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“I knew it,” Miranda said. “I knew that Fellon kid was innocent. I’m glad he escaped.” And then she gasped. While Allie was pretty good at keeping her mind separate from the people she skinjacked, she had let her guard down and Miranda caught a brief glimpse into Allie’s thoughts. She knew Allie had been the one who helped Seth Fellon escape, and it impressed her almost as much as it scared her. “You’re like a superhero,” Miranda said. “The Souler Eclipse.”
“Let’s not go there,” Allie said, because losing one’s humility was a dangerous thing for a skinjacker . . . although she had to admit she liked the name.
The next day, Miranda took the money she was saving for a new phone and bought a police scanner, which she listened to in all her free time, while Allie wandered the streets night and day looking for signs of Afterlights. Now every single police action, every single accident, every siren blare got their attention. There was no telling where the psycho-jackers would strike next or what nature of terror they would bring upon the living world. Then one night, the police scanner pulled in emergency chatter on more than a dozen different frequencies, calling all cars to the Regency Theater.
The police scanner had been a good idea, but it could only tell of things that had already happened, not what was about to happen. Allie and Miranda arrived at the scene an hour too late; the street outside the Regency theater was already blocked by police tape. Allie had never seen so many squad cars in one place. Or ambulances.
The theater’s marquis advertised a much-anticipated concert by teen singing sensation Rhoda Dakota . . . But Rhoda wasn’t singing anymore. In fact, she’d never sing in the living world again . . . but that wasn’t the half of it. Apparently there had been a combination of deadly “coincidences.” The fire sprinklers came on for no reason, hitting a damaged electrical line at the front of the stage. The short circuit should have tripped the circuit breakers, but somehow it didn’t, and the result was disastrous. The panicking crowd had raced out of the theater, but Rhoda and more than thirty fans never had a chance. News crews were already on the scene, and even the most jaded of reporters were fighting back tears.
“Go home,” Allie told Miranda. “There’s nothing you can do here.”
“What about you?” Miranda asked.
“I’ve got work to do.” And with that, she peeled out of Miranda.
In Everlost the chasing squad car lights were muted, and the voices of emergency workers faint. Allie raced into the theater, but there was no sign of the culprits. They were long gone, leaving only carnage and deadspots—so many deadspots—and each one marked the place where someone’s life had ended.
“Who would do this?” Allie said furiously, knowing that no one was there to answer her. But someone did.
“Us,” said the voice of a young girl. “We would do it.”
Allie turned to see a single Afterlight there, standing all alone in the center aisle. She couldn’t have been any older than seven or eight when she crossed.
“He said Mary wanted us to, but I don’t believe it. Ever since Mary found me in the playground, and took me up in her silver balloon, she’s been nice to me. She would never do such a horrible thing.”
Well, obviously this girl hadn’t been watching when Mary had her skinjackers blow up the bridge—but this wasn’t the time to argue.
“I know you’re Allie the Outcast, but I don’t care. If you do something terrible to me, maybe I deserve it anyway.”
But Allie just took the girl into her arms and held her. Allie never considered herself the motherly type, but this girl needed someone to comfort her from the things she had seen, and maybe the things she had done.
“What’s your name?” Allie asked.
“They call me Lacey.”
Allie could see why. Her shoelaces were untied and must have been that way since arriving in Everlost.
“What happened here, Lacey?”
Lacey closed her eyes. “He told us to do it.”
Although Allie already knew the answer, she had to ask, “Who told you?”
“Milos,” she said. Now it was Allie’s turn to close her eyes and swallow the news. To think that once, she had trusted him. To think that once, she had even been attracted to him. But how could she know way back then, that this type of darkness was lurking inside his heart? How could she know he could become a . . . She couldn’t even say the word. So, holding on to Lacey almost as desperately as Lacey held on to her, Allie asked, “Why?”
“Because we need more,” Lacey said. “More and more and more. That’s what he says.”
“More what?”
And for the first time, Lacey looked her right in the eyes, as if trying to read something there. “More of us,” she said. “More Afterlights. They don’t glow like Afterlights—not yet anyway—but they will once they wake up.”
When the truth hit Allie, it hit with force enough to pound her halfway to the center of the earth, and it might have too, if she wasn’t standing on a deadspot.
More Afterlights . . .
Now it all made sense in a horrible, twisted way.
“Milos and Moose and Squirrel make them cross, then we’re supposed to grab them before they disappear,” Lacey told Allie. “We grab them, and hold them, and then they fall asleep—but I don’t think it’s right.”
