Текст книги "Everfound"

Автор книги: Neal Shusterman

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Also by Neal Shusterman

Novels

Antsy Does Time

Bruiser

The Dark Side of Nowhere

Dissidents

Downsiders

The Eyes of Kid Midas

Full Tilt

The Schwa Was Here

The Shadow Club

The Shadow Club Rising

Speeding Bullet

Unwind

What Daddy Did

The Skinjacker Trilogy

Everlost

Everwild

The Dark Fusion Series

Dreadlocks

Red Rider’s Hood

Duckling Ugly

Story Collections

Darkness Creeping

MindQuakes

MindStorms

Visit the author at storyman.com and on Facebook.

An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, New York 10020

www.SimonandSchuster.com

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2011 by Neal Shusterman

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

The Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau can bring authors to your live event. For more information or to book an event, contact the Simon & Schuster Speakers Bureau at 1-866-248-3049 or visit our website at www.simonspeakers.com.

The text for this book is set in Cochin.

Manufactured in the United States of America

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Shusterman, Neal.

Everfound / Neal Shusterman.—1st ed.

p.  cm.—(Skinjacker trilogy ; bk. 3)

Summary: In the limbo that is Everlost, Mary, Nick, Allie, and others face the decisions that will determine whether that place and the Earth itself will continue to exist, as well as where their own futures lie.

ISBN 978-1-4169-9049-9 (hardcover : alk. paper)

ISBN 978-1-4424-2384-8 (eBook)

[1. Future life—Fiction.  2. Dead—Fiction.]  I. Title.

PZ7.S55987Euf 2011

[Fic]—dc22

2010029018

Acknowledgments

Prologue: Allie the Outcast’s FAQs

PART ONE Confernal Jamnation

CHAPTER 1 Jix

CHAPTER 2 Figureheads

CHAPTER 3 Doomed Worthy

CHAPTER 4 Green Goddess

CHAPTER 5 Allie in Distress

CHAPTER 6 Cat on a Cold Tin Roof

CHAPTER 7 What Allie Saw

PART TWO The Wraith and the Warriors

High Altitude Musical Interlude #1 with Johnnie and Charlie

CHAPTER 8 Half-lost

CHAPTER 9 Assaulting Gravity

CHAPTER 10 Wraith, Wraith, Go Away

CHAPTER 11 Chocolate Reign

CHAPTER 12 Universal Justice

CHAPTER 13 End of the Line

CHAPTER 14 The Neon Nightmares

CHAPTER 15 Memory Makes the Man

CHAPTER 16 Wurlitzer

CHAPTER 17 And Then Along Came Mary . . .

CHAPTER 18 You Put Your Whole Self In . . .

PART THREE The Gates of Grief

High Altitude Musical Interlude #2 with Johnnie and Charlie

CHAPTER 19 Roadkill

CHAPTER 20 Home Body

CHAPTER 21 The Benson Burner

CHAPTER 22 A Balance of Power

CHAPTER 23 Uptown Boy

CHAPTER 24 Face the Music

CHAPTER 25 The Souler Eclipse

CHAPTER 26 The Angels of Life

CHAPTER 27 Last National Life

CHAPTER 28 The Tears of Eternity

PART FOUR Mary Rising

High Altitude Musical Interlude #3 with Johnnie and Charlie

CHAPTER 29 The Great Awakening

CHAPTER 30 Something About a Chicken

CHAPTER 31 The Road to Corpus Christi

CHAPTER 32 The Hand of Judgment

CHAPTER 33 Creature Discomforts

CHAPTER 34 Separate Ways

CHAPTER 35 Dark Cumulus

PART FIVE Stealing Life

Philosophical Interlude with Arnie, the Grand Inquisitor

CHAPTER 36 Holding Patterns

CHAPTER 37 Skinless

CHAPTER 38 Blame It on Mavis

CHAPTER 39 Ghost Town

CHAPTER 40 Pittsburgh Stealer

CHAPTER 41 Punishment and Crime

CHAPTER 42 Sense and Sensibility and Skinjackers

PART SIX Ruin Nation

Historical Interlude with Angry Gods and Insufficient Sunscreen

CHAPTER 43 The City of Souls

CHAPTER 44 Zero Recall

CHAPTER 45 Mikey, the God

PART SEVEN Journada de Muerto

E=MC²

CHAPTER 46 The Sum of All Tears

CHAPTER 47 Thunderbird Persuasion

CHAPTER 48 Suicide King

CHAPTER 49 The War of Souls

CHAPTER 50 Straight Up, with a Twist

CHAPTER 51 Westinghouse Blue

PART EIGHT EverEnding

Paradoxical Interlude with Physicists and Lobstermen

CHAPTER 52 World After Mary

CHAPTER 52 Portraits

To my elementary school librarian,

who took me under her wing,

and turned me into a reader.

Thanks, Mrs. Shapiro,

wherever you are!

Acknowledgments

Everfound, and the entire Skinjacker Trilogy, has been a fantastic journey to write, and there were many people who made thate journey possible. First and foremost, I’d like to thank my editor, David Gale, as well as Justin Chanda, Navah Wolfe, Paul Crichton, and everyone at Simon & Schuster for believing in these books. Thanks to my parents for always being there for me, and to my children, Brendan, Jarrod, Erin—and especially Joelle, who read my early draft of Everfound, and gave me great editorial notes.

Thanks to Chris Goethals for being amazingly supportive, through Everfound’s birth pangs and a constant source of light. My deepest gratitude to my assistant, Wendy Doyle, who worked tirelessly doing everything from transcribing my incoherent ramblings to finding Russian and Swahili translations (even though I ended up never using the Swahili). And while I’m on the subject of translation, thanks to Gabriela Hebin, for correcting my questionable Spanish.

Thanks to Andrea Brown, Trevor Engelson, Nick Osborne, Shep Rosenman, Lee Rosenbaum, and Danny Greenberg, who keep my career from sinking to the center of the earth. Also a heartfelt thank you to Naketha Mattocks, Allison Thomas, Gary Ross, and Jeff Kirschenbaum for having the vision to see these books as films, and the passion to make it happen someday.

I’d like to thank Daniel J. Grossman for his airship website (airships.net), which has amazing information on the Hindenburg.

Thanks to Brody Kelley, Amber Loranger, Alex Easton, and all my other Facebook fans and Twitter followers for spreading the word about these books.

And thanks to that kid who asked, “What happens to a skinjacker who gets unwound?” That’s the way to keep an author on his toes!

Prologue: Allie the Outcast’s FAQs

If you’ve just woken up to find yourself in Everlost, you might be scared and confused. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay. Sort of. They call me Allie the Outcast, and I’ve put together a list of frequently asked questions for new arrivals. It’s a pretty good idea to read them, even if you’ve been in Everlost for a while, because in Everlost it’s so easy to forget. . . .

What is Everlost?

Everlost is a world in between life and death. If you’re stuck here, then it means you didn’t quite make it to the light. Of course, we can still see the living world, all around us, but we can’t be a part of it.

Why can’t I touch anything or talk to people? Why is the world around me so blurry and faded?

You’re dead. Get over it. You’re a spirit, or Afterlight. We’re called Afterlights because we give off a faint glow—which makes it easy to see things in the dark. We’re like our own flashlights. We call newly awoken Afterlights “Greensouls.”

It was winter when I crossed into Everlost, but now it’s fall. Why is that?

All Afterlights sleep for nine months when they cross over. That’s how long it takes to be “born” into Everlost. We call spirits that haven’t yet woken up Interlights.

Why do I sink into the ground if I stand still?

You’re a spirit, and spirits can walk through walls—and the floor is basically just a wall beneath your feel. We sink faster through wood floors than through concrete, dirt, or stone. It’s best to stay out of living-world buildings, or you might find yourself sinking to the center of the Earth.

If I’m a ghost, how come some places are solid for me?

Those are called “deadspots.” Places that no longer exist, but were loved, or important in some fundamental way, cross over into Everlost. Spots where people died cross into Everlost as well, and so do beloved objects.

What’s this weird coin in my pocket?

Don’t lose your coin, and don’t let anyone take it away from you! That coin will get you where you’re going, when you’re truly ready to go.

Uh . . . where was I going?

I wish I knew, but no one in Everlost can see into the light at the end of the tunnel, so no one knows what’s there. Maybe it’s whatever you believe is there . . . or maybe not.

How long will I be in Everlost?

That depends. If you’re ready to go, and you still have your coin, it might not be long. But if you lose your coin, or you choose to stay, you could be here for quite a while.

This weird thing keeps happening. I keep getting stuck inside living people. I can hear their thoughts, and it’s like I can take over their bodies. What’s up with that?

If you can do those things, then you’re a skinjacker. Congratulations! You have one of the most awesome powers in the world, because you can possess anyone you want. But be careful to use your power wisely. I’m a skinjacker, so I know how tempting it is to abuse that power. It’s important to remember not to stay too long in any one body, or you can get stuck there!

Why can I skinjack?

Because you’re not 100 percent dead. Your body is in a coma somewhere.

I can’t skinjack, but I do find myself changing in weird ways. Why?

We are what we remember. If we remember we had big ears, our ears slowly get bigger. If we remember we have freckles, suddenly we’re all freckles everywhere. I had a friend who died with a smudge of chocolate on his face. You don’t want to know what happened to him. . . .

Why do I find myself doing the same things over and over again every day?

You know how ghost sightings always seem to have the ghosts doing the same things every day? Well, we’re the ghosts now. Try to break the pattern if you can, otherwise you can find years have passed without you even noticing. It’s easier to break the pattern if you’re around skinjackers.

I can’t remember my name, and it’s freaking me out!

Unless you’re a skinjacker, you’ll tend to forget things. Maybe even everything about your life. That’s why most Afterlights have nicknames—it’s because they can’t remember their real names. Skinjackers might take nicknames too, but for entirely different reasons.

I’ve been hearing a lot about Mary Hightower, and how she can help me. Should I look for her?

Absolutely not! No matter what anyone says, Mary Hightower is NOT your friend—and if you find one of her books, remember you can only believe half of what you read . . . the hard part is figuring out which half.

I just fell off a cliff, and I didn’t even get hurt. How is that possible?

As far as I know, we can’t feel physical pain in Everlost. Wounds heal instantly, broken bones unbreak—because they’re not really bones at all, just the memory of bones.

I really hate this stupid shirt I’m wearing, but it won’t come off. What’s the deal?

Whatever you died in, you’re stuck wearing it. It’s a part of you now, just as permanent as your skin. You can cover it with something else, if you manage to find some clothes that have crossed, but you can’t take off what you died in. Just be happy you didn’t die wearing that tree costume from your third-grade play, or a Mexican wrestling mask.

Aren’t there any adults in Everlost?

No. There are lots of theories as to why. Some people say that they cross with so much baggage, they all sink to the center of the earth, but I don’t believe that. I think the older you get, the harder it is to break out of the tunnel. For grown-ups, that tunnel to the light is so thick, there’s no way they’re falling out of it. They get where they’re going whether they want to or not.

Did I just see a giant silver blimp in the sky?

It wasn’t a blimp, it was a zeppelin—a rigid airship. More specifically it was the Hindenburg, which blew up in 1937. It’s been here in Everlost ever since.

What’s a vapor?

It’s what you call a group of Afterlights. You know; a pod of whales, a pride of lions, a vapor of Afterlights. Mary made that up. She makes up lots of things.

Actually, I’m pretty cool with all of this. In fact, I feel more content than I ever have before.

Then you’re ready to move on. I wish you a safe journey into the light!

I have so many more questions, can’t you tell me more?

I’m sorry, but there are some things you’re going to have to learn for yourself. Good luck!

Allie the Outcast

PART ONE

Confernal Jamnation

CHAPTER 1

Jix

The boy jacked a jaguar, slipping into its sleek body and sending its simple feline mind to sleep. He owned the beast now. Its flesh was his. Muscular magic in a compact four-legged frame, perfectly designed for running, stalking, and killing.

He had taken on the name “Jix”—one of the many Mayan words for “jaguar”—due to his inclination toward great cats, and he furjacked one every chance he got. He preferred wild jaguars, living in the jungles of Mexico’s Yucatan Peninsula—creatures that hadn’t lost their will to hunt.

Reconnaissance was Jix’s specialty: tracking and spying on Afterlights who His Excellency the King believed to be a threat. Afterlights such as the Eastern Witch—the one they called Mary Hightower.

His Excellency had created a barrier of wind upon the Mississippi River to keep her and other intruders out, but the Eastern Witch was shrewd and relentless. With the help of her own skinjackers, she had destroyed a living-world bridge, causing it to cross into Everlost. Then with a train full of followers and slaves, she rode a powerful locomotive across the river.

At least that was the story.

Others said that she never made the journey herself—that something strange and mysterious happened to her, but no one could agree as to what it was. She flew off into the sky. She melted. She turned to stone. She turned to flesh. Each rumor was more outlandish than the last, and no one knew for sure if any of them were true.

Jix was called in for closer surveillance. Discover their numbers, discover their intent, then report back to the king. If these trespassing Afterlights were truly a threat, they would be dealt with quickly, and would never see the light of day again. It all depended on Jix’s report.

“You should skinjack the pilot of a flying machine,” His Excellency had suggested to Jix, “for speed in this matter would greatly please us.”

Jix, however, had resisted. “But sir, my skill to stalk comes from the jaguar gods. If I make my journey impure, they will be angered, and take the skill away.”

His Excellency had then waved his hand dismissively. “Do as you will—as long as you bring us the results We require.” The king always said “us” and “we,” even when there was no one else but him in the room.

So, on a bright autumn day, Jix set out in the borrowed body of a jaguar, and within that speedy beast, he forged over mountains and rivers, resting when he had to, but never for long. When he came near human villages he heard many languages. Remnants of ancient tongues, Spanish, and finally English. Once he heard English, and saw signs written in that language, he knew he was getting close, yet never once was he spotted, for he had the best of both species now: the keen senses of the jaguar, and the full faculties of a human mind.

The ghost train had crossed the bridge in Memphis, so this was his destination. He was certain to pick up a scent of the supernatural there, and track them down. As he drew nearer, he could feel the thrill of the hunt filling him. The intruders wouldn’t stand a chance.

CHAPTER 2

Figureheads

The one positive thing Allie Johnson could say about being tied to the front of a train was that the view was spectacular. The sunsets were particularly stunning. Even in Everlost, where the colors and textures of the living world appeared faded and muted, dramatic skies lost none of their majesty, and painted the turning November leaves of every tree, living and dead, into shades of fire, before the sunset dissolved into dusk. It made Allie wonder if the clouds, the stars, and the sun existed in both Everlost and the living world equally. Certainly the moon was the same to the living and the dead.

No, not dead, Allie had to remind herself. Caught between life and death . . . although Allie was closer to life than most others in Everlost. It made her valuable, it made her dangerous—and that was why she was tied to the front end of a ghost train.

Right now Allie didn’t have much of a view. All she could see were the front doors of a white clapboard church. It would have been very picturesque if it wasn’t a foot in front of her nose.

The train had been stopped at the church for hours, while Milos, Speedo, and a handful of Mary Hightower’s best and brightest kids pondered what to do.

Mary herself was not available for comment.

Speedo, who was perpetually dripping wet in the ridiculous bathing suit he died in, always offered the most labor-intensive, solutions to obstacles in their path.

“We could backtrack again,” Speedo suggested, “then find another dead track and take it,” for a ghost train could travel only on rails that no longer existed in the living world.

Milos, their leader in Mary’s “absence,” shook his head. “It took very long to find a track that was not a dead end. What chance is there of finding another?” He spoke in slightly stilted English and a faint Russian accent that Allie had once found charming.

“Why don’t you just give up,” suggested Allie, who was in the perfect position to heckle them. “After all, Milos, you should be used to failure by now—and you’re so good at it!”

He glared at her. “Maybe we should crash right through it,” Milos suggested, “using your face as the battering ram.”

Allie shrugged. “Fine with me,” she said, knowing that it was impossible for her to be hurt in Everlost. “I just want to see the look on your face when the train derails and sinks to the center of the earth.”

Milos just grunted, knowing she was right. One would think that ramming a wooden building would just shatter it, and the train would chug on through—but Everlost was not the living world. The church had crossed into Everlost, and things that cross into Everlost are permanent. They can’t be broken, unless it was their purpose to break. They can’t be destroyed unless destruction is what they were designed for. So crashing into the church was likely to derail the train, since the church’s memory of staying put was probably more powerful than a speeding locomotive.

“How did it even get here?” Speedo asked, fuming. As the engineer, he had a singular mission: get the train moving. Anything other than forward momentum was his own failure as far as he was concerned. Typical for a thirteen-year-old. Milos, who had crossed into Everlost at sixteen, was a bit more calm about it. Still, Allie secretly relished the fact that every problem they came across made Milos look less competent in his role. Charisma went only so far.

“It got here,” Milos calmly explained, “because it was built and torn down before the tracks were.”

“So,” said Speedo, impatient as ever, “why is it in our way?”

Milos sighed, and Allie chimed in her response. “Because, genius, if the living world tears two things down in the same place, and both cross into Everlost, we’re stuck with both of them.”

“We didn’t ask you!” snapped Speedo.

“But she is right,” Milos admitted. “Mary called it ‘jamnation.’”

“Right. And then there’s ‘Marification,’” Allie added. “That’s Mary Hightower making up words so she’ll sound smarter than she really is.”

Speedo glared up at her. “You shut up about Miss Mary, or your new place will be inside the boiler.”

“Oh, dry up,” she said, which irked Speedo even more, because, as everyone knew, he couldn’t. Allie hated the fact that Mary, the self-proclaimed savior of lost children, had been elevated into goddess status by her mere absence. As for jamnation, Allie had come across plenty of examples of it in her travels. The strangest had been a school from the 1950s built on the same spot where a Revolutionary War fort once stood. When the school burned down, and crossed into Everlost, the result was a bizarre juxtaposition of brick and stone, classrooms, and garrisons. In Everlost the two buildings both still existed in the same space, and were melded together in bizarre ways.

The evidence pointed to the same sort of thing here: that the foundation of the church and the train tracks had merged, leaving the train at a permanent dead end.

Allie, however, knew something Milos and Speedo didn’t, and if she played it right, she could finally make a bargain for her freedom.

“I know a way past the church,” Allie told them.

Speedo thought she was just taunting them again, but Milos knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t say it unless she meant it. He climbed up on the cowcatcher, wedging himself between the train and the church so he could get close to Allie. Close enough to grab her—or slap her—but Allie knew he wouldn’t. In spite of everything, Milos was a gentleman. Sort of.

“What are your thoughts?” he asked her.

“Why should I tell you?”

“Cooperation,” Milos told her, “may help your situation.”

It was exactly what Allie hoped he would say.

“She’s just wasting our time,” grumbled Speedo, but Milos ignored him, and leaned close to her so that Speedo couldn’t hear. “I cannot offer you freedom,” he whispered. “You are too much of a threat.”

“But I don’t need to be tied to the engine.”

“It is for your own protection,” Milos said, as he had told her before. “Mary’s children need a scapegoat. They need to see you punished, and since we feel no pain in Everlost, strapping you to the front of the train looks far more punishing than it really is. In fact,” Milos added, “I envy you. Your journey west is far more invigorating than mine.”

“There are things worse than pain,” Allie told him, thinking of the humiliation she had to endure by being a captive on display.

“How about this?” Milos said. “If what you have to say helps us, I will imprison you in a more comfortable manner.”

“Untie me first,” Allie said, “and then I’ll tell you.”

Milos smiled. “Not a chance.”

Allie smiled right back. “Well, it was worth a try.” She knew that Milos was vain and self-serving—and that his conscience only went as far as it met his needs—but he did have a moral code, if you could call it that. He was a man of his word. Odd that Allie felt she could trust him after all the terrible things she had seen him do.

“I see lots of things from the front of this train,” Allie said. “Things that the rest of you don’t see.” She paused, stretching it out, making them wait for it. Then she said, “I saw something when the train entered this valley—about a mile back.”

“What did you see?” asked Milos.

“If you’re not going to untie me,” Allie told him, “you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself.”

“Very well,” said Milos. “We are in no hurry to leave anyway. We’ll figure out our own way around it.” Then he looked at the blank white face of the church before them. “In the meantime, enjoy the view.”

Milos stormed away from Allie, refusing to be manipulated by her. She was the prisoner, not him—although more and more he felt like his own hands were tied. Around him dozens of Mary’s children had already come out of the train. Some played hide-and-seek, or tag—always moving fast enough to keep from sinking into the living world. There were girls on the roofs of the train cars playing jump rope, and kids beneath the wheels, playing cards—as if they knew they would be stuck here for days, maybe even weeks. In fact, they had come to expect it.

Of course, they could always leave the train and continue on foot, but Milos decided long ago that it would not be wise. The train was a fortress for them. It could protect them against whatever they came across—and although they had not seen a single Afterlight since crossing the Mississippi, it didn’t mean they weren’t there.

In the weeks since commandeering the train, Mary’s Afterlights had all settled into their own comfort zones, and the rail car population divided along predictable lines—or at least predictable by Everlost standards. There was an all-girls car, and an all-boys car, for those who bonded strictly along gender lines. There were a few “insomnoid” cars for souls who chose to give up sleep entirely, since slumber was optional for Afterlights. There was a car for sports-minded Afterlights who ran from the train each time it stopped, to play one ball game or another, and a car for those kids whose repetitive daily routines involved quiet, indoor activities—and of course the “sleeping” car, and the “prison” car—both of which served their own unique purposes.

To keep Mary’s children happy and subdued, Milos made sure that the train would stop twice a day for several hours of playtime, and each day the games would eerily mimic the day before, down to the scores, the fights, and the things the kids shouted to one another. Each kid fell into his or her own personal pattern that was the same day after day—what Mary had called “perfectition”: the perfect repetition of a child’s perfect day. Milos figured the deeper the trenches of their personal ruts, the less Mary’s children would bother him.

Then there were times like this, where the train came to one dead end or another, and was stuck for days until they figured out a proper course of action.

Milos looked back to the church, and wondered what Mary would do . . . but he wouldn’t be getting advice from her anytime soon.

As he strode alongside the train, considering the situation, Jackin’ Jill came up to him. As always, her blond hair was wild and full of nettles, as if she had been attacked by a tumbleweed. Was it Milos’s imagination or were the nettles in her hair multiplying?

“If you’ve gotten us stuck again, then we should go skinjacking,” she said. As a skinjacker, she, like Milos, was much closer to life, and did not settle as easily into daily routines. But Milos knew Jill didn’t just want to go skinjacking. When she wanted to possess the living, she had a darker purpose in mind.

“Call it what it is,” said Milos. “You don’t want to go skinjacking. You want to go reaping, don’t you?”

“My last orders from Mary were very clear,” Jill said. “I won’t put everything on hold just because you’re a wimp.”

Milos turned on her sharply. He would never strike a girl, but Jill often brought him to the very edge of his temper. “What I did for Mary proves I am anything but a coward.”

“So why do you only let us reap once a week?”

“Because there needs to be limits!” Milos shouted.

“Mary’s vision has no limits, does it?” The fact that Jill could stay calm made him even angrier, but he resolved to calm himself down. Losing his temper gave her control, and he was the one in charge here. He had to remember that.

“The difference between you and me,” said Milos, “is that I reap because it is what Mary wants. But you do it because you enjoy it.”

Jill did not deny it. “In a perfect world,” she said, “shouldn’t we all enjoy our jobs?”

Milos agreed to lead the skinjackers on a reaping excursion that night, but under the strictest of rules. “We will take no more than we can carry, and I will choose where and when.”

“Whatever floats your boat,” Jill said, caring only that she would get her chance to do her dirty work.

Moose and Squirrel were also part of the skinjacking team, bringing their number to four. Although Allie was also a skinjacker, Milos knew she would never come reaping, even if he did set her free from the train.

“Can I take two, Milosh?” Moose asked. “Pleashe?” Moose was a linebacker who had made his unfortunate crossing into Everlost during a high school football game. As such, he was doomed to wear a blue and silver football uniform. That uniform included a helmet and an eternal mouth guard stuck between his teeth, so everything he said came out slurred.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Squirrel, “Moose can carry mine back to the train.”

“Thatsh not what I meant!” said Moose.

Squirrel was a twitchy rail of a kid. Milos never knew the manner in which Squirrel had crossed into Everlost, only that his exit from the world of the living had been supremely embarrassing, as evidenced by the way Squirrel’s cheeks and ears would go red at the mention of it. Since Afterlights had no flesh or blood, one had to be severely embarrassed for the distant memory of blood to turn one’s face red.

“As I said, we will take what we can carry,” Milos told him. “Don’t get greedy.”

They set out from the train at dusk. Perhaps it was his imagination, or maybe just his misgivings, but Milos couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that they were being watched.