Текст книги "Everwild"

Автор книги: Neal Shusterman

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

So they jacked the two roadies, and watched the whole concert from backstage. Then, when it was done, to make their concertgoing experience complete, they jacked a couple of fans in the audience, so they could flow out with the crowd, and enjoy, if only for a few minutes, the charged excitement of the audience around them.

Allie almost gasped as they left the warmth of the theater, and stepped out into the cool night. It was a subtle change, but powerful to an Afterlight, because temperature change meant nothing without flesh to feel it. A gentle breeze blew through the parking lot, and it felt soft and feathery on her arms. She swore she could feel each and every goose bump, and it was wonderful!

"I think you liked this, yes?" said Milos.

She turned, and his fleshie was right next to hers, bringing up a hand, to gently caress Allie's cheek. Allie was caught off guard. "Don't," she said, taking a step away from him.

"Why not?"

"Well, for one, your fleshie's a girl!"

He shrugged. "So what? Yours is a boy."

Allie looked at herself. Her arms were covered with hair. No wonder the breeze felt so feathery.

"This is just too weird," she said, and peeled herself out. The living world shifted into soft focus, and the breeze now passed through her, so easy to ignore.

Milos peeled out of his fleshie. "I never thought to play hide-and-seek before," he told Allie. "I came here to teach you, and it is you who teaches me!"

"So what's tomorrow's lesson?" she asked.

"Ah," said Milos. "Tomorrow's is the best lesson of all!"

As they left to rejoin the others, Milos held his hand out to her as always, and as always Allie didn't take it, but she couldn't deny that she felt more and more tempted.

While Allie spent her days being tutored by Milos, Mikey spent his time practicing his own skills as well, although he practiced alone. Each day he went off to some secret and solitary deadspot, and there he would spend the day focusing on the one thing he could do better than anyone else. Change. It was the one aspect of his existence that he still had control over–or at least he could have control if he practiced enough.

Allie was off with Milos. Fine. He couldn't change that. He couldn't control what they did or said to each other. But he could grow feathers and scales. He could sprout extra arms and legs. He could even grow a rhino horn and moose antlers. And just like skinjacking, changing himself was irresistible–for who can resist their nature?

The transformations were becoming easier and easier to achieve. The hard part was changing back ... but just as Allie was beginning to master the finer points of skinjacking, Mikey was mastering the art of bringing himself back to normal. It was all a matter of wanting to be Mikey McGill more than he wanted to be all those other tweaked and twisted creations. What made it difficult was that, with all the things he could be, he found it harder and harder to want to be Mikey McGill.

On the night that Allie and Milos played games at the Grand Ole Opry, Mikey was caught in the act.

He had found a nice sized deadspot–a street that had been torn down to build a freeway overpass. None of the buildings had crossed into Everlost, but someone must have had fond feelings for the street itself, because it had crossed over, along with all the streetlights, which still cast a pale glow all around him. It was careless of him to be practicing his transformations in such a wide-open, brightly lit space. Considering the transformation he was working, he shouldn't have been caught at all, because he quite literally had eyes in the back of his head, among other places. He had been trying to see how many eyeballs he could sprout. He had gotten up to fifty-three–they were popping up all over his body like large blue-eyed chicken pox, and each of them had a unique perspective on the world around him.

When he heard a gasp behind him, every available eye turned toward it, and he saw Squirrel trying to run away.

Wasting no time, Mikey took off after him, turning his arms and legs into tentacles that he used to fling himself from one lamppost to another, flying right over Squirrel's head, and landing directly in front of him. Mikey gave himself a set of fangs as he snarled, just to addle Squirrel's acorn-size brain even more.

"Please, please don't hurt me," Squirrel whined, which was stupid, because Mikey couldn't hurt him. That was the blasted problem with being an Afterlight. He turned one of his tentacles into a jagged green insect claw, and thrust it forward, wedging Squirrel's neck against a lamppost with a clang.

"You didn't see this," Mikey said, pleased at the slithery, inhuman sound of his own voice. "And if you tell anyone you did, I'll use this claw to snap off your useless little head."

Whether or not he could follow through on the threat didn't matter; it was enough to scare Squirrel into absolute obedience.

"Yes, sir," squeaked Squirrel. "I didn't see nothing! I didn't see nothing!"

Mikey forced his claw and tentacles back into arms and legs, then sucked all his eyeballs back into his body, leaving only the standard two to glare at Squirrel. His voice returned to normal. "Now, we'll go back to the others, pretend this never happened, and everyone will be happy."

Squirrel gave a few fast, brain-rattling nods. "Sure, sure, everyone will be happy," and Squirrel ran off, stumbling over his own feet.

Mikey laughed and laughed. The choice to become terrifying–if only for a moment–ensured Squirrel's silence, so it served its purpose. But Mikey could not deny how good it had felt to be a monster once more.

CHAPTER 13 Bye-bye, Miss American Pie

Allie couldn't say she particularly enjoyed the company of the Nashville Afterlights. Every vapor of Afterlights was different, and this group was so standoffish–even while attempting to be hospitable–that the time spent with them was awkward at best. It was a relief to leave them behind.

"Nobody trusts skinjackers," Milos commented as they hit the road once more. "Mary Hightower's books make it difficult for us."

"Someday," said Allie, "I'll set everyone straight."

"Someday," said Milos, "I would like to set Mary Hightower straight, personally."

Mikey was silent on the matter. Allie found Mikey to be silent about everything. He had always been somewhat inscrutable, but now he seemed so distant that Allie found walking beside him had become almost painful.

"Talk to me, Mikey," she begged him.

"Why?" he asked. "I've got nothing to say."

"Say anything! It'll make the day go faster."

"No, it won't," he said, glancing ahead of them at Milos, Moose, and Squirrel. And that was that. Silence returned–and although Allie was tempted to catch up with the others, where at least there was laughter and conversation, she resisted, and hung back with Mikey, but resented it.

At dusk they rested, and both Mikey and Milos disappeared. Allie asked Moose and Squirrel about it. Moose, who had limited peripheral vision out of his helmet, hadn't seen much of anything, but Squirrel had.

"Milos went off that way," he told her, pointing to a neighborhood off the side of the road. "He said he was looking for something."

"What?"

"Didn't say, didn't say–but whatever it was, he said he'd be back soon."

"Did Mikey go with him?"

At the mention of Mikey, Squirrel got even more squirrelly. "Nope, nope–Mikey don't go places with Milos," Squirrel said. "I saw him go off the other way. Don't know what he's doing either–and I don't want to know."

Squirrel looked to Moose with a gaze of dread that even Moose didn't understand.

"Whatsh up with you?" Moose asked.

"Nuthin'," said Squirrel. "Why should anything be up with me? Huh, huh?"

This should have been a further indication to Allie that something was wrong, but her thinking had been confused by so many things lately, denial was the easier path to take.

When Milos returned later that evening, he was all smiles. "I promised you the best lesson of all tonight," he told Allie. "Are you ready to begin?"

Allie couldn't imagine an evening of skinjacking better than what they had done at the Grand Ole Opry, but she was willing to take a leap of faith. Milos had taught her so much already– not just technique, but acceptance of herself, and what she could do. She was truly learning how to enjoy skinjacking. For better or for worse, it was something she needed to learn.

"Lead the way," she said, and realized she had put out her hand for Milos to take. Milos gave her the biggest smirk she had ever seen him give–and he refused to take her hand. She laughed to mask her own embarrassment that even that little gesture had, for the two of them, become a game–and Milos now had, so to speak, the upper hand.

He took her to a nearby neighborhood–a wealthy western suburb of Nashville, where tract mansions rose from what was once farmland. Everything was winding streets and culde-sacs. Allie lost all sense of direction in the moonlight but Milos seemed to know exactly where he was going.

He stopped at a huge house with a rounded driveway that was full of cars. There was music inside, and the sound of a crowd.

"A party?"

"Yes! And we are about to crash it!"

"Interesting," she said, giving him a dubious look. "So is there a name for tonight's lesson?"

Milos thought about it. "I have no name for what we do tonight. Perhaps after the lesson is over, you can tell me what to call it." They walked right in through the side wall, having no need for the front door, and in an instant, they were in the midst of dozens of teenaged fleshies, doing all those things Allie's parents would have grounded her for when she was alive: drinking, smoking, dancing much too close in clothes that were far too revealing. And, of course, not a single adult was in sight.

"We were all so stupid when we were alive," Allie noted.

"Ah, to be that stupid again." Milos looked around, and pointed to the kitchen. "That way."

The crowd thinned out in the kitchen; there were only about half a dozen kids in there. "There they are!" he said, pointing to a boy, maybe seventeen, talking to a girl about the same age. He wore a shirt that effectively showed off a body in ripped, varsity shape. He was also amazingly easy on the eye.

"Best-looking boy here, yes?"

Allie forced a shrug. "I hadn't noticed."

"And her." He pointed to the girl the boy was talking to. "Miss American Pie."

Allie laughed. The girl was too pretty for her own good. A blond cheerleader type that Allie instantly invented a halfdozen negative fictions about: She must be an airhead, she must be a drunk, she must cheat on tests, she must backstab her friends, and that ridiculous rack can't be real.

"Why don't you skinjack her?"

"What possible point could that serve?"

"Listen to teacher," said Milos.

Allie sighed. "Fine, but I'm not going to like it."

But to her surprise, she was wrong. About everything. She didn't put the girl to sleep. Not at first anyway. First Allie hid behind her consciousness, to get a good sense of her mental landscape. This girl was not any of the things Allie had imagined. She was smart and honest, never held a pom-pom in her life, and the mug of beer on the counter beside her wasn't even hers. Allie found it annoying that this girl didn't fit any of her preconceived notions.

"So, are you going to take the UT-Memphis scholarship?" asked the good-looking boy, "because I think you should. That way you'll be closer to home, right? And–" Suddenly he stopped, and something about him changed. It was very slight–the way he held his shoulders, the angle of his head–and although his eyes were brown, it was as if they were also blue with white speckles at the same time.

Now Allie gently put the girl to sleep, and took full control of her body.

"She looks good on you," Milos said.

"Thanks, I think." Allie looked around. The girl had clear vision, and saw everything in colors a little too vibrant. It figured. "So am I Cinderella at the ball now?"

"That depends. Am I the Prince of Charming?"

"Prince Charming," Allie corrected, then she looked at him sternly. "Do you think I don't know what this is all about?"

He didn't deny it. "Indulge me," he said. "One dance is all I ask."

"Why should I?"

"Out of simple gratitude for all I have taught you."

"No–you lied to me! You said tonight would be a lesson, not a free dance ticket." "It is a lesson," Milos insisted. "Come, look here." He led her to a mirror in a nearby hallway. "Look at yourself," he said. "Before I met you, you would never dare to skinjack someone this beautiful."

The girl in the mirror certainly was stunning. "I never felt I had the right ... ."

"Why? Do you think so little of yourself that you should only skinjack people less attractive than you are? Why not a girl as beautiful as you?"

Allie couldn't look away from the reflection. "I'm not beautiful... ."

"Then I think you don't see yourself clearly. You are on the inside what she is on the outside. And your outside is pretty good too."

Finally she broke away from her reflection and turned to him. "We should give these people back their bodies."

"Yes," agreed Milos, "but first the dance."

He held out his hand to her. She looked at it for the longest time, then she put her hand in his, ending their little cat-and-mouse game. But now a new game had begun.

Milos, in the body of the beautiful young man, led her to the living room, where all the furniture had been pushed aside to create a dance floor. A dozen couples were dancing, and people without partners danced as well to the steady beat. Allie was never much of a dancer, but this girl came furnished with extensive muscle memory when it came to dancing. Allie found herself dancing better than she ever had before, and sweat soon began to bead on her forehead. She had almost forgotten the curious sensation of perspiration!

The song segued into another, and they kept on dancing through two songs, three, and then the pace slowed. The fourth song was a slow dance, and Allie found herself moving right into it. Milos's arms swept around her, drawing her in, the space between them vanished, and she could smell cologne on his neck. She had to remind herself it was neither his cologne, nor his neck.

It was halfway through the song that Allie realized this girl was in love with this boy. And while the girl's mind and soul might have been asleep, her body was not.

Suddenly the room felt like a sauna, and Allie had to get out.

Pulling away from Milos, she hurried, pushing past the minefield of dancing couples, and out the back door, to an expansive pool deck.

It was cool out here, but there was no escape from the party. People were clowning around in and around the pool. People sat on lounge chairs. One couple sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi, making out.

"Get a room," someone griped.

Although Allie looked away, the lip-locked couple stayed in the corner of her eye, and her gaze kept being drawn to them.

She felt hands slip around her waist. Milos's fleshie. She turned to him, and once more the space between them compressed until they were in that close-dance position again. Milos brushed his hand down her arm, raising gooseflesh all over her borrowed body, until his hand reached hers, and he clasped it.

"Look at me, Allie," he said gently, and so she did. "We break no rules," he said. "These two are already dating. They arrived at the party holding hands." He touched her face and although she knew it would be wise to back away, she didn't.

"Some feelings are lost to us in Everlost," Milos said. "Some feelings can only be felt in living bodies. Do you understand?"

She did understand, and she was unprepared for it. In life she had never experienced how overwhelming, how strong those feelings could be. How they could confound the most rational of minds.

"And," said Milos, his voice barely a whisper in her ear, "there are things we cannot do in Everlost ... but we can do them here, in these bodies."

Then he leaned in and kissed her. It was profoundly different from an Everlost kiss. An Everlost kiss was about connection, not passion. An Everlost kiss lacked this rudeness, this rawness of flesh, and the insane breathlessness of two hearts pounding faster and faster.

In that instant, Allie forgot who she was, and who she was in. She forgot this was not her body at all. She let the mind of the girl surface, and it began to swim and blend with her own thoughts, until she didn't know whether she was the girl or the intruder.

And for a moment, just for a moment, it felt right. It felt perfect. How could it not be? Their lips separated, and both of them stole a quick breath.

"We could be for each other ... whatever we need," Milos said.

This time it was Allie moving forward, pressing her lips against his, not wanting this feverish, dizzying sensation to ever end. This body she was in–it shivered with the thrill of it. "Get a room," shouted the same heckler, but the voice sounded part of another universe.

If Milos had, in that moment, lifted her in those strong, borrowed arms, and carried her off to a quiet place, she would have allowed him to do it, letting herself be swallowed by passion.

But the moment passed, her senses returned, and she pushed him away.

"Milos, no!"

He looked at her, out of breath, eyes barely in control. "Why no?"

She had trouble answering him, and so he kissed her again. She knew if she gave herself over to the kiss one more time, all would be lost. She would gladly be consumed by it. This is what we are meant to do, Milos had said. This is what we are meant tobe. It took every ounce of her will to say–

"Lesson over."

She couldn't bear to pull out of his arms, so instead she peeled out of the beautiful girl, and back into Everlost.

Milos peeled away a moment later, once he realized that Allie was gone.

Allie stood there knowing she had done the right thing, but was still unable to turn and leave. They stood there for the most awkward of moments.

"Now you will say you hated that," Milos said, sheepishly.

Allie shook her head. "No. No, I didn't hate it." And that was the problem.

Beside them, the couple who, after all, really were dating, went back to kissing each other, probably thinking their odd supernatural experience was solely the product of love and hormones. Allie watched them, part of her wishing it could still be her–but realizing that the other half of her wished that the boy could be Mikey.

Only now did she realize that the boy Milos had chosen did look just a little bit like Mikey. She wondered if Milos had chosen him for that very reason. What was it he had said? We could be for each other whatever we need. She wondered if the girl looked like Jackin' Jill.

"Next time, maybe?" said Milos with an apologetic grin.

"No," said Allie, and took his hands, no longer in passion but in sympathy. "There won't be a next time, Milos."

She could not hate him for this. He hadn't forced her– he hadn't taken advantage. He was just doing what boys do–and he was very good at it.

"Too bad," said Milos. "I could have walked you down the red carpet at the Oscars. I could have danced with you in the White House."

"Now who's thinking too big?"

Milos sighed. "Will you now walk back alone, or may I escort you?"

"Well, since we're both going in the same direction, it would be silly to walk alone."

They returned to the highway together, yet apart. It was a long and painfully awkward walk.

"I'm sorry, Milos," Allie told him, when they were halfway there.

But Milos shook his head. "Please," he said. "I posed a question, and your answer was no. Never be afraid to tell anyone 'no'," he said. "And that includes me." It didn't make it any easier that he was charming even in defeat. She knew she could have fallen for Milos had Mikey not already been a part of her life, and Milos knew it too. Never before had Allie been put in a position of chosing between two boys. Some girls might like such a game–toying with them, playing one against the other. Allie thought to the times she teased Mikey about Milos, and realized that maybe she had done a little bit of that herself. It made her want to see Mikey all the more.

The one comfort Allie could take from the evening's festivities was that her momentous lapse of reason would go unnoticed and unrecorded. Mikey would never know.

Except that he did.

In fact, he was standing right beside them when they kissed.

CHAPTER 14 Strange Winds

When Allie and Milos returned to the interstate, Moose and Squirrel were there, but Mikey was nowhere to be seen. Now that Milos's advances had hit a brick wall, he was itching to move on, and didn't appreciate waiting for Mikey.

"It is just like him to make the rest of us wait," Milos said.

"How do you know what he's like?" Allie said, defensively. "You barely even know him."

Milos knew better than to argue the point.

Allie looked around–to the fields across the interstate, and behind her, to the neighborhood they had just come from. She tried to catch a glimpse of Mikey's afterglow, but the moon was too bright; everything seemed to be glowing.

"Wherever he's gone, he couldn't have gone far," Allie told the others. But when Mikey wasn't back by midnight, Allie began to worry.

"What if something happened to him?"

Squirrel stayed silent about it, but Moose–probably following Milos's earlier cue–was annoyed. "Let him catch up with ush." Milos, on the other hand, had moved past his irritation, and recognized that Mikey's absence was something out of the ordinary. "There will be a sensible explanation," Milos reasoned, "and when he does come back, we can all be suitably angry at him. But for now we will wait."

Allie kept a vigil all night, her mind filling with all the things that could have happened to him. What if the Nashville Afterlights kidnapped him? What if he got caught in one of Mary's stupid soul traps? Yet she knew she was grasping at straws. Those Nashville Afterlights were timid things–and as for soul traps, there was no evidence that Mary had ever been this far west.

When dawn came, and Mikey still hadn't returned, Allie was beside herself. The others kept their distance–not even Milos knew how to handle this. It was in that early morning light that she took special notice of Squirrel. He had nothing to say about the matter all night long–yet he was even more antsy than usual. He kept bouncing his knee and shifting his weight from leg to leg. He wouldn't meet Allie's gaze, and that clinched it. In an instant she had him tried, convicted, and sentenced.

"It was you!" She stormed up to him and pointed an accusing finger. "You did something to him!"

Squirrel's jaw dropped open and he shook his head. "Not me! Not me! I wouldn't do anything to him!" He looked to Moose, who backed away, hoping this plague of guilt wouldn't spread to him, but he was too late.

"It was both of you!" yelled Allie. "I know it just by looking at you!"

Moose's beady eyes seemed to widen within his helmet, like a cornered opossum. She half expected him to suddenly play dead. "We didn't do anything! Milosh tell her it wazn't ush!" But Milos was not taking sides.

"You're both lying!' Allie screamed at them. "Tell me what you did, or I'll tear you apart with my bare hands!" In that moment, she believed she could do it, and they believed it too.

"We didn't do anything! I swear, I swear!" pleaded Squirrel. "Cross my heart and hope to fry! I'd be afraid to do anything to him, honest!"

And that, coming from Squirrel, just sounded odd. It was just a further indication to Allie that he must be lying.

Finally Milos stepped in. "Afraid of him? Why afraid?"

Squirrel looked to Milos then to Moose, and finally to Allie. "I think ... I think your friend is some kinda monster." And the expression of horror and hatred that Allie gave him made Squirrel back away. "It's true, it's true! He's got all these eyes–and tentacles. He hides 'em real good, but I know he's got 'em."

"You're LYING!" screamed Allie, and she rushed him. "Take it BACK! You're lying, take it BACK!" She began pushing him, shaking him, hitting him.

It was Milos who pulled her away from Squirrel, and she collapsed, sobbing like she never had in life. Milos tried to comfort her, but she just pushed him away. "He's lying," she said over and over, her voice getting weaker each time she said it. "He's lying... ."

"Maybe Squirrel saw something else, and thought it was Mikey," Milos suggested.

"Yeah," said Moose, butting Squirrel in the head with his helmet. "You alwayz shee things that aren't there!"

"But ... but–"

Milos put his hand up and silenced him, then he knelt down to Allie, who still wept. "I think ... we need ... to consider ... "He spoke slowly, measuring each word like the tick of a metronome, "... that maybe ... Mikey took his coin ... and got where he was going."

"He wouldn't do that," said Allie. "No. He wouldn't just leave without saying good-bye."

"Maybe he did not mean to," suggested Milos.

"Yeah, yeah–maybe he took the coin out just to look at it," said Squirrel, "but once that tunnel opens, there's nothing you can do."

Allie still wasn't ready to believe it. "There's got to be another explanation."

Then, after a long silence, Milos said, "Then we will wait."

And so they waited till noon. They waited till sunset. They waited through a second night. Mikey still hadn't returned, and Allie had to face the very real possibility that he never would.

When the sun peeked over the eastern horizon the next morning, Milos finally said, "Come; I said I would get you to Memphis and I will."

Allie shook her head. "I'm not going. I'm staying here."

"Let her stay," said Squirrel. "It's not our problem."

"Shut up!" snapped Milos.

Allie closed her eyes. Things had not gone the way she had planned. In that way Everlost was no different than the living world. "You must let it go," Milos pleaded with her. "You must get to Memphis."

"Why? Why does it matter?"

Milos sighed. "Because ... there are things I have not told you."

Allie looked at him, a bit disgusted. "More lessons?"

He shook his head, and spoke in a calm, resigned voice. "No lessons. Because there are some things every skinjacker must learn for themselves. In this I can't help you. I can only point you in the right direction."

Allie wondered if he was just being enigmatic to distract her from thoughts of Mikey or if there was something he was truly hinting at. Either way, Milos was right–she had to move on, because if she stayed here, she would surely let herself sink to the center of the earth.

"All right," she said calmly. "All right, then." She stood, and gathered what fortitude she could. "Without Mikey, we don't have to walk." She looked at the cars whizzing past on the highway. "We can skinjack a family already driving to Memphis, and be there in two hours."

And she hoped that the farther away from here she got, the less it would hurt.

Getting to Memphis took a bit longer than two hours–but not much. First they had to find a car with four passengers at a nearby rest stop, making sure they were heading to or at least passing through Memphis.

Then there was the argument with Moose and Squirrel about how to do it–fully jack the fleshies, or merely hide within them, behind their consciousness, hitching a ride. "Hiding is for girls," said Squirrel, which just ticked Allie off.

The problem was solved when Moose confessed, "I don't know how to hide–with me itsh all or nothing." Apparently the finer points of skinjacking were beyond Moose.

In the end, it was agreed that they would all just skinjack a family in one fell swoop, put them to sleep, and then wake them up again once they had pulled off the interstate and were safe in some parking lot somewhere. The family would have to deal with inexplicably losing a few hours of their lives, but at least they would be closer to wherever they were going.

Milos drove, while Allie avoided looking in any mirrors, because she really didn't want to be reminded of what she was doing. In the backseat Moose and Squirrel inhabited a pair of six-year-old twins, and wouldn't stop bickering and picking their noses. They were clearly in their element.

They stopped just east of the city, and woke the family after they had parked, peeling out of them, and leaving them to make sense of the sudden time lapse. Allie, however lingered long enough to make her presence known in the woman's mind, telling her that all was well, and not to worry. It was the least she could do.

Immediately upon peeling into Everlost, they felt the wind that the Nashville Afterlights had spoken of. It was a stiff breeze coming from the west. While living-world wind passed through them, barely noticed, this wind did not.

"They said it gets worse the closer we get to the river," Squirrel said.

"I don't like it," said Moose. Even Milos looked unsettled. "I have heard people say that Everlost ends at the Mississippi River, but I never believed this. Now I think maybe it is true, and this wind is a barrier keeping us back."

"Good thing Memphis is on this side of the river, then," said Allie curtly. She didn't care about the wind. She didn't care about much of anything right now. Mikey's departure had left her numb.

So she was here. She had no address to go by, but she was resourceful. Finding her family might take some time, but she'd be able to do it. She wished that she didn't have to do it alone, but it wasn't Milos's help she wanted. Milos must have know that, because here is where he said his good-bye.

"We'll be heading north," he told her, his voice raised against the whistling wind. "The Afterlights in Nashville heard rumors of a skinjacking girl up in Illinois."

"Jackin' Jill?"

"One can only hope."

Behind them, Moose and Squirrel milled around impatiently, but Milos took his time. "I hope you find your family," he told Allie. "And once you do, you will see things in a whole different light." Then he kissed her hand, and turned to go.

Moose and Squirrel both gave her quick, obligatory waves good-bye. Then the three of them skinjacked some random fleshies, and they were gone.