Everfound

There was something—run run—very wrong, however. She could tell within an instant of furjacking the coyote. It wasn’t just that she didn’t like it—somehow her spirit was at odds with the animal. As if she were—pant, pant—somehow allergic. Could that be possible?

She wanted to—run!—stay, to make sure that Mary had sunk, but the coyote’s instincts grated so coarsely against her own—sniff-scratch-sniff—she couldn’t think clearly. The smells were so—sniff sniff—powerful it confused her thoughts. Why was she here? Who was she? She found herself darting back and forth, turning in circles, disgusted by her own dog breath. Her ability to—run-howl-run—think clearly had been—food-food—smashed by the scents and sounds assaulting the—sniff-listen-sniff—coyote’s senses, then a rabbit—chase!—scurried through—chase!—the underbrush—go!—and she found herself—food!—racing after it—catch!—in pursuit—chase!—unable to control herself—food!—and she knew—catch!—that she—food!—was in serious—eat!—serious—eat!—trouble. . . .

Back in Everlost, the Neon Nightmares, as they called themselves, were begi

“We don’t got any,” said one of the faces in the mass of packed kids. “Could you close the door, please?”

Now the invader was truly confused.

“But . . . but . . . you’re sinking! Don’t you want us to drag you out so you can beg for mercy?”

“Not really,” said another face.

“We’re quite comfortable, actually,” said another. “Please close the door.”

He had never seen Afterlights reach that state of perfect, imperturbable patience before. It a

Jix knew that what he did now was crucial; he needed to be quick and decisive. He could escape, and take news of all this to His Excellency, but that would be surrendering the prize. The Eastern Witch could not be allowed to sink to the center of the earth.

Most of the Neons were busy going after kids climbing out of train cars, and the ones that tried to go after Jix took one look at his strange coloring—even stranger than their bright war paint—and they backed off. He hurried toward the mansion, where the parlor car still sat on its roof, and called out to Jill.

“I need the combination!” he shouted.

Jill looked down at him, surprised, maybe even pleased to see him still aboveground. “Forget Mary!” she said. “She’s done for—climb up here with us!”

“The combination!” he insisted. “Hurry.”

Jill sighed. “Thirty-two–nineteen–twenty-eight—but you’re wasting your time!”

He ran off toward the caboose, repeating the numbers in his head.

The caboose lay on its side, already halfway into the earth but the door at the very back of the caboose—the one with the combination lock—was still aboveground. The kids that had been trying to keep the caboose from sinking had either been pulled away by the Neons, or had scattered to save themselves. Using his own afterglow to light the numbers, he spun the lock left, then right, then left again. He tugged. Nothing happened. For a moment he thought that Jill had lied to him, but then on the second tug, the lock came loose. He pried open the sideways door and threw himself inside.

To his surprise, there were already Afterlights in there—about a half dozen of them. They must have climbed in through the skylight, but the skylight was now underground.

“Have you come to join us?” one of them asked.

Mary was still asleep in her unbroken glass coffin—she must have been tossed about by the crash, but these kids had put her back in, smoothing out her hair, keeping her the very image of peace.

“We don’t have very long,” Jix said. “We have to get her out.”

But the kids didn’t move. “Out?” one of them said. “But the maniacs will get her if we take her out.”

“We’re going down with her!” said another, gently rubbing a hand across the glass of the casket. “Then when she wakes up, she’ll tell us what to do.”

Jix roared with such frustration he surprised himself by the force of it. It got their attention. “Do you think she’ll reward you for letting her sink? She’ll hate you! She’ll punish you! Better to be in the arms of the enemy than in the bowels of the earth! Now move!”

They didn’t need a second invitation. They grabbed Mary’s coffin, and, like pallbearers, moved her clumsily toward the door, which was quickly begi

Halfway out the door, the casket got stuck.

“Push!” said Jix, and, already up to his knees in the ground, he put all of his energy into pushing the coffin through, until finally it dislodged from the door and slid out into the night. Jix was right behind it, getting out at the last second.

Then, when he looked back, he saw there was still another boy in there. Jix locked eyes with him. The earth was up to his neck, and the doorway was now only a sliver above the ground. The boy was trapped. Still, Jix reached for him, and grabbed his hand, holding it tight, pulling—but someone wedged that deeply in the living world could not be pulled out, even by a strong Afterlight.

“Save her,” the boy said, before his head sunk under. Even after the boy was completely underground, Jix held on to his hand. It was pulling Jix down too—he was in up to his elbow . . . but then the sinking boy squeezed Jix’s hand to wish him a silent good-bye, and then let go. Jix pulled his hand out of the ground and when he looked up, the caboose was completely gone.

There were few things more humiliating to Milos than being pi

He could see only the smallest glimpses of the battle, but he could hear everything. The shouts of the invaders were so confident, and the cries of Mary’s children were so desperate, he knew they were losing. Then, when he heard Jill shout out the “secret” combination to the caboose, he was glad she actually knew it. He had no idea who was going after Mary, or if they would be able to get her out, but at least now he had hope.

Finally one of the invading Afterlights came up to him. Milos spat his best ecto-loogy at him, not caring what the kid would do in retaliation. The one good thing about being pi

“Give me your coin or else!” said the kid.

“Idi k chertu!” Milos said. It gave Milos a little bit of satisfaction to be able to curse him out in a way he could not understand.

The kid kicked him in frustration. “How come you’re all so useless!?” he yelled. “How come none of you got no coins? We gotta feed him coins or he won’t tell us nothing—don’t you get it?”