Allie smiled right back. “Well, it was worth a try.” She knew that Milos was vain and self-serving—and that his conscience only went as far as it met his needs—but he did have a moral code, if you could call it that. He was a man of his word. Odd that Allie felt she could trust him after all the terrible things she had seen him do.

“I see lots of things from the front of this train,” Allie said. “Things that the rest of you don’t see.” She paused, stretching it out, making them wait for it. Then she said, “I saw something when the train entered this valley—about a mile back.”

“What did you see?” asked Milos.

“If you’re not going to untie me,” Allie told him, “you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself.”

“Very well,” said Milos. “We are in no hurry to leave anyway. We’ll figure out our own way around it.” Then he looked at the blank white face of the church before them. “In the meantime, enjoy the view.”

Milos stormed away from Allie, refusing to be manipulated by her. She was the prisoner, not him—although more and more he felt like his own hands were tied. Around him dozens of Mary’s children had already come out of the train. Some played hide-and-seek, or tag—always moving fast enough to keep from sinking into the living world. There were girls on the roofs of the train cars playing jump rope, and kids beneath the wheels, playing cards—as if they knew they would be stuck here for days, maybe even weeks. In fact, they had come to expect it.

Of course, they could always leave the train and continue on foot, but Milos decided long ago that it would not be wise. The train was a fortress for them. It could protect them against whatever they came across—and although they had not seen a single Afterlight since crossing the Mississippi, it didn’t mean they weren’t there.

In the weeks since commandeering the train, Mary’s Afterlights had all settled into their own comfort zones, and the rail car population divided along predictable lines—or at least predictable by Everlost standards. There was an all-girls car, and an all-boys car, for those who bonded strictly along gender lines. There were a few “insomnoid” cars for souls who chose to give up sleep entirely, since slumber was optional for Afterlights. There was a car for sports-minded Afterlights who ran from the train each time it stopped, to play one ball game or another, and a car for those kids whose repetitive daily routines involved quiet, indoor activities—and of course the “sleeping” car, and the “prison” car—both of which served their own unique purposes.