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One by one, Jackin’ Jill had teased out the real names of Mary’s new skinjackers—even though Mary had insisted they all take on nicknames to keep their identities secret. Mary was shrewd, but Jill was far more cunning, and she was already feeling the thrill of the hunt—a different kind of hunt, but, in its own way, rewarding. She knew who they all were within a few days, and then she memorized their names, knowing that even if she found a way to write them down, she could not take the list with her when she skinjacked.

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Now all that remained was getting the information to Allie. Jill hated the fact that she was on Allie’s side now, and she had to remind herself that she was on nobody’s side but her own. This next part turned out to be harder than finding out their names. There simply was no way for Jill to sneak off and send the information to Allie. She was under the constant scrutiny of Rotsie and the other skinjackers. She couldn’t get away from Mary’s structured little world without raising suspicion. Finally she came up with a plan.

“These skinjackers are pathetic,” she told Mary. “They need more training, or they’ll be useless—and they need more skills to make up for the loss of Milos.”

Mary, who was preparing to march west from Odessa with her horde, was aggravated by anything that might delay them. “You’ll train them as we go,” she told Jill.

“How? There’s nothing west of Odessa for miles. We need fleshies to train them, and the only fleshies around are in this town.”

Finally Mary relented, allowing them a training day, and the next morning they went to downtown Odessa.

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Although Moose and Jill were the most skilled skinjackers among them, Rotsie insisted on taking charge. “We’ll practice soul surfing,” Rotsie said, “and increase the distance we can jump.”

“You can do that, but I want to teach partialing.”

“What’s that?” Rotsie asked.

Jill gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Don’t you know anything? It’s when you take over just a part of a fleshie. A mouth, or a leg, or an arm.”

“What good is that?”

“Sometimes it’s all you need, and it’s faster when you’re in a hurry, moron!”

Then he grabbed her wrist angrily. It would have hurt if they were skinjacking. “I am your superior,” Rotsie said. “You will treat me with respect.”

Jill saw all the other skinjackers, including Moose, looking at her to see what she would do. A battle of wills would not help the situation, so she gave him a salute, just exaggerated enough to be defiant, but just real enough for him to have to accept it. Then she made a mental note to list his name in all caps for Allie, so she’d go after him first.

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Rotsie and Moose went off with the four kids who had the most trouble soul-surfing, and left Jill with the boy who always raised his hand, earning him the nickname “The Teacher’s Pet,” or just “The Pet,” and a Korean kid they called “Seoul-Soul,” but that quickly became “SoSo.”

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The problem with having these two was that they were too focused. As Jill explained partialing, they watched, and listened, and Jill suspected they would constantly be peeling out of their practice hosts, seeking her approval. What she needed were a few solid moments with nobody watching her.

“We need to get out of the street,” Jill told them, “and find a place where people aren’t moving so much.” She looked down a row of shops, and said, “There—that gift shop. It’s the perfect place.”

But The Pet raised his hand. “Uh, excuse me, but won’t it be easier if people are sitting down? Like maybe in the Starbucks next door?”

“Why would I want to make it easier?”

They walked right through the glass front of the gift shop, a store full of china figurines, and leftover Christmas decorations at half price. The floor was thin, and they had to struggle to keep themselves from sinking. Jill pointed to two fleshies in line. “Half-jack those two,” she told them. “Hide behind their minds without taking them over, then focus on one hand, and make that hand take something and slip it into their pocket without them knowing.”

“That’s shoplifting,” said The Pet.

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“Are you a skinjacker or aren’t you?” snapped Jill.

“I hate to tell you this,” said SoSo, “but I stink at half-jacking. Most of the time they know I’m there, and they freak out.”

“Practice makes perfect,” said Jill. “Now do it before you sink!”

SoSo looked at the fleshie, clenched his fists, and leaped inside. The Pet did the same to his fleshie, and both disappeared.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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