making it through the day in one piece. That, and having a good laugh. Lately, however, there wasn’t much laughter and he had been trying to convince Moose it was time for both of them to bail. After today, they might have done it too.
But today, Squirrel was touched by a scar wraith.
The power of belief is a very real thing in Everlost. The way one looks, physical strength, is all determined by what an Afterlight believes-and no one can truly control what they believe. We can lie to ourselves, saying we believe one thing, and sometimes we convince others it’s true, with the hope that by convincing others, we can convince ourselves. Wars are often waged not because of what we believe, but because of the things we want others to believe.
Squirrel was not sure of any of his beliefs. He was not so deep that he pondered such things. But when Clarence reached for him with a hand that was clearly a part of Everlost, attached to a body that clearly was not, Squirrel, in the furthest recesses of his soul, believed that the touch of a scar wraith would extinguish him forever and ever.
So that’s exactly what it did.
To those watching, it was undramatic and instantaneous. Clarence grasped on to Squirrel’s shoulder, Squirrel uttered the tiniest little squeal… and then he was gone.
No tunnel.
No shimmer of rainbow light.
One moment he was there, and the next he wasn’t. He simply dissolved into nothingness. Extinguished.
Clarence was thrown off balance by Squirrel’s unexpected vanishing act, and Milos, forgetting his resolve to stand against the scar wraith, turned and ran in terror, skinjacking the first fleshie to cross his path.
Clarence didn’t bother with Milos. He was more concerned with the spirit who had disappeared at his touch.
“Where’d he go?” Clarence asked. “Is this another ghostie trick?”
Mikey shook his head, not wanting to believe it. There was a stirring in his soul now, building toward pain-the kind of pain the living felt. “No trick, Clarence.”
“So, where did he go?”
“Nowhere,” Mikey sadly told him. “He went nowhere.”
CHAPTER 28
The Tears of Eternity
T he very fabric of the universe mourns the extinguishing of a soul-both in Everlost and the living world. If Squirrel had still been there to see it, he would have been proud, maybe even a bit embarrassed, to see the tribute paid to his memory by all of creation.
In Nevada, an unprecedented thunderstorm formed where none should have been, pouring forth a deluge of water, salty as tears, on the parched earth below.
In Africa, a seven-point-five earthquake rumbled like a heaving sob through the vast Serengeti, a place where no fault line existed before.
In Brazil, a furious tornado cut a path from one edge of the nation to the other, with not a single storm cloud anywhere in the sky.
And ninety-three million miles away, the sun itself fell into sorrow, inexplicably dimming by one hundredth of one percent, henceforth and forever.
Of course such events have never been seen by human eyes, because a true extinguishing has never happened in the history of human life on earth.
Until now.
In the living world, these impossible events would be seen as signs-although no one would agree as to what they were signs of. Global warming? The Second Coming? Solar collapse? Armageddon? The living would come up with endless theories to argue, because the living were exceptionally good at arguing, especially when no one knew the answer.
In Everlost, however, the effect of a mourning universe was very simple and very clear. It was a silent wail that echoed through every soul, culminating in a powerful twinge of pain-yes, pain-deep in every Afterlight’s gut. And with that pain came a sudden awareness that something undoable, something irreparable had occurred.
Awareness.
Few things are more powerful than awareness, and it resonated within the sleeping, dreamless souls of all spirits in transition between the living world and Everlost. The sudden spark touched every Interlight regardless of how long they had slept, and jarred them all back to premature consciousness. It was a Great Awakening borne from one of the most profound pangs of mourning ever to be felt by the universe.
The Interlights in Milos’s bank vault all sat up, wondering where they were, and how they got there.
The Interlights in the arms of the Neon Warriors, who had left the Alamo that very morning, were suddenly walking on their own two feet, and asking lots of questions.
And in a glass coffin, a girl dressed in glorious green opened her eyes and smiled.
“Well, now,” she said to herself. “Let’s see what I’ve missed and what still needs to be done.”
… While in a lonely chamber deep beneath the Alamo, a Wurlitzer jukebox, without coin or question, began to play ‘Eve of Destruction.’”
PART FOUR
Mary Rising
High Altitude Musical Interlude #3 with Johnnie and Charlie
L ondon Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down…”
Sing-alongs, Johnnie-O had decided, were invented by the darkest forces of evil as hell’s ultimate horror.
“ London Bridge is falling down…”
Johnnie was convinced that whatever memory of a brain he had, had been eaten by big fat everworms, and all that remained were the ghosts of swiss cheese holes.
“… my fair lady!”
And maybe cobwebs.
There was no telling how many journeys they had made around the world. Now, thanks to the gravitational tweak the giant deadspot had given them, each revolution left them a few hundred miles farther south. They were spiraling toward the equator. Eventually they would pass it, and wind up spinning in circles at the south pole.
“ Take the keys and lock her up, lock her up, lock her up…”
With no contact from any of their friends on the ground since that fateful day Mary attacked the train, they had no way of knowing who had won that battle. They could only hope that their sacrifice was not for naught.
“ Take the keys and lock her up…”
For many weeks now, looking out of the windows had provided no solace. Deadspots were few and far between, and the sight of them was nothing more than a cruel tease from a cold world.
“… my fair lady!”
Yet even with his Swiss-cheese, cobwebbed, empty head, Johnnie-O still didn’t reach the same absolute mindless, happy, sing-along stupor that Charlie had found.
“It’s gotta mean something, don’t it, Charlie? The fact that I’m not a complete blithering idiot like you?”
Charlie’s answer was just a vacant smile, and another verse.
… But halfway through that verse, a shadow swept across the bulkhead.
