"Is there a hurry? No!" said Milos. "And it is a beautiful time of year. I see no problem in walking." "Yeah, yeah, but what about Jackin' Jill?" said Squirrel. "We still gotta find her and teach her a lesson."
"We will find her when we find her," Milos said. "A few days won't make a difference." Allie couldn't help but notice how he bristled at the mention of her name. Milos then looked to the highway. "We shall travel on the interstate--it will take us straight there."
Squirrel shuffled his feet, and Moose just looked down, slowly shaking his head.
"If you have a problem with this, then leave," Milos said to them sternly. He looked around, then pointed at a car just arriving in the Burger King lot. "There--a man and a woman in a Miata. Be my guest." He gave them an elaborate but annoyed gesture. Moose and Squirrel didn't move.
"No?" said Milos. "Then you will both kindly close your mouths, and accompany our friends to Memphis." He turned his back on them and strode off toward the interstate.
Moose looked at Squirrel, and Squirrel hit him on the helmet. "What are you looking at, huh, huh?" He followed Milos, and Moose lumbered off behind him, all shoulder pads and shame.
Allie turned to Mikey. "Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there and sink?"
"Of course I'm coming." Mikey pulled his feet out of the ground, and the two of them headed off after the others.
"You should thank Milos," Allie said. "He just stood up for you."
But Mikey clearly wasn't in a thanking mood.
Mikey McGill had been in Everlost for a very long time, and had experienced a great many things. He had captained a ship, he had sunk to the center of the earth, and climbed back again, he had been a boy, a monster, and a boy once again. He had amassed a fortune of crossed objects, and had lost that fortune as well. He had endured. Yet through all of it, no experience was as confusing and unreasonable as the experience of love. He had denied for the longest time that he loved Allie. He had told himself their relationship was of no great consequence--that he was merely grateful to her for having saved him from being a monster. He had told himself that their companionship was merely a useful arrangement, while he considered what to do next.
All of these were lies.
The fact was, he loved Allie so intensely it frightened him. There were times when he looked at her that his own afterglow mellowed from pale blue to almost lavender. He realized that love must have its own spectral shade, and wondered if Allie ever noticed it.
His own reaction to Milos caught Mikey off guard. When he was the McGill no one dared challenge Mikey's authority. He ruled supreme. Although things were different since teaming up with Allie, in all this time, no one had penetrated the little circle he and Allie had made. The two of them were always on the move--other Afterlights they met passed in and out of view like the scenery.
Now, however, their circle had become an unpleasant fellowship of five. It wasn't Moose and Squirrel that troubled Mikey. Milos was the threat. Milos, and his easy smile, and his exotic accent, and the wispy hint of facial hair that might have been a beard had he lived a year longer. Allie called him charming--and although Mikey knew she had said it just to tease him, it did more than that. It goaded him. It taunted him. Mikey had no idea whether or not Milos was a good spirit, or bad, all he knew was that he hated Milos for simply existing.
For two days as they walked along Interstate 81, and then Interstate 40, nobody skinjacked. This was by Milos's decree--out of respect for Mikey, so he said. By twilight of the second day, Moose and Squirrel were itching for it. Mikey could tell that Allie was too. As they rested on a set of deadspots, beneath what must have been a particularly lethal overpass, Mikey could see Allie's restlessness.
"You weren't like this before," Mikey said to Allie as they sat on a spot a dozen yards away from the others. "You never needed to skinjack."
Allie didn't answer right away, but she didn't shrug it off either.
"I've been skinjacking more lately," she finally said, "and the more you skinjack, the more you need to. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't."
"Do you want to be like them?" he asked her, pointing to Moose and Squirrel, who were twitchy and irritable, like drug addicts needing a fix.
"I'll never be like them," Allie said, although she didn't seem too confident. "And anyway, once we get to Memphis, they'll go their way, and we'll go ours."
"And which way is that?"
Again, Allie didn't have an answer for him. This wasn't like her--Allie tended to have an answer for everything, even if it was wrong. "Everything's changed now," Allie said, although she didn't say why.
"I know what'll happen," Mikey said. "You'll see your family, and you'll take your coin and go. I know you will."
She sighed. "Trust me, I won't. And anyway, you were the one who brought me to Cape May to find my family, weren't you?"
She was right about that. Mikey shrugged. "So? I was trying to do the right thing. The human thing. But maybe I don't want to do the right thing anymore." He couldn't look at her as he said it, and he thought she'd be mad at him and launch into a long speech about the virtues of human compassion and thinking of others before yourself.
But instead she smiled and said, "I'll make you a promise, Mikey. I promise that I'll always be here for you ... and I promise not to move on ... until you do." Then she leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
He hoped she didn't notice the slight lavender blush of his afterglow.
Allie had, in fact, noticed the faint color shift in Mikey's afterglow several times before, and although she was usually quite smart about things, she missed all the cues on this one. She simply assumed it was some sort of remnant from his life as the McGill--the equivalent of a living-world scar that ached with changes in the weather. After all they'd been through, she cared for Mikey deeply--not as a boyfriend, though, because that was a living-world concept, and in the living world, boyfriends come and go. A hand held today would be slapping a face tomorrow. Mikey wasn't like a brother to her either. Nick was the one she saw as a brother; connected forever, born into Everlost at the same moment, like ghostly twins.
What was Mikey, then? A soul mate? Perhaps. She couldn't deny there was a sense of comfort in their relationship. They were perfect companions--a good fit for each other. Just being with him gave her a feeling of peace and belonging, but it lacked ... excitement.
Sure, from time to time, when the moment called for it, she would kiss him, but an Everlost kiss was not the same as a living kiss. There was no heat to it, no beating heart, no adrenaline rush. There can be no way to find oneself breathless when one doesn't really need to breathe. In the end, companions are all two Afterlights can ever be.