Everwild (13 page)

“If you have a problem with this, then leave,” Milos said to them sternly. He looked around, then pointed at a car just arriving in the Burger King lot. “There—a man and a woman in a Miata. Be my guest.” He gave them an elaborate but annoyed gesture. Moose and Squirrel didn't move.

“No?” said Milos. “Then you will both kindly close your mouths, and accompany our friends to Memphis.” He turned his back on them and strode off toward the interstate.

Moose looked at Squirrel, and Squirrel hit him on the helmet. “What are you looking at, huh, huh?” He followed Milos, and Moose lumbered off behind him, all shoulder pads and shame.

Allie turned to Mikey. “Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there and sink?”

“Of course I'm coming.” Mikey pulled his feet out of the ground, and the two of them headed off after the others.

“You should thank Milos,” Allie said. “He just stood up for you.”

But Mikey clearly wasn't in a thanking mood.

Mikey McGill had been in Everlost for a very long time, and had experienced a great many things. He had captained a
ship, he had sunk to the center of the earth, and climbed back again, he had been a boy, a monster, and a boy once again. He had amassed a fortune of crossed objects, and had lost that fortune as well. He had endured. Yet through all of it, no experience was as confusing and unreasonable as the experience of love. He had denied for the longest time that he loved Allie. He had told himself their relationship was of no great consequence—that he was merely grateful to her for having saved him from being a monster. He had told himself that their companionship was merely a useful arrangement, while he considered what to do next.

All of these were lies.

The fact was, he loved Allie so intensely it frightened him. There were times when he looked at her that his own afterglow mellowed from pale blue to almost lavender. He realized that love must have its own spectral shade, and wondered if Allie ever noticed it.

His own reaction to Milos caught Mikey off guard. When he was the McGill no one dared challenge Mikey's authority. He ruled supreme. Although things were different since teaming up with Allie, in all this time, no one had penetrated the little circle he and Allie had made. The two of them were always on the move—other Afterlights they met passed in and out of view like the scenery.

Now, however, their circle had become an unpleasant fellowship of five. It wasn't Moose and Squirrel that troubled Mikey. Milos was the threat. Milos, and his easy smile, and his exotic accent, and the wispy hint of facial hair that might have been a beard had he lived a year longer. Allie called
him charming—and although Mikey knew she had said it just to tease him, it did more than that. It goaded him. It taunted him. Mikey had no idea whether or not Milos was a good spirit, or bad, all he knew was that he hated Milos for simply existing.

For two days as they walked along Interstate 81, and then Interstate 40, nobody skinjacked. This was by Milos's decree—out of respect for Mikey, so he said. By twilight of the second day, Moose and Squirrel were itching for it. Mikey could tell that Allie was too. As they rested on a set of deadspots, beneath what must have been a particularly lethal overpass, Mikey could see Allie's restlessness.

“You weren't like this before,” Mikey said to Allie as they sat on a spot a dozen yards away from the others. “You never
needed
to skinjack.”

Allie didn't answer right away, but she didn't shrug it off either.

“I've been skinjacking more lately,” she finally said, “and the more you skinjack, the more you need to. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't.”

“Do you want to be like them?” he asked her, pointing to Moose and Squirrel, who were twitchy and irritable, like drug addicts needing a fix.

“I'll never be like them,” Allie said, although she didn't seem too confident. “And anyway, once we get to Memphis, they'll go their way, and we'll go ours.”

“And which way is that?”

Again, Allie didn't have an answer for him. This wasn't like her—Allie tended to have an answer for everything, even if it was wrong.

“Everything's changed now,” Allie said, although she didn't say why.

“I know what'll happen,” Mikey said. “You'll see your family, and you'll take your coin and go. I know you will.”

She sighed. “Trust me, I won't. And anyway, you were the one who brought me to Cape May to find my family, weren't you?”

She was right about that. Mikey shrugged. “So? I was trying to do the right thing. The
human
thing. But maybe I don't want to do the right thing anymore.” He couldn't look at her as he said it, and he thought she'd be mad at him and launch into a long speech about the virtues of human compassion and thinking of others before yourself.

But instead she smiled and said, “I'll make you a promise, Mikey. I promise that I'll always be here for you … and I promise not to move on … until
you
do.” Then she leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

He hoped she didn't notice the slight lavender blush of his afterglow.

Allie had, in fact, noticed the faint color shift in Mikey's afterglow several times before, and although she was usually quite smart about things, she missed all the cues on this one. She simply assumed it was some sort of remnant from his life as the McGill—the equivalent of a living-world scar that ached with changes in the weather. After all they'd been through, she cared for Mikey deeply—not as a boyfriend, though, because that was a living-world concept, and in the living world, boyfriends come and go. A hand held today would be slapping a face tomorrow. Mikey wasn't like a
brother to her either. Nick was the one she saw as a brother; connected forever, born into Everlost at the same moment, like ghostly twins.

What was Mikey, then? A soul mate? Perhaps. She couldn't deny there was a sense of comfort in their relationship. They were perfect companions—a good fit for each other. Just being with him gave her a feeling of peace and belonging, but it lacked … excitement.

Sure, from time to time, when the moment called for it, she would kiss him, but an Everlost kiss was not the same as a living kiss. There was no heat to it, no beating heart, no adrenaline rush. There can be no way to find oneself breathless when one doesn't really need to breathe. In the end, companions are all two Afterlights can ever be.

And now there was Milos.

Allie could understand why Mikey saw Milos as a threat—and she had to admit she enjoyed teasing Mikey about it—but only because she knew Mikey had nothing to worry about. She had no desire to abandon Mikey for someone else, and certainly not for Milos. So she entered into her friendship with Milos fully believing she had her eyes open and her mind set.

She was very wrong.

The following morning, Milos suggested a skinjacking expedition to a nearby roadside café. “No disrespect is meant to you, my friend,” he said to Mikey apologetically, “but like it or not, we skinjackers do have needs.”

Mikey could see how much Allie perked up at the suggestion. He could also see how much she tried to hide it.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Squirrel. “Needs. Like we need to sit inside a nice, juicy fleshie, and enjoy their nice juicy bacon cheeseburger.”

“Why should I care if you skinjack?” Mikey said. “Do whatever you want.”

Then Milos turned to Allie. “You should join us,” he said. “I can see you are in need.”

“She doesn't
need
anything,” said Mikey.

But Allie said, “I can speak for myself, Mikey.” Then she looked at Milos, and said, “Thank you for the invitation, but I'd prefer not to.”

This, Mikey knew was a lie—he knew she really did
want to go, but instead she stayed with Mikey as the other three left. It was a good feeling to know she chose to say with him, but that was tempered by how bad he felt to know he was making her suffer.

“Tell ush about Mary the Shky Witsch.”

“Yeah, yeah, tell us.”

Milos, Moose, and Squirrel had come back from the diner in good spirits. It was dark now and all five of them rested on a deadspot on the highway shoulder. Like Allie, these three other skinjackers enjoyed the act of sleeping— a totally unnecessary thing for an Afterlight. Mikey much preferred nonstop wakefulness—but he had been willing to adhere to a living sleep cycle because that's what Allie preferred. Now he realized it must be a common desire among skinjackers. It was just one more thing making Mikey feel like the odd man out.

“Iz it true the Shky Witsch iz beautiful?”

“Is it true she rides in a giant balloon? Huh, huh?”

Apparently Moose and Squirrel wanted bedtime stories as they sat there in a small circle. There was no campfire, only the gentle light of their afterglows.

“Do we really need to talk about this?” said Mikey.

“Of course not,” said Milos. “If you would rather not.” But then he added, “I am curious, though. I have never met anyone who knows the Sky Witch or the Chocolate Ogre— and you know both!”

Well, Allie was the one who dropped their names, Mikey decided to let her field the questions.

“So, so you're friends with them?” asked Squirrel.

“The Chocolate Ogre—
Nick
, I mean—is my friend,” Allie said.

Moose shook his helmeted head. “Thatsh a bad name for an ogre.”

“Nick's NOT an ogre. Or at least I don't think he is—I haven't seen him for a long time,” Allie said. “We died in the same car accident.”

Both Moose and Squirrel looked over at Milos when she said that. Mikey wondered why, and wondered if Allie noticed.

“Sho what about the Shky Witch?” asked Moose.

“Her name is Mary Hightower,” Allie said.

“I know, I know,” said Squirrel excitedly. “I seen her books!”

“Her real name is Megan,” said Mikey, feeling further and further out of the loop. “Mary's just her middle name.” But the others ignored him.

“Don't believe everything you read in those books,” Allie said. “She lies and makes stuff up when it suits her.”

“She does not have nice things to say about skinjackers,” Milos said. “Still, I would like to meet her one day. She seems very … intriguing.”

“That's not the word I would use,” Allie said. “She lures souls in, and traps them in an endless rut, doing the same thing day after day, forever.”

“And,” added Mikey, “she's my sister.”

The others looked at him for a moment, and broke out laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Squirrel scoffed, “and the McGill is my cousin.”

Now Allie burst out laughing, which just made Mikey more annoyed.

“If the McGill was your cousin,” Mikey said, “I can guarantee he'd disown you.”

Allie reached over and secretly squeezed Mikey's hand, leaving him to wonder what the squeeze meant. Was it a show of affection, or was she trying to tell him he was revealing too much information?

“Now it's your turn,” said Allie, changing the subject. “Tell us about Jackin' Jill.”

Clearly this was a sore spot with the other skinjackers, because they all looked away. Finally Milos spoke up.

“She and I were very close,” he said.

“How close?” Mikey asked, realizing Milos had a nice wound worthy of being prodded and poked.

“Close,” was the only answer he gave. “We traveled together, doing jobs for other Afterlights, in exchange for crossed objects.”

“Jobs?” asked Allie. “What kinds of jobs?”

“Jobs that could only be accomplished by skinjackers,” Milos said. “We would tell family members that their loved one in Everlost was all right. We would pass on some information that they otherwise would have taken to the grave. We would finish their unfinished business in the living world.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Squirrel. “There was one kid who was obsessed with finishing his model airplane. So Moose and I skinjacked a couple of neighbor kids and finished it for him.”

“And don't forget the time we got hired by that kid in Philly to beat up the fleshie that got him killed.”

Milos sighed. “Some tasks were more appropriate for Moose and Squirrel than others.”

“Impressive,” said Mikey, in spite of himself. The idea of using skinjacking as a profitable skill tickled Mikey where he lived.

“Yeah, yeah—we were very impressive—and we were rich, too,” said Squirrel.

Milos nodded. “By Everlost standards. We had quite a collection of crossed objects—and these were not just ordinary items. We had gold and diamonds—our customers would trade us their prized possessions in return for what we could offer. We even had a Porsche.”

“No way!” said Allie.

“It's true, it's true,” said Squirrel, “but it was a pain in the neck, 'cause it could only drive on roads that don't exist no more.”

“Jill would be the one to pass on messages to the living. She was best at convincing the living that the message was real.” Milos looked off, caught in the memory. “Then, one day we woke up, and Jill was gone, along with the car and all of our finest things—and she even stole things from the vapor of Afterlights that had taken us in. There were many, and they were all furious.”

“Yeah, yeah—they thought
we
had done it. We had to skinjack our way to safety. Lucky there were some fleshies around.”

“Jackin' Jill took everything worth taking,” said Moose. “Everything! But we're gonna find her. And when we do …“He smashed his fist into his palm.

“I'm sorry,” Allie said to Milos, with a level of compassion that made Mikey sick.

“Serves them right!” Mikey said. “It's what you get for being greedy.”

Allie threw him a disapproving glare. “You of all people shouldn't talk about greed!”