“Which way?” Mikey asked. It was part of Allie’s job to check maps when she skinjacked, and navigate their course. She already knew that they needed to go to the left, and yet she said, “I don’t know, I’ll have to check.”

Mikey grunted his disapproval, but Allie ignored him as she dismounted. There was a small boat dock in front of them, and a few hundred yards away, a convenience store and gas station. Needless to say, she had no intention of checking a map. This skinjacking would serve an entirely different purpose, and as Allie made her way toward the convenience store, she hoped she hadn’t missed the worst of the rain.

In the store was a tattooed man buying beer. He was a skinjacking possibility, but only as a last resort. The cashier was a tired-looking old woman, whose joints were probably already aching from the weather, and wouldn’t appreciate being thrust out into the rain. Allie was beginning to fear she’d have to settle for the tattooed guy, but then a woman hurried inside, wearing one of those hideous plastic rain ponchos the color of a traffic cone.

“Wet enough for ya, Wanda?” said the old woman behind the counter.

“Don’t mind it; seen worse,” Wanda said.

“I hear ya!”

Allie had no idea what had brought Wanda to a convenience store in this weather, but frankly she didn’t care. Allie stepped inside her without a second thought, sliding in smooth and easy.

—Rolling rolling—how long them dogs been rolling—long enough to give me gas—or worse—I shouldn’t go near those things, no sir—

She experienced the usual moment of disorientation, filled with the static of Wanda’s thoughts, and then Allie flipped that mental switch that sent Wanda off to dreamland. Instantly Allie knew why Wanda was here. She was hungry—famished—it seemed fleshies were always hungry, and Allie liked it that way!

Now in complete control of the woman, Allie looked toward the hot dogs rolling on the stainless steel poles of the industrial cooker. She had already been thinking about them, hadn’t she?

“I’ll have a cheese dog, please,” Allie said.

The old woman was happy to oblige. “How’s Sam these days?”

“Fine, fine,” said Allie—and getting bold, she added, “You know Sam—I can’t pry him away from the TV.”

The old woman laughed. “So he watches television now?”

“Uh … yeah. Well, weekends mostly. You know—the games.”

The old woman laughed. “Don’t that beat all, a dog that watches sports!”

Allie felt her borrowed face flush, and she decided that less is more when it came to living-world conversation. She thanked the woman for the hot dog, paid with some cash from her purse, and downed the hot dog in three bites. Then she headed outside to the main event.

The rain!