Everwild (16 page)

The moment the confession hit her, Allie peeled herself out, stunned. It took her a few minutes until she was willing
to try it again. She tried four more times before it became too much for her. The last prisoner was either innocent, or too hard to read, she wasn't sure.

“Yes,” Milos told her. “Guilt is easy, innocence is hard.”

“But what's the point of it?” Allie asked. “They're already in prison—what's the point in us knowing they're guilty?”

Milos grinned. “What if the ones we
justice
are not in prison?”

Allie thought about it, and found the idea both compelling and disturbing. “Do you mean diving into random people, and searching their thoughts for crimes?”

“Not necessarily,” said Milos. “We could search the minds of people awaiting trial, or perhaps people who are suspected of getting away with the perfect crime. We can find the truth within them, and then make them confess. Have you ever seen a criminal confess to something they might have otherwise gotten away with? Well, maybe they were
justiced
by a skinjacker.”

“But isn't that … invasion of privacy?”

Milos shrugged. “No more so than a search warrant, and that is perfectly legal. We just search a little deeper.”

Although Allie felt conflicted, she had to admit that it
could
be ethical, if there were strict guidelines—such as only searching those who are already under official suspicion. But then, who would decide what the guidelines should be? Every skinjacker would make up their own rules, and not all of them would be as honorable as her.

“This is a good skill to know,” Milos explained. “You see, there are those here in Everlost who will pay well to have their killers brought to justice.”

“I don't want to be paid.”

“Fair enough,” Milos said. “Sometimes a good deed is payment enough.”

Which led them to the second lesson of the day.
Terminizing.
For this he took her to a hospital in the outskirts of Nashville. Once there, they found several terminally ill patients. Milos amazed Allie by skinjacking one of them— not to take over the patient's body, but simply to make himself known. By the time Milos peeled away, the man had a look on his face like he had been visited by an angel.

“We tell them the truth,” Milos explained. “We tell them that there is something more. That after their last heartbeat, the tunnel and the light will come.”

“But we don't know what's in the light.”

“It does not matter,” said Milos. “Most people just want to know that there is something, whatever that something is.”

As they went searching for another patient, Allie dared to ask, “So, what's in it for you?”

Milos looked down. “I see,” he said sadly. “Everything Milos does must serve Milos.”

Allie immediately felt bad she had said anything.

Milos held his pout for a moment more, then it became a mischievous grin. “I ask them to put in a good word for me when they reach the light.”

Allie slapped his arm, and he laughed. “Shut up! You do not!” But she was never quite sure if he was joking or serious.

Following Milos's lead, Allie entered a patient, and revealed her presence slowly, so as not to frighten the woman.
Then she spoke of the tunnel and the light. Milos was right— that was all it took to give the woman an overwhelming feeling of peace and comfort.
Thank you!
the woman said in her thoughts.
Oh, thank you!
She didn't know who Allie was, but that didn't matter. It was the message that mattered, not the messenger, and once Allie had peeled away, the feeling of utter peace lingered with her. This was definitely more rewarding than justicing. It was the kind of bedside comfort the living simply could not give.
Perhaps this is the reason we can skinjack,
thought Allie.
To do things like this.

Allie must have communed with a dozen patients before she felt so exhausted by it, and filled with their gratitude, that she had to stop.

It was getting dark as they left the hospital, and as her mind ran through the miraculous things they did today, she couldn't help but reel from the sheer awe of it. Since the first day she discovered she could skinjack, she had lived in fear of the idea—she had treated it like a nasty little secret, to be used only when absolutely necessary. It kept her from seeing the possibilities!

“Do you realize what we could do?” she told Milos. “Solve the world's greatest crimes, bring peace to the most troubled places on earth. Why, through skinjacking, we could actually change the world!”

Milos found this very amusing. “You wag a finger at me for playing with fleshies, and here you want to change the world!”

“I didn't say I wanted to, just that we
could
.”

Then his gaze changed. He was no longer laughing. Now he looked a bit bemused, instead of amused—as if looking at
Allie was like looking at a wonder. The gaze made her feel awkward and she had to look away.

“Perhaps I am too small-minded,” Milos said. “This has always been my problem—but now, thanks to you, I will change. I will try to think more … globally.”

At the time Allie thought he was just humoring her.

Skinjacking can change the world.

Only much later would her own words come back to haunt her.

There was no question that Nashville slowed them down, what with so many skinjacking opportunities. Mikey was the only one annoyed by how few miles they were covering. “I thought you wanted to find your family,” he reminded Allie.

“I do, but I've waited this long—a couple of days won't make a difference.”

She could have told him then about how she'd be stuck in Everlost for a long, long time, so there was no hurry to do anything—but she knew Mikey would ask her a million questions she had no answers to. Like what it meant to be consigned to Everlost for her “natural life,” as if the universe knew when she would have died if she hadn't been in the accident. How can a date be assigned to something that will never happen?

An exploration of Nashville had turned up a sizeable vapor of Afterlights in an old burned-out factory that had crossed over. They were friendly but guarded, not trusting of outsiders—least of all a foreigner like Milos. The Nashville Afterlights made room for them in their sizeable
deadspot though, and were happy to listen to all their stories of faraway places—and to them, every place was far away.

“So you've all been into the Everwild?” their leader asked—a kid who had blue hair for no reason anyone could fathom.

“Where I come from,
this
is the Everwild,” Allie told him, and that made the other kids laugh, thinking she was making a joke.

One kid didn't laugh, though. A bone-thin, sad-eyed kid who was so hunched the other kids just called him Igor. “It's all wild,” he said. “No one knows anything about anywhere—'cept of course for the Sky Witch.”

Both Allie and Mikey shifted uncomfortably at Mary's mention, but neither of them said anything. Neither of them felt like sharing tales of Mary Hightower.

“But the real wild places are to the west,” said Igor, and the other kids murmured their agreement. Then he whispered, “
Have you felt the wind?”

“What wind?” asked Mikey.

“We don't feel wind in Everlost,” Allie pointed out.

“You'll feel
this
wind,” said Igor. “If you're goin' to Memphis you'll feel it sure enough.”

Allie looked to Milos, but he just shrugged. “This is as far west as I've ever been.”

“Great,” grumbled Mikey. “Another problem.”

“It's not a problem,” said Allie. “It's just wind.”

But the looks on the Nashville kids' faces said otherwise.

* * *

While Moose and Squirrel bargained with the Nashville Afterlights, hoping to provide various skinjacking services, Milos invited Allie for another lesson.

“Enough talk of winds and worries,” Milos said. “Tonight we have fun.”

“If it's an evening of fun, then we should invite Mikey,” she said, more of a reprimand than a suggestion—a little jab to remind him that their lessons were serious business.

Milos shrugged. “Of course, of course,” he said, sounding a little like Squirrel, “but even if Mikey could skinjack, somehow I do not think he is one to appreciate country music.”

Allie studied him, trying to read the mildly mischievous look on Milos's face. “What does country music have to do with skinjacking?”

But Milos only smiled.

Allie went to look for Mikey among the Nashville Afterlights, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Lasht time I shaw him,” Moose said, “he wuz leaving the factory by himshelf.”

Lately Mikey had been spending more and more time alone. It troubled Allie, but only slightly. Mikey was very good at taking care of himself.

That night, Milos took Allie to Nashville's Grand Ole Opry, where Travis Dix was in concert. There was some country music that Allie loved, and some that she hated—but whether you were a fan of country music or not, everybody loved Travis Dix. Allie's only problem with it was that this felt like a date, and that made her uncomfortable.

Alive, she had always been too busy with sports, student government, and the yearbook to date. Besides, the boys she liked were always out of reach, and the ones who did give her attention always lacked a certain something—such as common sense, or deodorant.

She always assumed there would come a time for her to make boys a priority … but death had put a damper on that. Well, she hadn't dated in life, and she wasn't about to start now. She had Mikey as an afterlife companion, and that was enough for her.

“So why are we here?” Allie asked Milos as they passed through the front entrance and into the crowded lobby of the ornate theater. “I hope it's not just to see a concert.”

“This way,” said Milos. “Come.”

She followed him from the lobby into the theater, where, in a few minutes, the show would be starting. Then he led her right up onto the stage. Even though Allie knew that no one could see her, she still felt uncomfortable on a stage, facing an audience of thousands.

“You have practiced soul-surfing, and have gotten better at it,” said Milos, “but now, with so many people packed into one place, you can really use it!”

Milos turned to face the audience, and looked up to the highest seats way up in the back of the balcony. The nosebleed seats, Allie always called them.

“Tell me,” said Milos, “how fast can you surf from here to the balcony and back?”

Allie smiled. “Faster than you!” Although she knew it probably wasn't true.

“Then you can try to beat me.” Milos squinted up at
the balcony, then pointed. “Do you see the usher at very back?”

Allie looked up to the center aisle between the highest seats. The soft focus and muted colors of the living world made it difficult to see, but she did pick out an usher guiding people to their seats up there. “So he's our target?”

“Yes. The first one to surf all the way up there, tap the usher on the shoulder, and come back to the stage, wins.”

“And no cheating!” said Allie.

“How could I cheat?”

“You're not allowed to jump from the orchestra up to the mezzanine—we both have to go out the back of the theater, into the lobby, and surf our way up the stairs.”

“Fair enough,” said Milos. “Are you ready?”

“Are you?”

“Ready, set, GO!”

Allie took off, making a calculated move, by jumping into a security guard that was a little closer to Milos than to her, figuring that Milos would start with him. Sure enough, Allie felt Milos trying to push his way into the guard, but couldn't because Allie was already there. It put Allie in an early lead.

She went from the guard, to a tall old man, to a short woman with big hair, to a baby, to some guy who Allie could sense didn't want to be there.

She was already out in the lobby, and lingered in the aggravated man just long enough to locate the stairs, before bounding out to the next person. Up the staircase to the mezzanine, person to person, body to body until she reached the balcony. She had no idea where Milos was, and she didn't
even know who her host was now—all she could sense was that this person needed to use the bathroom.

She had to get her bearings before she hopped to the next person—she had to spot the usher. Now that she was back in the theater, she was right in front of the steep aisle leading all the way up to the seats that nearly touched the roof. The usher was halfway up that aisle, leading a man to his seat. Allie launched herself out of the full-bladdered fleshie, and surfed through two more people, and right to the man the usher was escorting—

—But she couldn't get in because Milos was already there! He had used her own trick against her! Allie bounced off the man like rubber, and by the time she had skinjacked the next closest person, Milos's fleshie had already tapped the usher on the shoulder.

“Beat you!”

“Not yet!” said Allie, tapping the usher as well.

They left the two bewildered fans and the usher behind. In a moment Allie had surfed herself down the aisle, and out the back doors of the theater again, finding herself on the stairs. Going down, she discovered, was a little trickier than coming up, because everyone was hurrying up the stairs to get to their seats. It was like running down an “up” escalator. She surfed through dozens of people, fighting the current, not lingering for more than an instant in any one person until she was back on the ground floor, and in the theater's main aisle again.