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With Mary present to witness, the skinjackers hurled Jill into the pig, and surrounded it. Each time she tried to escape, they hurled her back in until she was too exhausted to peel out anymore. After a day, when it was clear that Jill was bound to the sow for the rest of the animal’s days, they left her there alone, except for the male pigs in the next pen, longing for the day they got to keep her company.
After Jill’s sentence was carried out, Mary brought her remaining skinjackers together for a solemn meeting in the café that had crossed. Rotsie was not with them, because Mary had already sent him off in search of Allie’s body. Sparkles was appointed the temporary leader of the skinjackers, because she had been the head of her cheer squad, and some leadership experience was better than none at all.
In the café they sipped the last of the crossed coffee, and shared a piece of cherry pie that had also crossed. There was a sense of despair among them—the accusations Jill had made had clearly chipped away at their confidence. Mary knew a decision had to be made. She had done her best to shield them from the difficult work ahead. Perhaps that had been wrong. Perhaps her skinjackers needed to know the full extent of what they had been called on to do. She couldn’t deny that she feared this moment . . . because although she had unshakable faith in herself, she did not have such faith in those around her. Jill had turned on her—she couldn’t assume that everyone would share her vision.
Before Mary could speak, The Pet raised his hand like a good schoolboy, and asked, “Is it true the things that Jill said? That you did those things on purpose?”
o;Sorry,” said Rotsie, “but I think I’m better equipped to handle something like this.”
“Yeah, right,” said Jill dismissively, then turned back to Mary. “Even if you wanted to send him, you couldn’t—you need Damon to lead the group, don’t you?”
And suddenly Mary saw Jill in an entirely new light. “Indeed, I do need Damon,” she said, keeping her eyes tightly trained on Jill. “I didn’t know you knew Rotsie’s real name. How ever did you come across it?”
Jill opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Then The Pet politely raised his hand and said, “We told her our names. She said it was important in case we ever forgot it, that someone should know.”
Mary offered a smile that was anything but pleasant. “I wonder why you would say that, Jill, when you know that skinjackers don’t forget their names like other Afterlights.”
“You’re . . . you’re blowing this all out of proportion,” Jill said, looking more and more worried.
“Do you know that I never knew Milos’s and Moose’s real names? I never felt a need. But I’ll bet you knew their names, didn’t you, Jill?” This time Jill said nothing. As far as Mary was concerned, her silence convicted her.
“I will ask you this once,” Mary said. “And your answer will determine how you will be dealt with.” She paused, letting the severity of the situation sink in, then she asked, “Did you give Allie the names of my skinjackers?”
“You had Milos flip that boat and sent more than fifty kids down!” Jill accused.
Mary did not lose her cool. “Did you give Allie their names?”
She looked to support from the other skinjackers. “The tanker truck today was no accident either! Ask her!”
Mary couldn’t tell if Jill’s accusations rattled the others, because she wouldn’t take her eyes off of Jill. “Answer the question,” Mary asked calmly, then she waited, knowing that every criminal, if given enough time, will confess. Jill was no exception.
“Yes,” Jill said, in arrogant defiance. “And now that she knows who they are, she’ll pick them off one by one until you have no skinjackers left.”
So there it was: proof positive that Jill was a traitor. Well, if Jill’s accusations had won any points with the skinjackers, she had lost them now.
“Treason,” said Mary, “is the highest crime in any civilized society. I will try to treat you with compassion . . . but it will be difficult, even for me, to show you mercy.”
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