Текст книги "Everwild"

Автор книги: Neal Shusterman

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Allie was about to launch into a hundred defenses of her relationship with Mikey, but Milos cut her off by saying, "Then we shall walk."

Squirrel looked at him slack-jawed. "But-But–"

"Did he jusht say we're walking?" asked Moose.

"Is there a hurry? No!" said Milos. "And it is a beautiful time of year. I see no problem in walking." "Yeah, yeah, but what about Jackin' Jill?" said Squirrel. "We still gotta find her and teach her a lesson."

"We will find her when we find her," Milos said. "A few days won't make a difference." Allie couldn't help but notice how he bristled at the mention of her name. Milos then looked to the highway. "We shall travel on the interstate–it will take us straight there."

Squirrel shuffled his feet, and Moose just looked down, slowly shaking his head.

"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.

CHAPTER 10

Skinjacking for Fun and Profit

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!"

When she turned her eyes back to Milos they were all sympathetic again, and Mikey just couldn't stand it. He stood up and strode away.

"Where are you going?" Allie asked.

"I don't know," he said. "Maybe I'll catch up with Jackin' Jill."

Allie started after Mikey, but snared herself on a barbed wire fence that, for reasons unknown, had crossed into Everlost. A sharp steel barb tore a deep gash on her arm that felt momentarily weird before it zipped itself closed. By the time she looked up, Mikey was gone.

"Let him go," said Milos, coming up behind her. "Clearly he has ... what is that expression?'Skeletons in his closet.' "

"Yeah, and bats in his belfry," Allie said.

Milos looked at her, puzzled. "This expression I do not know."

"Never mind," she said, not wanting to get into it. Mikey's temper tantrums had gotten fewer and further between, but they never went away completely. His moodiness always surfaced in the company of other Afterlights. Social skills were never his strong point. As for "skeletons in his closet," that implied he had secrets Allie didn't know– but she knew all his secrets, didn't she?

"Whatever bee he's got in his bonnet, he'll get over it," Allie said. Milos smiled. "Bats in belfries, bees in bonnets–this is why I love English."

Allie turned to return to their campsite on the highway, but then Milos said something that stopped her.

"You know ... I could teach you things."

She slowly turned back to him. "What do you mean?"

Milos sauntered closer to her, hands in his pockets. "If you came skinjacking with us, there are many things I could teach you. Skinjacking is more than just climbing inside fleshies and putting them to sleep."

"If you're talking about your little business of delivering messages to the living, no thank you. I don't want to be a part of ... of DeadEx."

"This is not what I mean," said Milos, his voice brimming with hushed excitement. "I am talking about the joy of it!"

Allie immediately thought to the time she had gone out into the rain. She understood the joy he was talking about, but it was always overshadowed by the guilt she felt stealing moments that weren't hers.

"Have you never dreamed of being someone else?" Milos asked. "Someone rich, or beautiful, or powerful. Have you never longed, if only for a few minutes, to live someone else's life?"

"Of course I have... ."

"And yet you do not do it? Why is this?"

"Because it's wrong!"

"Who told you it was wrong? Was it Mikey?"

"No!" said Allie. "I don't need him to tell me the difference between right and wrong."

Milos took a long look at Allie. "Skinjackers are not like other Afterlights, Allie, and we all must learn to accept this. Because not only are we given this power, but also a powerful hunger to use it."

"A hunger that we should resist!" insisted Allie.

"Resist our nature? Do you not think that would be wrong?"

Allie found that Milos was standing just a bit too close, and she took a step back. He was making far too much sense, and it troubled her. She had wanted another skinjacker to talk to–someone who could understand the things she felt. She thought it would be a case of misery-loves-company. She never expected to find a skinjacker who reveled in possessing the living, turning it into an art form. A way of life. What if he was right, and resisting that powerful pull to flesh was the wrong thing for her to do?

"Flesh and bone deserves to be appreciated," Milos said. "Those who have it take it for granted, but not us! We appreciate every breath, every breeze, every beat of the heart. And so, by borrowing their flesh, we are the ones who give their bodies the dignity they have lost."

All the reservations that held Allie back–that slapped her down every time she skinjacked–were beginning to feel insignificant, and she was torn. If skinjacking truly was her nature, shouldn't she embrace it?

"Please," said Milos, "let me teach you. Let me show you some of the things I know. I promise you will not be disappointed!"

Allie shook her head, then nodded, but then shook her head again. Finally she settled on telling him, "I'll think about it." Then she turned and hurried back to the others, for once glad to be in the company of Moose and Squirrel.

It was hard for Afterlights to hide at night. Their afterglow always gave them away. Mikey just wanted some time alone, to brood, maybe sit on a rock, look at the moon, and let all those unpleasant feelings work themselves out, if indeed they ever would. The problem was, the only rock large enough to sit on was living-world, and Mikey had to continually pull himself up out from it. It was annoying.

Then, the last person he wanted to see emerged through a tree trunk, easily finding him by his glow. Mikey wasn't sure whether to stare Milos down or just ignore him. So he did one, then the other.

"Allie is worried about you," Milos said.

"I really don't care," grumbled Mikey.

"This does not surprise me."

"Why is it your business anyway?" Mikey snapped. When Milos had no response to that, Mikey said, "Tell her I'm fine, and I'll come back when I feel like it."

Milos lifted his feet to keep himself from sinking, but didn't leave. He just regarded Mikey with a detached kind of curiosity.

"Why do you hold her back?" Milos asked.

"Excuse me?"

Milos took a step closer. "She could go so much further. She could be so much more. But you–you keep her from using her skills. You are very much an anchor around her neck. This is very selfish." Mikey came off of his rock to face him. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

But Milos remained calm, and sure of himself. "Is it my words that anger you," he asked, "or is it because you know I speak the truth?"

If there was any hope that Mikey might warm to Milos– maybe even become a reluctant friend, that hope was now gone. "Allie and I ... Allie and I care for each other. We've been through a lot together–you have no idea!"

"You are right," said Milos, "but I do know that she bears a certain sadness. You must see it."

Yes, of course Mikey had seen it, but he wasn't about to admit it to this skinjacking outsider. "Like I said, you don't know anything."

"You claim to care for her, but I do not see this. If you cared for her, perhaps you would see that your destinies now lie on different paths."

"Do not anger me!" Mikey roared. "I am not to be trifled with!"And he heard in his own voice a roughness and a rawness he hadn't heard in a long time. Overtones of the McGill.

Milos put his hands up in surrender, as if he were backing down–but Mikey knew this was just another calculated move. "Then pardon me." Milos said, "I meant no disrespect."

"You say that a lot," Mikey pointed out, looking him right in those weirdly distracting speckled eyes. "But I think disrespect is exactly what you mean."

"I am only thinking of what is best for Allie," said Milos with a gaze that penetrated uncomfortably deep. "Are you?"

Then he left Mikey alone with his rock, his thoughts, and the moon. * * *

The next day, they came to the town of Lebanon, Tennessee, and again Milos asked Allie if she wanted to come skinjacking with him. She broached the topic as gently as she could with Mikey.

"There are things he can teach me about skinjacking," Allie told him. "Things that could probably help us."

"Why are you telling me?" Mikey snapped. "If you want to go, then go. Why should I care?"

"I'd feel much better about it if you weren't acting so childish."

"Maybe I don't want you to feel better about it."

Allie clenched her fists and growled in frustration. "I swear, Mikey, sometimes ..."

"Sometimes what? Sometimes you wonder why you put up with me?"

Allie took a moment to calm herself down. "I know why I put up with you. What I don't understand is why you don't trust me."

Mikey looked down and aimlessly kicked the ground. The living world rippled like waves in a pond. "I trust you," he said, his voice a low grumble. "Go learn something useful."

"Thank you." She gave him a gentle peck on the cheek, then went off to join Milos.

Once they were gone, Moose and Squirrel approached him.

"Why don't you come with ush, Mikey?" Moose asked.

"Yeah, yeah," said Squirrel. "Skinjacking can be fun to watch, too. Especially the way we do it."

And although tagging along with the two of them was the last thing he wanted to do, he went along, because it was better than spending the day thinking of Allie in the company of Milos.

Mikey had to admit, watching Moose and Squirrel skinjack that day was entertaining, in a blood-sport sort of way. The were both ingeniously inventive, and decidedly deranged.

First they skinjacked two older teens who were on their way to summer school, but instead used them to get into an R-rated movie. Then, when they got bored with the movie, they skinjacked two policemen and took their squad car for a joyride, leaving the policemen and the car in a ditch, to wonder how they had gotten there.

Each time they skinjacked, they left their fleshies stuck with whatever bad situation they had created, and walked away scott-free. Hit-and-run jackers, he dubbed them.

"We're just having fun," they complained, when Mikey suggested that their activities were depraved. But then, who was he to talk? He had been the McGill–yet even though he had perpetrated a good many mean-spirited, spiteful things, his depravity had a little more class.

Next, Moose and Squirrel went into a bar, got two middle-aged fleshies exceptionally drunk, then peeled out of them just before they were ready to puke.

"No harm, no foul!" said Squirrel. "Right? Right?"

"Yeah," added Moose, "They were gonna do it anyway."

Mikey concluded that these two were the lowest bottom-feeders he'd ever had the misfortune to know. "Does Milos know you're abusing fleshies?" "Milosh and ush got a 'don't ashk don't tell' polishy," said Moose.

"Yeah, yeah–and anyway, we don't abuse no one–we just play hard, that's all."

Mikey only hoped that when it was finally their turn to go into the light, their pit would be deeper than his.

When Moose and Squirrel skinjacked a couple of nuns, and took them on a shoplifting spree, Mikey decided it was time to call it a day. He crossed through a forest that he hoped would take him back to their makeshift campsite by the highway. The forest had quite a few trees that had crossed into Everlost, and so provided him with spots to rejuvenate, and maybe regain some self-respect. His spirit felt greasy after the way he had spent the day.

There was a house in the woods–a shack, really, but sturdy and cared for. Evidence of ash in the living world suggested it had burned down, but whoever lived there must have loved the place, because it had crossed into Everlost. The sight of it filled Mikey with sorrow. A ghost house with no ghost. What could be sadder? Then he realized why the house bothered him. This shack was him without Allie. Solitary and unvisited. An unknown artifact waiting for eternity to free it from its vigil.

It was at that moment he realized that his spirit was truly human once more. For he no longer remembered how to be alone without being lonely. In her groundbreaking book on skinjacking You Don't Know Jack, Allie the Outcast writes:

"Forget all you've heard about skinjackers; forget the idiotic ramblings of other so-called sources of Everlost information. Skinjackers are just like any other Afterlights. They can be honorable or dishonorable, smart or stupid– it all depends on the individual. There are two things that hold true for all skinjackers, though. The first is a driving, almost instinctive need to skinjack. The second is the overwhelming burden that such a power puts on us. With such a power, the potential exists for incredibly good deeds, and for acts of unthinkable evil. I think it's fortunate for both the living and the dead that most skinjackers are too clueless to do much of either."

CHAPTER 11

Surfing Tennessee

In her days on the Sulphur Queen, Allie had pretended to teach the McGill how to skinjack. Of course her lessons were bogus–skinjacking can't be taught–but it can be perfected, and Milos was a master. He could do things Allie had never even thought to do. Things she never dared to do!

At first, he just showed off. They came across a basketball court where a choose-up game was in full swing. He skinjacked the player with the ball, then passed to another player–but Milos got to the other player before the ball did, skinjacked him, and caught his own pass. Allie watched, laughing in spite of herself, as he bounced himself around the court, becoming one player, then another, then another, passing the ball to himself, stealing the ball from himself, shooting and scoring. Allie got dizzy trying to keep track of where and who he was.

By the time he was done, the players were all a bit dazed and confused, not quite sure what had just occurred.

"Jill and I would play many sports together," Milos told her. "We would jump from player to player–that was always part of the game." The memory brought a smile, but a measure of pain to Milos's expression.

"Did you love her?" Allie dared to ask.

Milos took a few moments before answering. "We came upon a wedding once," he told her. "We skinjacked the bride and groom."

"You didn't!"

"Well, I skinjacked the groom, but Jill's legs were cold."

Allie looped that back through her mind. "Do you mean she got cold feet?"

"Yes, she got cold feet. Instead of the bride, she went to hide in the flower girl. That should have told me something, you think?"

"I'm sorry, Milos." Then a silence fell between them that was decidedly awkward.

They made their way to the heart of the town, and found a street fair in full swing taking up all three blocks of Lebanon, Tennessee's main street.

"For your first lesson, I think I will teach you to surf."

Allie laughed. "Well, as the nearest beach is hundreds of miles away, I sincerely doubt that."

"Not that kind of surfing," he told her. Then in a flash he was gone. Allie thought she saw him leaping into a kid eating ice cream, but the kid just continued on.

"Milos?"

"Over here!" His voice was coming from somewhere far away. She looked down the street, and finally caught sight of him–he wasn't skinjacking now, he was just standing in the middle of the street fair, two whole blocks away, waving at her. How on earth had he done that?

Then he vanished again, and a few seconds later, there he was standing right beside her.

"Boo!" he said, and she jumped in spite of herself.

"Did you just ... teleport?"

"More like tele-phoned," Milos answered. "Wires conduct electrical impulses, yes? Well, the living conduct us."

"I don't understand."

"I call it soul-surfing. It is a very good way to travel, when there are many people nearby." When Allie first learned to skinjack–before she knew what it was called– she had called it body-surfing. But this feat of relaying oneself across a crowd in seconds–this truly deserved to be called surfing. She wondered if it felt as invigorating as riding a wave. Milos looked around at the modest crowd of the little street fair. "Okay, your turn."

"Wh-what?" Allie sputtered. "I can't do that! I wouldn't know where to start."

"Start with her." Milos pointed to a woman sitting on a bench, reading a newspaper.

"Make as if you mean to skinjack her, but don't take full control. Instead, you must use her to slingshot to the next person, then the next, then the next. Once you get a rhythm, you can work your way to the end of any crowd in seconds."

He climbed into a passing pedestrian, vanished, then a few seconds later appeared across the street. "Try it!" he called. "From there to here. Short hop."

Allie leaped into the woman on the bench, but lingered too long, and had to peel herself out, which never happened quickly–it was like peeling off a glove. Since Allie didn't immediately put her to sleep, the woman knew something funny was going on. She stood up, looked around, and walked away, unnerved.