Neal Shusterman - Everwild

He was right about that. But seeing other skinjackers- it had shaken her even more than she realized. "Okay," she said. "We'll fight them." Then she thought about how she had been pushed against the gas pump. "But the football player's mine."

Both Allie and Mikey prepared themselves for the battle, but before it could begin, someone else showed up on the scene. A fleshie came running onto the dock. A teenaged, leather-clad punk with spiky hair that defied the rain. But in an instant the wet spikes resolved into dry curls, and the face became a little less angular. It took a moment for Allie to realize what was happening. A third skinjacker had arrived, and he had just peeled out of his host. He wore a striped T-shirt that was a little too tight for his muscular frame, and he was old by Everlost standards. Seventeen maybe. While the punk-fleshie toddled off in confusion, the third skinjacker grabbed the gangly kid and the football player.

"What do you think you are doing!" he demanded. He had an accent that Allie couldn't quite place at first.

"It's Jackin' Jill!" said the gangly one, weakly.

"Does she look like Jackin' Jill to you?" the third skinjacker said. The accent was definitely Eastern European. If Allie had to guess, she would say it was Russian.

The football player wasn't sure whether to shake his head or to nod, so he did a little bit of both. It made him look like a bobblehead doll. "When we shaw her jack the fat girl back in Virginia, we weren't closhe enough to shee her faish."

"Yeah, Yeah," said the other one, "and when she peeled out we had to hang way back, so we still didn't see her face then, either."

The Russian kid heaved a heavy, resigned sigh, then he turned to Allie and Mikey, apologetically. "This is my fault," he said. "When they told me they found a skinjacker, I told them to keep their eyes on you. Now I realize I should have done it myself." He let go of the other two, and took a step forward. "I am Milos-and you have already met Moose and Squirrel."

He threw an angry look at his cohorts, and Moose pushed Squirrel, nearly launching him off the side of the dock. "It was hish fault!" Squirrel pushed him back, but it wasn't nearly as effective.

"You have some nerve spying on us at all!" Mikey said.

"Please, forgive me," Milos said calmly, "but we have had some… bad experiences, and they thought you were someone else."

"They attacked me," Allie said. "I had to hurt a couple of fleshies because of them." Mikey looked at them, furious, and clenched his fists. "They attacked you?"

"I assure you this will not happen again." The third skinjacker turned to Moose and Squirrel. "Your behavior was unacceptable. Apologize!"

The two looked down like kids in the principal's office.

"Sorry," said Squirrel.

"Yeah, shorry," said Moose.

Allie shook her head. "Sometimes sorry's not enough."

"Then," said Milos with a slight bow, "allow me to make it up to you." He held his hand out in an open-palmed gesture, as if he expected Allie to place her hand in his. She didn't.

"You can make it up to us," said Mikey, "by getting lost."

Milos remained calm and smooth. "But have you not longed for the company of other skinjackers?" he asked Mikey. "Surely we can put all this behind us and start again."

Apparently Milos just assumed that Mikey was also a skinjacker. Mikey didn't say anything to correct him, so Allie kept quiet about it as well.

"We're fine on our own," Mikey said.

Although Allie knew they didn't need Milos's help, and certainly had no desire to spend quality time with Moose and Squirrel, there was something enticing about Milos. He was civilized and sane-she could see it in his eyes-curious eyes that were blue, speckled with white, like a sky dotted with clouds. It would be a relief having another skinjacker to talk to-someone who could understand what it was like. "We're on our way to Memphis," Allie told him, and Mikey looked at her, incredulous.

Milos smiled. "Then allow us to accompany you. At least part of the way."

"No!" said Mikey.

Allie gently took Mikey's hand, holding it to reassure him-and also to make it clear to Milos that the two of them were together in every way that mattered.

"You can travel with us for a little while," Allie said. "I'm Allie. This is Mikey."

Moose gasped. "Allie the Outcasht?"

Mikey grabbed him by his face guard, pulled him close and growled in his face. "That's right. Touch her again and you'll wish you never died."

"Yesh shir," said Moose.

"Now," said Milos, "I suggest we get off this dock before we sink right through it." He gestured for Allie to take the lead, which she did-and although she never let go of Mikey's hand, she couldn't help but appreciate Milos's suave manner. Most of the boys she had met in Everlost were wild to the point of being feral. Allie never considered herself a lady, but for once it was nice to be treated like one. In her book Further Reasons for Caution, Mary Hightower has this to say about roving bands of skinjackers:

"While a single skinjacker is trouble enough, a group of wild skinjackers is a frightening prospect, indeed. These Afterlights caught between two worlds are to be pitied and feared, for the madness of flesh has infected their minds. If word reaches you of skinjackers in your area, it is best for all involved to steer clear of them, and report the sighting to an authority."

While Moose and Squirrel might have been the poster children illustrating Mary's point about "wild skinjackers," they were marginally civilized under Milos's guidance.

"They are not so bad," Milos told Mikey and Allie. "Or should I say, I have seen much worse."

The rain had given way to broken clouds, and they continued to follow the road around the lake. Mikey was sullen, and didn't talk much, and Moose and Squirrel, always lingering a dozen paces behind, snickered over their own private jokes. Milos, however was full of conversation for the newcomers. Allie supposed that, having had no one but Moose and Squirrel to talk to, he was starved for intelligent conversation. Milos told them that they had traveled as a group for several years. The "Deadlies" they called themselves. There were four- Milos, Moose, Squirrel, and a girl they called Jackin' Jill. Jill, however, was gone, and Milos didn't say any more about it. Allie found it all interesting, but Mikey kept making exasperated sounds, as if listening to Milos was like torture.

"Mikey, you're being rude," Allie told him after a particularly loud groan.

"Sorry," said Mikey, although it sounded more like a curse than an apology.

Milos continued the tale of his afterlife, unoffended. As Allie suspected, Milos had come from Russia. "Russian-born, but American-dead," as he put it. His family had moved to America from St. Petersburg. Milos had been hanging out with friends on the roof of his apartment building, and had fallen off.

"It was a stupid way to go," Milos said.

Mikey scoffed. "My sister and I got hit by a train," he said. "We all die in stupid ways, and this is a stupid conversation." He picked up his pace, leaving them, and the conversation, behind. Allie thought to apologize to Milos for Mikey's behavior, but she was tired of making excuses for him. Anyway, Milos was a good sport about it.

"I would have gone into the light if I could," Milos told Allie. "But the light would not take me. It would just keep throwing me back."

This surprised Allie. Not even Mary, in her various volumes on Everlost lore, never mentioned anyone reaching the end of the tunnel, only to be denied admittance.

"Are you sure?" Allie asked. "Maybe you just never reached the light."

"I suppose your friend would say the light didn't like me and spit me out." Allie laughed. "Well, I suppose you're an acquired taste." She looked toward Mikey. He was twenty yards ahead of them, striding with an impatient pace. His hands were in his pockets, his shoulders high, and he looked to the ground. Even when they were together he seemed to be alone in some fundamental way. It saddened her.