"You're sinking," Mikey said.
Laughing, Allie reached out to him. He took her hand gently but firmly, and eased her out of the ground.
They left, but as they did, Allie couldn't help but look back toward the deliveryman, who was now heading back to his truck. She couldn't deny how much she enjoyed the lingering sensation of flesh. Each time she skinjacked, it felt more and more seductive. In her book Caution, This Means You, Mary Hightower has this to say about the Everwild:
"Finders who survive excursions into the untamed corners of Everlost tell stories of things strange, mystical, and dangerous. Whether or not these stories of the Everwild are true do not matter to the sensible Afterlight, for all sensible Afterlights know that it's best to leave the wild wild, and the Unknown unknown. Venturing beyond one's personal zone of safety is always ill-advised, and can only end in profound unpleasantness."
It is important to note that Mary wrote this before she, herself, took to the skies.
Chapter 5 Southern Discomfort
Nick had never seen a city with so many deadspots. They were so numerous that they could hardly be called deadspots at all. The city of Atlanta belonged as much to Everlost as it did to the living world. The streets were part cobblestone, part asphalt, part dirt. The night was lit by just as many gas lamps as modern street-lights. Buildings from multiple time periods seemed to occupy the same space, fighting to claim "dominant reality." It made it very clear to Nick that as much as he thought he knew and understood Everlost, he barely knew anything at all.
Their train slowly, cautiously rolled forward on tracks that once carried the Civil War dead. Then, as the train neared the center of Atlanta, the living world road began to fill the train like an asphalt river.
"We're sinking!" shouted Johnnie-O. "We're sinking into the earth! Stop the train!"
"I don't think that's it," said Charlie. "It's more like the street's rising. We're still riding on tracks."
"I have a feeling we're in for a few more surprises," said Nick. * * *
Long ago, when the battle between locomotive and automobile came to Atlanta, the city was caught in a dilemma. Atlanta, being the chief railroad city of the south, had so many trains, there was simply no room for cars. Then the city planners had a brilliant idea. The words "brilliant" and "city planning" usually don't go together. However, in this instance, the solution was not only brilliant, it was elegant.
Why not build roads above the train tracks?
And so by building automobile viaducts above the central railroad gulch, the city of Atlanta was effectively raised almost twenty feet. The first floor of every building was now underground--and second floors became the new ground floors. Then, as cars took over, and rail lines closed down, those old subterranean storefronts were forgotten. Thus was born underground Atlanta--and although modern business interests have turned parts of it into a mall, the real Atlanta underground belongs to Everlost.
The train rolled down the underground street in near darkness, but then the faint, pale blue glow of Afterlights began to fill the street around them. Afterlights were quite literally coming out of the woodwork--not dozens, but hundreds, and, like the buildings around them, these kids were from every era in history. Some held bricks, others metal pipes or bats--but one thing was clear--every single one of them was armed and prepared for a fight.
"Sticks and stones can't break my bones," said Johnnie-O, reciting the familiar Everlost rhyme.
"But names can always hurt me," finished Nick. True enough, because an Everlost name can define you, and not always for the better. "It's not the sticks and stones I'm worried about," Nick said. "It's that look in their eyes."
Nick could see the intensity of their stares. It was a look that spoke of first strikes against intruders. These kids had a communal instinct for self-preservation that left no room for compassion.
"If they want a fight, they'll get one," said Johnnie-O.
Charlie looked at him, worried, and Nick gripped Charlie's shoulder to ease his mind, leaving behind a brown handprint. Johnnie-O might think with his fists, but Nick knew better than to provoke a fight here. More and more kids flooded the street around them. Then, when it seemed that every Afterlight in Atlanta had come out of hiding, Nick said, "Stop the train."
Charlie turned to him, and Nick swore that his afterglow grew a little pale. "You're kidding, right?"
"Dead serious."
Charlie gripped the brake lever, but made no move to stop the train, for his fear would not allow it. "But look-- they're keeping out of our way. If we just keep moving, we'll make it through, doncha think?"
"Who says I want to make it through?"
Charlie shook his head, as if trying to shake off the thought. "You can't be thinking of giving them all coins! There's not enough in the world!"
But that wasn't true; the bucket was never empty. Still, it wouldn't be a good idea to start making kids disappear. The mob would get confused and frightened. The mob would attack. Nick, however, had another reason for making a pit stop here. "Trust me," Nick said, although he wasn't really sure he trusted himself. Still, Charlie sighed and pulled on the brake. The steam engine came to a wheezing, shuddering halt.
"Now what?" asked Johnnie-O.
Nick reached for the door. "I'll be right back."
Johnnie-O stepped in front of him. "I'm going with you."
"No ... . Your hands might scare them."