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—My car! My car!— cried the jogger girl from deep inside. — What are you doing to my car!— Allie ignored her, determined to tool around side streets until she got a hang of it.
Driving, however, was not as easy as she thought, and “getting a hang of it,”
was going to take much longer than Allie realized. It was past noon now, and Allie felt no closer to being capable of driving the Porsche than when she started. Allie supposed she could ditch the car, and find other transportation—a bus maybe, but then, all the buses from Atlantic City went to New York or Philly. None went down to Cape May.
—Please — said the jogger girl, much calmer now. —I’ve heard your thoughts and I know where you want to go. Let me have control of my arms and legs so I can drive — Distracted, Allie ran a red light, and slammed on the brakes, coming to a stop right in the middle of the intersection. Angry horns blared, and cars swerved around her.
—Please— said the jogger girl again. —Before you get us both killed— Since Allie had no desire to experience death again, she relented, and backed off—not entirely, but enough to let the girl control her arms and legs, so she could drive. To Allie’s relief the girl didn’t fight. She simply pulled the car out of the intersection, and headed back to the main road that would take them out of Atlantic City.
Allie relaxed, like the captain of a ship letting the first mate navigate.
“Thank you,” she told the jogger girl. The jogger girl said nothing.
All was fine until they reached the bridge that connected Atlantic City with the mainland. Halfway across the bridge, the first mate mutinied. The jogger girl launched a sudden mental offensive that caught Allie completely off guard.
—Steal my body, will you? Invade my space? I DON’T THINK SO!— Then the jogger girl began to push—but she wasn’t pushing down, she was pushing out! Allie felt herself being hurled out of the girl’s body like a bad buffet lunch. She couldn’t feel a heartbeat anymore, or air moving in and out of her lungs. She was disconnected, and losing her grip.
Allie fought back, hoping it wasn’t too late, trying to dig her spirit in like a grappling hook, refusing to be cast off. She pulled herself back inside, and as they fought for control, the car began to swerve wildly on the bridge.
They sideswiped a car to the left, bounced off of it, and headed for the guard rail above the bay.
Do you see what you did? screamed the jogger girl.
“What I did?”
They smashed into the guard rail, and Allie had a horrifying moment of déjà vu.
The sound of crashing glass and metal. She was flying forward, she hit the windshield, and in an instant the windshield was behind her… …and yet this wasn’t the same as her fatal crash, for when she looked back she saw the jogger girl still in the driver’s seat, behind an inflated air bag. The girl got out of the car, frightened, bruised, but very much alive.
Only then did Allie realize what had happened. The crash had thrown Allie clear out of the girl’s body. Now Allie was a spirit again, and on the hood of the Porsche, sinking right through it.
Desperately she tried to find something to grab on to, but everything here was living world—there was nothing she could grasp. She felt the heat of the engine inside her as her body passed through it, and in a second she plunged through the car, which hung out over the edge of the bridge, and then she was falling through the air.
“Oh no! Oh no!”
She didn’t even feel the difference as the air became water—only the light around her changed. She was falling just as fast, and the dimming blue light of the bay became the charcoal darkness of the earth as she hit bottom. She could feel the mud of the bay inside her, and then solid bedrock. The density of the Earth slowed her, but not enough. Not enough. She was going down, and nothing could stop it now.
Stone in her heart, stone in her gut. Soon it would get hot. Soon it would be magma, and still she would fall until years from now she would find herself trapped in the center of gravity waiting for the end of the world. Allie was doomed.
Then she felt something grab her arm. What was that? She couldn’t see a thing in the solid stone darkness, but a voice, faint and muffled said, “Hold on to me, and don’t let go.”
And then she heard, of all things, the whinny of a horse.
On Everlost coins, Mary Hightower’s books have only this to say: “They do not sparkle, they do not shine, and they contain no precious metals. These so-called ‘coins’ are nothing more than useless, leaden slugs, and are best discarded along with one’s pocket lint, or better yet, tossed into a fountain for luck.”
Chapter 29
The Great Beyond At Mary’s insistence they had returned to Atlantic City to search for Vari, but he was nowhere to be found. In the end, Mary had to accept that something horrible had befallen him. Either he had slipped off the pier, or he had been captured by the McGill’s returning crew, and taken out to sea aboard the Sulphur Queen, which was also gone.
She could have gone after the ship, but it wasn’t even on the horizon anymore, and there was no telling in what direction it had gone. As it had been when Nick and Lief were captured by the Haunter, Mary had to put her children ahead of her own desires. She had a thousand refugee Afterlights aboard the airship, and her first responsibility was to them. Van was lost, and it weighed heavily on her, for, it had been her fault and her fault alone.
With mournful resignation, she ordered Speedo to take the Hindenburg aloft, and the ship of refugees resumed its journey north. Once they were airborne, Mary took to the stateroom she had claimed for herself, closed the door, lay down on the bed, and cried. Then she did something she hadn’t allowed herself to do for many years. She closed her eyes and slept.
Nick, however, did not sleep. He was emotionally exhausted, and should have, at the very least, taken some time to rest, but there was too much on his mind.
There were things that simply weren’t sitting right, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until he figured them out.
High up in the girders of the airship, Nick sat on a catwalk, in front of the bucket of coins that Mary had left in his care.
