The Skinjacker Trilogy Read online

  Johnnie-O worked the gum until it was soft again. He closed his eyes for a moment as he chewed. “A lot of flavor still left in this one,” he said. “Cinnamon.” Then he looked at Nick. “You always waste your gum like that?” he said. “I mean, when you were living?”

  Nick only shrugged. “I chew until I can’t taste it anymore.”

  Johnnie-O just kept on chewing. “You ain’t got no tastebuds.”

  “Can I have it next?” said Purple-puss.

  “Don’t be gross,” Johnnie-O said.

  Allie laughed at that, and Johnnie-O threw her a sharp gaze, followed by a second gaze that was more calculated.

  “You’re not the prettiest thing, are you?” he said.

  Her lips pulled tightly together in anger, and she knew that made her less attractive, which only made her angrier. “I’m pretty enough,” she said. “I’m pretty in my own way.” Which was true. No one had ever called Allie a ravishing beauty, but she knew very well that she wasn’t unattractive, either. What made her madder still was that she had to justify herself and the way she looked to this big-handed creep, who chewed other people’s used gum. “On a scale of one to ten,” Allie said, “I suppose I’m a seven. But you, on the other hand, I estimate you to be about a three.” She could tell that it stung, mainly because it was true.

  “Seven’s not worth lookin’ at,” he said. “And the way I see it, we’re not going to have to look at each other much longer, are we?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Nick, who did not like the sound of it any more than Allie did.

  Johnnie-O crossed his arms, making his oversized hands seem even larger compared to his small chest. “A single piece of gum don’t buy you passage over my territory,” he said. He turned to Nick. “Which means you gots to be my servant now.”

  “We’ll do no such thing,” said Allie.

  “I wasn’t talkin’ to you. We don’t need the likes of you around here.”

  “Well,” said Allie, “I’m not going without him.”

  And the others laughed.

  “Oh,” said Raggedy Andy, “I don’t think he’ll want to go where you’re going.”

  Allie didn’t quite know what that meant, but even so, she started to panic.

  “Grab her,” Johnnie-O ordered his comrades.

  Allie knew she had to think of something quick, and so she said the first thing that came to mind. “Stay away from me or I’ll call the McGill!”

  That stopped them dead in their tracks.

  “What are you talkin’ about?” said Johnnie-O, not as sure of himself as he was a second ago.

  “You heard me!” Allie yelled. “The McGill and I have a special arrangement. It comes when I call it. And I feed it bad little thieves whose hands are bigger than their brains.”

  “She’s lying,” said another kid, who hadn’t spoken until now, probably because he had such a nasty, squeaky voice.

  Johnnie-O looked all irritated. “Of course she’s lying.” He looked at Allie and then back at the quiet kid. “So how do you know she’s lying?”

  “She’s a Greensoul—probably just crossed over,” the squeaky kid said, “which means she hasn’t even seen the McGill.”

  “Besides,” said Purple-puss, “no one sees the McGill and lives.”

  “Except for her,” said Nick, figuring out his own angle on the situation. “That’s why I stay with her. As long as I’m with her, the McGill protects me, too.”

  “So, what’s it look like?” Johnnie-O said, looking closely at Allie, trying to read the bluff in her face.

  “Well, I could tell you,” she said, using one of her father’s favorite lines. “But then I’d have to kill you.”

  The others laughed at that, and so Johnnie-O curled his heavy hand into a fist and smashed the closest kid for laughing. He flew back about five feet. Then Johnnie-O got closer to Allie again.

  “I think you’re lying,” he said.

  “Guess you’ll just have to find out,” Allie taunted back. “Touch me and I call the McGill.”

  Johnnie-O hesitated. He looked at Allie, looked at Nick, then looked at the boys around him. His authority had been challenged, and Allie realized too late that she should have figured another bluff—one that would allow this little creep to keep his dignity, because a kid like this would rather risk getting eaten by a monster than be disrespected by a girl.

  He looked her square in the eye and said, “You’re going down.” With that, he snapped his fingers, a dry, brittle sound, like a cracking plate. Then three kids grabbed her, pulled her off the dead-spot, put her down on the living-world roadway, and began to lean heavily on her shoulders.

  In an instant she had sunk into the asphalt up to her knees, and an instant later up to her waist.

  “No!” she screamed. “McGill, McGill!” she called.

  It only gave them a brief moment’s pause, and when the beast did not materialize out of thin air, they kept on pushing. Now it was easier for them, with Allie in up to her waist.

  Nick struggled and kicked against the hands holding him, but it was no use. All he could do was watch as the others leaned and pressed on Allie’s shoulders, pushing her deeper and deeper into the ground. Soon her shoulders disappeared and she was up to her neck and still she was screaming, hysterically now, and Johnnie-O just laughed.

  “Let me do the honors,” he said. And with that, he came over, grabbed her on the top of the head and began to push down. “Enjoy the trip,” he said. “Don’t bother writing.”

  And then another voice entered the fray. A high-pitched scream came out of nowhere, and a figure burst onto the scene, arms flailing wildly.

  “The McGill!” shouted one of the other boys, “the McGill!”

  Again that squealing war cry, and then Allie heard no more of it, for her ears and her eyes and the top of her head had sunk into the asphalt. Johnnie-O had stopped pushing, but gravity was doing the rest. The earth had her like quicksand and she was going down. She tried to scream, but no sound came out, it was completely muffled by the earth filling it. The Earth had swallowed her, and the feeling of it in her chest—in that place where her lungs should have been—was more awful than anything she could remember, and it dawned on her that this could very well be her eternity. She was on her way to the center of the Earth. How deep was she beneath the surface of the road now? Six inches? Six feet? She forced her arms to move, using every ounce of strength she had. It was like swimming in molasses. She forced one hand up high, and tried to haul herself upward, but it did no good. Then, just before all hope left her, someone reached down out of nowhere, grabbed her hand, and pulled. She felt herself sliding upward inch by inch. She forced her other hand up through the asphalt until her fingertips brushed the cool air, and someone grasped on to that hand as well. She moved up, and could feel the top of her head and her eyes and ears clearing, and finally her mouth, and she released the scream that had been held back by the dirt and the rocks, like a gag in her mouth.

  Had Johnnie-O and his gang changed their minds? Or was this the monster that she had summoned out of the woods, pulling her out of the Earth, only to devour her? But with her eyes clear, she could now see into the face of her savior.

  “Lief?”

  “Are you okay?” Lief said. “I thought you were lost for sure.”

  Nick was there too, and together the both of them pulled until Allie came out and landed on the solid ground of the dead-spot. She collapsed in a heap, breathing heavily, and Lief looked at her strangely.

  “I know, I know,” said Allie. “I don’t have to be out of breath, but I want to be. It feels right to be.”

  “It’s okay,” said Lief. “Maybe someday you can teach me to feel that way again.”

  “Where’s Johnnie-O and his cast of morons?” Allie asked.

  “Gone,” Nick told her. “They were so freaked when Lief came charging out at them, they took off.”

  Lief laughed. “They really thought I was the McGill. Ain’t that a hoot and a half?”

  Lief began to pull ghost weeds from beneath the WELCOME TO ROCKLAND COUNTY! sign, and used their stalks to repair his road-shoes, which must have broken when he charged Johnnie-O. “Have you been following us all this time?” Allie asked.

  Lief shrugged. “Well, yeah. I had to make sure you didn’t get eaten by no monsters, didn’t I?”

  “Great,” said Nick. “We’ve got our own guardian angel.”

  “If I were an angel, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

  Allie smiled. After all these years Lief had left his forest for them. It could not have been a choice he made lightly, and so she vowed to herself that from this moment on, she would look out for him in any way she could.

  They didn’t wait until dawn, figuring Johnnie-O and his gang might come back. Rather than being troubled by the encounter, Allie found herself heartened by it. Nick was his usual gloom and doom, talking about Lord of the Flies and the dangers of rogue bands of parentless kids—but even in his worry, there was a new energy—because running into Johnnie-O proved that there were lots of Afterlights around. Not all of them would be as unpleasant as Johnnie-O’s gang.

  They came to the Hudson River, and stayed on the highway that ran along the Palisades: sheer cliffs, carved by the relentless glaciers of the last Ice Age, which lined the western shore of the river. Traffic became denser, but they bore it no mind, not caring if the occasional car passed through them. In fact, for a while they tried to make a game of it, trying to figure out what song was playing on the radio during the brief instant each car sped through.

  “The things we dead folk do to amuse ourselves,” Allie said, heaving a heavy sigh. The game didn’t last long, mainly because Lief, who had never heard a car radio, much less rock ‘n’ roll, felt increasingly left out.

  By sunset of the next day, the cheese-grater gridwork of the George Washington Bridge appeared downriver, heralding their arrival in New York City.

  Lief was overwhelmed by the sight of the great city looming before him. It was a clear day, and the whole skyline could be seen from across the river. Lief had been to New York before. Twice. Once for the Fourth of July, and once for Mr. P. T. Barnum’s circus. There were tall buildings to be sure, but none like these.

  Nick and Allie stared as well. Lief assumed they were also in awe of the spectacular view. In truth, they were awed, but for an entirely different reason.

  “I think I know where we should go,” Nick said, a strange hollowness to his voice. Allie didn’t answer him for a while.

  “Manhattan is out of our way,” Allie finally said. “We should stay on this side of the river, and keep heading south.”

  Nick looked to the city again. “I don’t care what you say. I’m taking a detour.”

  This time Allie didn’t argue.

  Night had fallen by the time they reached the Manhattan side of the bridge. It took the whole night without rest to make it to the heart of the city.

  The towers of midtown Manhattan would have taken Lief’s breath away, if he indeed had breath to be stolen. But the most wondrous sights of all were the two silver towers he saw glimmering in the light of dawn as they neared the southern tip of the city. The two towers were identical monoliths, steel and glass twins reflecting a silvery light of daybreak.

  “I never knew buildings like that existed,” Lief said.

  Allie sighed. “They don’t exist,” she said. “At least … not anymore.”

  Lief could tell the sadness in her voice went straight down to the center of the Earth.

  PART TWO

  Mary, Queen of Snots

  CHAPTER 7

  The Forever Places

  In the course of time and history there are certain places that can never truly be lost. The living world by its very nature moves on, but some places are forever. The boy now called Lief had the good fortune to stumble upon such a place many years before: a lush mountain forest that had once been the inspiration for poets. The place brimmed with such warmth and good feeling, it inspired countless young men to propose marriage beneath its canopy, and countless young women to accept. The woods caused stiff-collared people to lose their inhibitions and dance among the leaves, wild with joy, even though they knew such dancing could have them condemned as witches.

  The forest was a fulcrum of life, and so when it grew old, and a beetle infestation routed bark and bough, the forest did not die. Instead it crossed. Its life persisted—not in the living world, but in Everlost. Here it would be eternally green, and on the verge of turning, just as the poets themselves would have liked to see it, had they not gotten where they were going.

  It can be said, then, that Everlost is heaven. Perhaps not for people, but for the places that deserve a share of forever.

  Such places are few and far between, these grand islands of eternity in the soupy, ever-changing world of the living. New York had its share of forever-places. The greatest of these stood near Manhattan’s southern-most tip: the two gray brothers to the green statue in the bay. The towers had found their heaven. They were a part of Everlost now, held fast, and held forever by the memories of a mourning world, and by the dignity of the souls who got where they were going on that dark September day.

  The three kids approached the great twin towers in silence. What they saw as they neared them was not at all what they expected.

  There were children there. Dozens of Afterlight kids playing on the grand marble plaza: hopscotch, tag, hide-and- seek. Some were dressed like Allie, in jeans and a T-shirt. Others were more formal. Still more had clothes that seemed more from Lief’s time, all coarse and heavy. A few kids wore the gaudy bright colors of the seventies, with big hair to match.

  They hadn’t been noticed yet, as they stood just beyond the edge of the plaza. Allie and Nick were almost afraid to step onto it, as if doing so would cross them into yet another world. They stood there so long they sank to their ankles, even with their road-shoes on.

  As Lief’s sense of awe did not have history nor context for this place, he had no problem moving forward. “C’mon,” he said, “what are you waiting for?”

  Nick and Allie looked at one another, then took that first step forward, onto the very solid marble of the plaza that no longer existed. After the first step it became easier. It felt strange beneath their feet, so much solid ground. A team of girls playing double-dutch jump rope noticed them first.

  “Hi!” said an African-American girl in drab clothes and tight cornrowed hair. “You’re Greensouls, aren’t you?” All the time, she never stopped spinning her two ropes. Neither did the girl on the other end, who seemed entirely out of place there in the plaza, dressed in teddy-bear pajamas. Other girls skillfully jumped in and out of the arc of their spinning ropes. One girl took enough time away from the game, though, to size them up. She wore a sparkling silver halter top, and jeans that were so tight, she looked like a sausage bursting out of its skin. She looked Allie over, clearly unimpressed by Allie’s nonglittering wardrobe. “Is that what they wear now?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.”

  Then the girl in tight jeans looked at Lief, examining his clothes as well. “You’re not a Greensoul.”

  “Says who?” said Lief, insulted.

  “He’s new to the city,” Allie said. “He might have crossed a long time ago, but he’s still kind of like a ‘Greensoul.’”

  A big red handball came flying past, chased by a group of younger kids. The ball flew out of the plaza and into the street, crowded with the living. “Hurry,” one little boy yelled, “before it sinks!”

  Another boy raced out into traffic, grabbed the ball that was already beginning to sink into the pavement, and disappeared beneath a city bus and two taxis. He paid them no mind, passing through the trunk of the last taxi as he stood up with the ball, and happily ran back to the plaza.

  “You remember all those things your momma told you not to do?” said the girl with the cornrows. “Like not running out into traffic? Well, you can do them here.”

  “Who’s in charge?” asked Nick.

  “Mary,” she said. “You oughta go and see her. She loves Greensouls.” Then she added, “We were all Greensouls once.”

  Nick tapped Allie on the shoulder. “Look,” he said.

  By now their presence had been noticed by most of the kids around the plaza. Many of the games had stopped, and the kids stared, not sure what to do. Out of the crowd a girl stepped forward. She had long blond hair that nearly touched the floor, wore a tie-dyed shirt, and bell-bottoms so big, the cuffs practically trailed behind her like a bridal train. A ‘60s hippie girl, if ever there was one.

  “Don’t tell me,” said Allie, “your name is Summer, and you want to know if we’re groovy.”

  “My name’s Meadow, and I don’t say groovy anymore, because I got tired of people making fun of me.”

  “Do you have to insult everybody you meet?” Nick whispered to Allie, then turned back to Meadow. “I’m Nick, and this is Lief. The rude one is Allie.”

  “I wasn’t being rude,” Allie insisted. “I was being facetious. There’s a difference.”

  “No sweat,” said Meadow, which was almost as bad as groovy. “C’mon, I’ll take you to Mary.” Then she looked down. “What are those on your feet?”

  They looked down to the bundles of sticks extending from the soles of their shoes. “Road-shoes,” said Nick. “Kind of like snowshoes, so we don’t sink, you know?”

  “Hmm. Clever,” said Meadow. “But you won’t need them anymore.”

  They took off their road-shoes, and followed Meadow across the plaza toward Tower One. Behind them, the rest of the kids returned to their games.

  They passed a fountain in the center of the plaza, and Meadow turned to them.

  “Would you like to make a wish?” Meadow asked. A closer look revealed the fountain to be full of coins beneath the shimmering water.

  “Not really,” Allie said.