Everlost (Skinjacker 1)

Allie knew all about Atlantic City. It was the Las Vegas of the East Coast:

dozens of hotels and casinos, a boardwalk full of fudge and saltwater taffy shops. “Why would the McGill be afraid of a place like that?”

“He was defeated there,” Pinhead told her. “It happened at the Steel Pier. See, there are two amusement piers in Atlantic City that burned down years ago, and crossed over into Everlost. The Steel Pier, and the Steeplechase Pier. They became a hangout for ‘The Twin Pier Marauders,’ a gang of really rough Afterlights—probably the nastiest gang there is. Anyway, the McGill raided them twenty years ago, and they fought back. It was a terrible battle, and in the end, they had hurled the McGill’s entire crew into the sea, and captured the McGill.”

“Captured him?”

Pinhead nodded. “They took him to the Steeplechase Pier, and chained him upside down from his feet to the parachute-drop ride, and up and down he went every thirty seconds for four years…until one of the Marauders turned traitor, and set him free.”

ugh nothing about the McGill’s horrible face had changed since he began his tale, Allie could swear he somehow looked different. “Why did you tell me this?”

Allie asked.

The McGill shrugged. “I thought you should know. I thought you deserved a little bit of truth in return for all your help.”

And although the picture the McGill painted was not a pretty one, it somehow made Allie feel a bit better. A bit less in the dark. “Thank you,” she said.

“That was very thoughtful.”

The McGill lifted his head. “Thoughtful…Do you think maybe it was selfless?”

Allie nodded. “Yes, I think it was.”

The McGill smiled wide enough to show his rotten gums. “The answer was found when the question was forgotten, just as the fortune cookie said.”

“Fortune cookie?” asked Allie. “What do you mean?”

But the McGill ignored her. “I’ve achieved the selfless act,” the McGill said.

“I’m ready for step four.”

Allie dug through what writings of Mary’s she could find, until she discovered the entry on fortune cookies — how they were evil, flesh-rotting little pastries, and should be avoided like nuclear waste. If Mary was frightened enough of fortune cookies to ban them, Allie knew there must be something important about them.

Allie sought out Pinhead. He was down in the mess hall with the rest of the crew, who were all entertaining themselves with the same games they played over and over again. They flipped and traded old baseball cards from long-dead players. They argued over who was cheating in checkers. As in Mary’s world, these crew members, if not rousted from their games by the McGill, would sit in their eternal ruts, and get into the same fights over and over again. Remember that, Allie told herself. Don’t let your guard down. Don’t let yourself fall into routine again.

When the crew saw her enter the mess hall, either they ignored her, or they scowled at her. She was not well loved among the crew. Mostly they resented the fact that she had found the McGill’s favor, where they had not. Still, they had to grudgingly admit that since she had been on board, their situation had improved. The McGill was distracted and was far less demanding of them now.

Pinhead, more than any of the others, understood the value of having Allie aboard. At first she had thought he’d be resentful the way Vari had been resentful of Nick, but since Pinhead was often the scapegoat for the McGill’s anger when things didn’t go his way, Allie was a bit of a savior to Pinhead. She could hardly call him a friend, but neither was he an enemy. One thing Allie was certain of: He had more brains than his small head would suggest, and was pretty much the glue that held things together around the Sulphur Queen.

Pinhead stood in a corner acting as referee for two other young crewmembers who were playing the flinching game—the one where you slap each others hands, and get a free slap if your opponent flinches.

“Tell me about fortune cookies,” she said. He immediately left the two flinchers to their game, and took Allie aside, sitting down with her at a table where they could talk without being overheard.

“What do you want to know?” Pinhead asked.

“Mary Hightower says they’re evil. Is that true?”

Pinhead laughed. “Mary must have had a bad fortune.”

“So tell me the truth.”

Pinhead looked around as if it was some big secret, then said quietly, “Fortune cookies all cross over.”

Allie took a moment to process that. “What do you mean all?”

“I mean all. Every single fortune cookie that was ever made anywhere in the world crosses into Everlost. Living people might break them open, but the ghosts of all those cookies cross over, unbroken, just waiting for some Afterlight to find them.”

“Interesting,” Allie said, “but why is that such a big deal?”