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“We’re leaving here,” Jix told them. “There are boats in Corpus Christi that have crossed into Everlost—enough to carry all of us, and all the sleeping Interlights, south to the Great City of Souls.”
“So . . . ,” said Little Richard, who now followed Jix around. “There’re jaguar gods, a king, and a city of souls?”
“Yes,” Jix told him.
“In Mexico?”
“The living call it Mexico,” Jix said, “but the City of Souls existed before there were nations.”
It was on the evening before their departure that Jix dared to go into the saddle room to face Wurlitzer one last time. He did it because, deep down, he still feared it. Jix knew the jukebox would give him nightmares if Afterlights were able to dream. He didn’t know why—it had neither arms to grab him, nor legs to kick him, and it had no voice but the one the Neons allowed it to have. Perhaps that’s what he feared—how much power a thing could have when it was given permission to have it.
“You are nothing now,” Jix told it. Wurlitzer said nothing. “Your own greed has left you with no one to worship you.” Still, the machine said nothing. “And now you will stay here undiscovered until the end of time.”
And then a voice behind him said, “Wurlitzer made all this happen.” Jix turned to see Little Richard standing there with his empty piggy bank. “He played that ‘Downtown’ song because he knew we would take you outside and you would show us your powers.” Then with enough arrogance to make his point, but not enough to incur the wrath of the jaguar gods, Little Richard said, “Wurlitzer did this for you. You should thank him.”
Then the boy left, and Jix covered the machine, so that its light couldn’t attract anyone else to the room. There were no more coins, and no one to give the machine a voice . . . but Wurlitzer was destined to play one last song before falling silent forever.
CHAPTER 25
The Souler Eclipse
Allie had no choice but to introduce herself to her “home body,” Miranda. She needed an ally in the living world—not just a body she could borrow, but someone who could work on her own, and help track down the skinjackers responsible for these crimes against the living. Allie was quick to figure out that the Benson High fire was not an isolated incident. Whoever these psycho-jackers were—and Allie suspected there were more than one of them—they had to be stopped. She had her suspicions as to who they might be, but she wasn’t ready to pass judgment quite yet. She had always believed a person was innocent until proven guilty, and suspicion was not enough to convict Milos and his cast of idiots.
Allie introduced herself to Miranda slowly, carefully. She hid behind Miranda’s consciousness, and gave her a single stray thought one evening before Miranda went to bed. “I’m a friend and I am in here with you.” And then again, just as the girl woke up in the morning. “My name is Allie. Don’t be afraid.” Both times, Miranda thought it was just part of a dream, but she was wakeful enough to remember . . . so when Allie spoke to her deep within her mind in the school cafeteria that day, it didn’t come completely out of nowhere.
“I’ve been with you for a while,” Allie said in her mind. Miranda nearly choked on her chili, excused herself from her friends, and hurried to the bathroom.
“You’re not real,” Miranda said aloud. “You’re just in my head. It’s because my mom’s right, and I don’t get enough sleep.”
“I am in your head,” Allie told her. “But I’m also real. We’ll talk again later.” Then Allie pulled out, giving Miranda time to process this new wrinkle in her life.
That evening, as Miranda did her homework, Allie moved inside her again. She didn’t take over Miranda’s body, just met with her mind.
“Please,” said Allie. “I need your help. And if you help me, I’ll tell you things—amazing things that no one in the living world knows, as long as you promise to keep it a secret.”
But Miranda just put her hands over her ears as if she could shut out Allie’s voice. “No! No! I’m not listening! Go away! Go away!”
“Why don’t you and I go for a walk?” Allie told her.
“I don’t want to go for a walk. I’ll exorcise you.” Then she rummaged through her jewelry drawer and came up with a little gold cross which she held out to herself in the mirror. When that didn’t work, she ran into the kitchen thinking, “I’ll get garlic and eat an entire bulb of it. Garlic scares away demons!”
“No,” Allie said calmly. “That’s vampires. And besides, you’re allergic to garlic.”
Miranda stopped short. “How do you know that?”
“Let’s just say we’re much closer friends than you think.” Then Allie sensed Miranda dredging up thoughts of silver bullets and stakes through the heart. Allie did her best to control her temper and remind herself that she was the one trespassing in this girl’s very personal space.
“Listen,” Allie told her. “We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way.”
“What’s the hard way?” Miranda asked.
“This way.” And as smoothly as slipping into a bathrobe, Allie pushed herself forward and skinjacked Miranda, taking control of every muscle of her body—but didn’t put her to sleep. Miranda was awake, but now just a passenger in a body that Allie controlled.
“Now,” Allie told her out loud, “we are going out for a walk, and I promise you, I’ll tell you everything.”
They walked until after dark, but Allie was able to give Miranda control of her body after the first ten minutes. Miranda was a sensible girl. Once she realized that Allie meant her no harm and that having her own personal ghost was a really cool thing, Miranda agreed to their partnership.
Allie told her everything, just as she had promised: how a car crash had landed her and Nick in Everlost. How they found Mary and her “children” in the eternal towers. Allie told her about the awful monster called the McGill and the wonderful boy named Mikey who remained once the monster was gone. Then she told Miranda the dark secret behind the Benson High fire.
