfazed. What was it about her that intrigued him? She was not particularly attractive, and yet he enjoyed gazing at her. There was a certain.. . rudeness to her soul that Jix could not define. It was almost like a scent; sharp, but not entirely unpleasant. It made his nose twitch. When he had first met Jill, he had despised her… but there’s a fine line between hate and certain other emotions.
“Are you going reaping tonight?” Jix asked.
“Mmmmmaybe,” she said. It came out like a purr. “If Milos lets me.”
How strange, thought Jix, that she shows Milos such disrespect, yet knows which rules must be obeyed. So very feline.
“You have an urge to hunt and to kill,” Jix said. “As a human, that makes you a criminal. But as a cat, you’d merely be following an instinct.”
She gave him an arrogant glare. “I don’t furjack,” she said. “If you ask me, I think it’s sick.”
“You say that only because you’ve never done it.” He moved closer to her. “Don’t you ever long to be something different? Something.. . other?” He reached out his forearm toward her. “Touch my arm.”
“Why?”
“It’s not just the color and the spots-it’s beginning to feel like fur.”
Cautiously, she reached out and brushed a finger across his velvet forearm the way one might touch a snake.
“It takes a very long time,” he said, “but you can change yourself into what you choose to skinjack.” Then he locked his gaze on hers. “There are no jaguars this far north, but there are mountain lions, I think… If you became a lioness, I could be your male.”
“Gross!” she said, but Jix just smiled.
“Your lips say ‘no,’ but your eyes tell a different story.”
And at that, Jackin’ Jill, who clearly never stepped back from anyone, took a major step backward.
“We’re done here, Simba.”
“For now,” said Jix, the grin never leaving his face.
She turned and headed for the door, but didn’t leave quite yet. “Think of something awful,” she said, with her back to him.
“?Como?” he asked. “What?”
“That’s how you dowse your afterglow. Think of something awful, and your glow goes away, but just for a few seconds.” And then she was gone, locking the door, and forcing him to leave the way he came in.
In her book Tips for Taps, Mary Hightower has this to say about human emotions:
“We in Everlost are bound by many of the same emotions that we had in life. Joy and despair, love and hate, fear and contentment. Only skinjackers, however, who still have access to flesh, are cursed with those unwholesome feelings brought on by biology, which includes all forms of burning desires. They should be pitied, because unlike the rest of us, they are closer to animals.”
CHAPTER 7
What Allie Saw
A fter a week, Speedo’s team of finders returned with a single railroad track.
“One down, about twenty more to go,” Speedo said cheerfully, his oversized grin stretching quite literally from ear to ear.
While Milos was more than happy to stall as long as possible, Mary’s hordes were getting restless, and nothing would quell the growing discontent but moving them closer to their imaginary destination.
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