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Allie threw him a disapproving glare. "You of all people shouldn't talk about greed!"
When she turned her eyes back to Milos they were all sympathetic again, and Mikey just couldn't stand it. He stood up and strode away.
"Where are you going?" Allie asked.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe I'll catch up with Jackin' Jill."
Allie started after Mikey, but snared herself on a barbed wire fence that, for reasons unknown, had crossed into Everlost. A sharp steel barb tore a deep gash on her arm that felt momentarily weird before it zipped itself closed. By the time she looked up, Mikey was gone.
"Let him go," said Milos, coming up behind her. "Clearly he has ... what is that expression?'Skeletons in his closet.' "
"Yeah, and bats in his belfry," Allie said.
Milos looked at her, puzzled. "This expression I do not know."
"Never mind," she said, not wanting to get into it. Mikey's temper tantrums had gotten fewer and further between, but they never went away completely. His moodiness always surfaced in the company of other Afterlights. Social skills were never his strong point. As for "skeletons in his closet," that implied he had secrets Allie didn't know-- but she knew all his secrets, didn't she?
"Whatever bee he's got in his bonnet, he'll get over it," Allie said. Milos smiled. "Bats in belfries, bees in bonnets--this is why I love English."
Allie turned to return to their campsite on the highway, but then Milos said something that stopped her.
"You know ... I could teach you things."
She slowly turned back to him. "What do you mean?"
Milos sauntered closer to her, hands in his pockets. "If you came skinjacking with us, there are many things I could teach you. Skinjacking is more than just climbing inside fleshies and putting them to sleep."
"If you're talking about your little business of delivering messages to the living, no thank you. I don't want to be a part of ... of DeadEx."
"This is not what I mean," said Milos, his voice brimming with hushed excitement. "I am talking about the joy of it!"
Allie immediately thought to the time she had gone out into the rain. She understood the joy he was talking about, but it was always overshadowed by the guilt she felt stealing moments that weren't hers.
"Have you never dreamed of being someone else?" Milos asked. "Someone rich, or beautiful, or powerful. Have you never longed, if only for a few minutes, to live someone else's life?"
"Of course I have... ."
"And yet you do not do it? Why is this?"
"Because it's wrong!"
"Who told you it was wrong? Was it Mikey?"
"No!" said Allie. "I don't need him to tell me the difference between right and wrong."
Milos took a long look at Allie. "Skinjackers are not like other Afterlights, Allie, and we all must learn to accept this. Because not only are we given this power, but also a powerful hunger to use it."
"A hunger that we should resist!" insisted Allie.
"Resist our nature? Do you not think that would be wrong?"
Allie found that Milos was standing just a bit too close, and she took a step back. He was making far too much sense, and it troubled her. She had wanted another skinjacker to talk to--someone who could understand the things she felt. She thought it would be a case of misery-loves-company. She never expected to find a skinjacker who reveled in possessing the living, turning it into an art form. A way of life. What if he was right, and resisting that powerful pull to flesh was the wrong thing for her to do?
"Flesh and bone deserves to be appreciated," Milos said. "Those who have it take it for granted, but not us! We appreciate every breath, every breeze, every beat of the heart. And so, by borrowing their flesh, we are the ones who give their bodies the dignity they have lost."
All the reservations that held Allie back--that slapped her down every time she skinjacked--were beginning to feel insignificant, and she was torn. If skinjacking truly was her nature, shouldn't she embrace it?
"Please," said Milos, "let me teach you. Let me show you some of the things I know. I promise you will not be disappointed!"
