Everwild (The Skinjacker Trilogy)

by Neal Shusterman

  Then the woman closed the door, to the protests of the baby, who began to wail over the fact that the box was not for him.

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  Allie went to other homes on the street, but few neighbors were home, and the ones who did come to the door were clueless.

  Allie returned to the UPS truck, took one last breath of the flavorful June air, then pulled herself out of the delivery man. Ending a skinjacking was as unpleasant as beginning one, and sometimes a fleshie who fit too well was hard to escape from--especially when she'd stayed inside for a while. Fortunately the UPS man was not one of those. She was able to extricate herself without too much effort, peeling him off like a loose-fitting robe. She suffered a moment of vertigo, and the instinctive panic of spirit separating from flesh. She endured the transition, and when she opened her eyes, the living world had faded to blurred, washed-out hues. She was back in Everlost. Beside her, the deliveryman stumbled for a moment, quickly shook off his confusion, and went to deliver his package to the proper house, never knowing that he had been skinjacked.

  "What happened?" Mikey asked, coming up to her. "Were they there? Did you talk to them?"

  "They moved to Memphis," she told him, still a bit dazed by it all.

  Mikey sighed. "So ... I suppose that means we're going to Tennessee."

  She offered him an apologetic grin that wasn't all that apologetic. It was disheartening to know that her home was no longer hers, and troubling to have so far to go until she could find out the truth. Yet there was relief in it as well ... because Memphis was far, far away, and that meant she wouldn't be losing Mikey so quickly! Looking

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  at him now, he seemed taller. Majestic. There was a reason for that.

  "You're sinking," Mikey said.

  Laughing, Allie reached out to him. He took her hand gently but firmly, and eased her out of the ground.

  They left, but as they did, Allie couldn't help but look back toward the deliveryman, who was now heading back to his truck. She couldn't deny how much she enjoyed the lingering sensation of flesh. Each time she skinjacked, it felt more and more seductive.

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  In her book Caution, This Means You, Mary Hightower has this to say about the Everwild:

  "Finders who survive excursions into the untamed corners of Everlost tell stories of things strange, mystical, and dangerous. Whether or not these stories of the Everwild are true do not matter to the sensible Afterlight, for all sensible Afterlights know that it's best to leave the wild wild, and the Unknown unknown. Venturing beyond one's personal zone of safety is always ill-advised, and can only end in profound unpleasantness."

  It is important to note that Mary wrote this before she, herself, took to the skies.

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  CHAPTER 5 Southern Discomfort

  Nick had never seen a city with so many deadspots. They were so numerous that they could hardly be called deadspots at all. The city of Atlanta belonged as much to Everlost as it did to the living world. The streets were part cobblestone, part asphalt, part dirt. The night was lit by just as many gas lamps as modern street-lights. Buildings from multiple time periods seemed to occupy the same space, fighting to claim "dominant reality." It made it very clear to Nick that as much as he thought he knew and understood Everlost, he barely knew anything at all.

  Their train slowly, cautiously rolled forward on tracks that once carried the Civil War dead. Then, as the train neared the center of Atlanta, the living world road began to fill the train like an asphalt river.

  "We're sinking!" shouted Johnnie-O. "We're sinking into the earth! Stop the train!"

  "I don't think that's it," said Charlie. "It's more like the street's rising. We're still riding on tracks."

  "I have a feeling we're in for a few more surprises," said Nick.

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  * * *

  Long ago, when the battle between locomotive and automobile came to Atlanta, the city was caught in a dilemma. Atlanta, being the chief railroad city of the south, had so many trains, there was simply no room for cars. Then the city planners had a brilliant idea. The words "brilliant" and "city planning" usually don't go together. However, in this instance, the solution was not only brilliant, it was elegant.

  Why not build roads above the train tracks?

  And so by building automobile viaducts above the central railroad gulch, the city of Atlanta was effectively raised almost twenty feet. The first floor of every building was now underground--and second floors became the new ground floors. Then, as cars took over, and rail lines closed down, those old subterranean storefronts were forgotten. Thus was born underground Atlanta--and although modern business interests have turned parts of it into a mall, the real Atlanta underground belongs to Everlost.

  The train rolled down the underground street in near darkness, but then the faint, pale blue glow of Afterlights began to fill the street around them. Afterlights were quite literally coming out of the woodwork--not dozens, but hundreds, and, like the buildings around them, these kids were from every era in history. Some held bricks, others metal pipes or bats--but one thing was clear--every single one of them was armed and prepared for a fight.

  "Sticks and stones can't break my bones," said Johnnie-O, reciting the familiar Everlost rhyme.

  "But names can always hurt me," finished Nick. True

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  enough, because an Everlost name can define you, and not always for the better. "It's not the sticks and stones I'm worried about," Nick said. "It's that look in their eyes."

  Nick could see the intensity of their stares. It was a look that spoke of first strikes against intruders. These kids had a communal instinct for self-preservation that left no room for compassion.

  "If they want a fight, they'll get one," said Johnnie-O.

  Charlie looked at him, worried, and Nick gripped Charlie's shoulder to ease his mind, leaving behind a brown handprint. Johnnie-O might think with his fists, but Nick knew better than to provoke a fight here. More and more kids flooded the street around them. Then, when it seemed that every Afterlight in Atlanta had come out of hiding, Nick said, "Stop the train."

  Charlie turned to him, and Nick swore that his afterglow grew a little pale. "You're kidding, right?"

  "Dead serious."

  Charlie gripped the brake lever, but made no move to stop the train, for his fear would not allow it. "But look-- they're keeping out of our way. If we just keep moving, we'll make it through, doncha think?"

  "Who says I want to make it through?"

  Charlie shook his head, as if trying to shake off the thought. "You can't be thinking of giving them all coins! There's not enough in the world!"

  But that wasn't true; the bucket was never empty. Still, it wouldn't be a good idea to start making kids disappear. The mob would get confused and frightened. The mob would attack. Nick, however, had another reason for making a pit stop here.

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  "Trust me," Nick said, although he wasn't really sure he trusted himself. Still, Charlie sighed and pulled on the brake. The steam engine came to a wheezing, shuddering halt.

  "Now what?" asked Johnnie-O.

  Nick reached for the door. "I'll be right back."

  Johnnie-O stepped in front of him. "I'm going with you."

  "No ... . Your hands might scare them."

  Johnnie-O smirked. "And your face won't?"

  He had a point. "Okay," said Nick, "but you've got to lose that scowl. I want you to smile like an idiot. Can you do that?"

  Johnnie-O took a deep breath and smiled like the best of idiots. He did it so well, it was scary. Probably scary enough for the kids outside to throw bricks. So Nick pulled Johnnie-O aside and whispered to him. "Actually, I'm more worried about Charlie panicking. It might be a good idea to keep an eye on him."

  The grin left Johnnie-O's face, and he nodded, accepting this new security detail. "On second thought," he said loudly, "maybe I'll stay here and keep my buddy Charlie company."

  Charlie seemed relieved to
know he wasn't being left alone.

  Nick opened the door and stepped down from the engine. Around him the Afterlights of Atlanta backed away, cautious and guarded. He didn't know whether they had heard of the so-called Chocolate Ogre, but even if they hadn't, seeing a face such as his gave him a psychological advantage. A kind of authority of the uncanny.

  "Who's in charge here?" Nick asked them.

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  No one answered right away.

  "C'mon--a group this big has to have someone in charge."

  There were murmurs in the crowd, and then someone spoke, Nick couldn't be sure who it was. "You mean in charge of us, or all Atlanta?"

  Interesting, thought Nick. That meant that there was some sort of structure here. Maybe even a government.

  "When I say in charge, I mean in charge," he answered.

  The crowd murmured again, and once the murmurs had died down, Nick said, "I'll be waiting." Then he strode back to the train, and prepared for a meeting with the eminent ruler of Atlanta.

  They kept Nick waiting in the parlor car for more than an hour. It could have been intentional, or it simply could have taken that long to retrieve the kid in charge. Nick gave them the benefit of the doubt. The kid who finally climbed into the parlor car was a tall and gangly African-American Afterlight, about sixteen or so. The torn, shabby clothes he wore made Nick wonder if perhaps he had been a slave when he was alive, and yet there was a confidence to his stride that bristled with powerful independence. Whatever this boy had been forced to endure in life, he had certainly risen above it here.

  He looked Nick over and said, "What's wrong with your face?"

  Apparently stories of the Chocolate Ogre had not reached Atlanta after all. He didn't know whether to be grateful or annoyed. Either way, he didn't feel like answering

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  the question. "Please sit down," he said. "Let's talk."

  The Afterlight introduced himself as Isaiah. He didn't offer to shake Nick's hand.

  "Tell me about Atlanta," Nick said. "How many of you are there?"

  Apparently Nick wasn't the only one reluctant to give answers. Isaiah crossed his arms. "First tell me about your train," he said. "I've never seen an Everlost train before."

  "My train is my business."

  "Well, maybe it won't be your train anymore."

  Nick wasn't sure whether this was an actual threat, or just a show of force. He decided to match Isaiah's confidence measure for measure.

  "You won't take my train."

  "How can you be sure?"

  "Because," said Nick, "if you meant to steal it from me, you would have done it already. Besides, you don't strike me as the type. I think you're honorable. I think that's how you got to be in charge here. You probably overthrew some bully, and had everyone's support, because the kids here trusted you."

  Isaiah smiled. "I took down a whole lot of bullies, actually." He didn't let the smile linger for long. "Honorable or not, you're trespassing."

  "It's not trespassing if we stop the train, and ask for permission to pass." Isaiah was not impressed, so Nick added. "Besides, I have something you need."

  "And what might that be?"

  "News of the world," Nick told him. "News from the north."

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  "I didn't think there was a north in Everlost," Isaiah said. "And anyway, whatever happens there don't matter to us."

  Nick kept silent, waiting for Isaiah's curiosity to kick in. Finally Isaiah said, "What kind of news."

  "Have you heard of Mary, the Sky Witch?"

  Isaiah shrugged. "Sure I have--but it's just a story, everyone knows it's not true."

  "That's where you're wrong." Then Nick told him everything he knew about Mary. How she had kept hundreds of younger kids from finding the light, and leaving Everlost. How Nick had freed them himself, right under her nose ... and how she was now gathering more Afterlights to mother, to pamper, to trap. This time, however, he had reason to believe that Mary was building herself an army.

  "Did you give them coins?" Isaiah asked. "Is that how you freed them?"

  "You know about the coins?"

  Isaiah nodded. "We all had them once, but lost them, or tossed them. Most of the kids here don't know what they're for, but some of us do." He became thoughtful for a moment. "I'd like to think we'll find them again. When we're truly ready to move on."

  "Maybe there's a whole bucketful waiting for you." And that's all Nick said about it. Something told him that freeing the kids of Atlanta was best left for another day.

  "There may come a time when everyone in Everlost will have to take sides," Nick told Isaiah. "Can I count on you if I need you?"

  "If there's a side to choose, I'll choose it when the time comes," Isaiah said, keeping a stern poker face. "But right

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  now, you can count on me to let you pass through Atlanta safely."

  Nick nodded respectfully. "Thank you."

  Isaiah prepared to rise, thinking their meeting of the minds was over--but Nick wasn't quite done.

  "One more thing," Nick said. "Because I've heard rumors ... Maybe you could tell me if they're true."

  Isaiah smiled. It was unguarded, uncalculated. It was genuine. "So what would you like to know?"

  Nick cleared his throat, and tried to figure the best way to word the question. In the end he decided to just be direct.

  "What do you know about 'The Ripper'?"

  Isaiah's expression was stony. He took a moment before answering as if he had to control some emotion before allowing himself to speak. "I know what they say about him. Not sure if I believe it all, but I don't want to find out."

  "Tell me what they say."

  Isaiah gripped the arms of his chair as he spoke. "They call him Zach the Ripper. They say he was a bad seed when he was alive, and even worse afterward. Evil to the core, and dumb as a post. They say he hates the living so much, he reaches into the living world and pulls their hearts right out of their bodies."

  "Ecto-ripping!" Nick said, not sure whether he was more amazed or horrified.

  "They say he can pull anything out of the living world and into Everlost ... but that kind of ability, it can make a person crazy."

  Nick nodded. He had known a spirit called the Haunter.

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  Ecto-ripping was just one of his powers. He might have been insane, or simply corrupted by his power from the inside out. Regardless, he was darkly evil, and had imprisoned Nick in a brine-filled barrel, where he might have stayed until the end of time, had things been different. The thought of facing another Afterlight like the Haunter made him shiver.

  "There's more," Isaiah said, but then he hesitated, as if he was afraid to even speak it aloud. "People say the Ripper can also reach right inside an Afterlight, and pull stuff out, too. And when he does, the wound doesn't heal ... and whatever he takes ... it don't grow back."

  "That's impossible." Nick knew enough about Everlost to know Afterlight "flesh" wasn't like living flesh at all. Wounds were bloodless, and zipped closed instantly. "You can't hurt an Afterlight."

  "Maybe it's just a story," said Isaiah. "But maybe not."

  Was Nick crazy to be searching for a spirit such as this? Probably. But on the other hand, Mary was building herself an army, and what did he have? Johnnie-O and Charlie? If he were ever to face Mary again, he would need powerful allies by his side to help balance the odds.

  Allies ... and Allie.

  He wondered where Allie was now. Of course he wanted to see her again--but he had also spent a lot of time thinking about her skinjacking skill. What an amazing power that was! And terrifying, too. Or at least it would be, in the wrong hands. Thank goodness Allie was a decent girl with a conscience-- because her skill could really make a difference in a battle against Mary.

  But Nick had to admit, with a heavy heart, that there

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  was no guarantee he'd ever see Allie again. Which meant he had to find other kids with unique powers to stand against
Mary.

  "Tell me where to find the Ripper," Nick said to Isaiah.

  Isaiah sighed, and told Nick where the Ripper was rumored to be. "Like I said, it may just be a story--no guarantee he'll be there."

  Then they shook hands. "I hope to see you again," Nick said.

  Isaiah couldn't look him in the eye. "You won't," he said. "Because if you find the Ripper, you're never coming back."

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  CHAPTER 6 Shuttle Diplomacy

  The tracks ended.

  They didn't end at the ghost of some grand terminal--they just stopped. Whoever built them must have ripped them out of the living world even before the rail line was completed. Charlie pulled on the brake just in time, and the train squealed to a reluctant stop, just a dozen yards before the tracks vanished. "Lucky I saw it!" Charlie said. "If we went off the end, this whole train woulda sunk, with us still in it."

  Charlie etched the end of the line on the map he was making on the engine bulkhead. "There was a spur that went off west, maybe twenty, thirty miles back. We could back her up and see where that track goes... ."

  "Maybe later," Nick told him, and turned to Johnnie-O. "We'll walk the rest of the way."

  Johnnie-O did not seem pleased. "Rest of the way where?"

  Nick didn't answer him. "Charlie, you stay with the train." He thought for a moment, then added, "You'll wait for us, right?"

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  "Sure ... unless those Atlanta kids show up."

  Nick nodded his understanding, and he and Johnnie-O went south, pushing through dense living-world brush that tickled their insides as they walked.

  In time they came to a two-lane highway that ran east and west, cutting through the flat, forested Florida terrain. Nick turned east, and they followed the road, which was easier to walk on than the marshy earth.