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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.
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