“Will you really help me?” asked the Ogre, overjoyed at the prospect.
To Milos he sounded like a very small child, innocent and trusting. This was not the way Allie had ever described Nick—but then, she hadn’t described him as this freak of fudge either. Perhaps some of him was lost in transformation.
“Mikey said she’d be on a train,” the Ogre said.
“Mikey?” said Moose.
“Do you know him?” asked the Ogre.
“Yeah, yeah,” chimed in Squirrel. “He’s . . . uh . . . uh . . . he’s our best friend!”
“Really? He’s mine too!” said the Ogre.
“And a friend of Mikey’s is a friend of ours,” said Milos. Then he added, “Of course, friends do not let other friends stay stuck beneath trains, do they?”
“No,” said the Ogre. “I guess not.”
“And I’ve heard that the Chocolate Ogre is as strong as a hundred Afterlights.”
“You’ve heard that?” The Ogre was a bit confused.
“Of course!” said Milos. “Why, people have seen you lift entire buildings with your bare hands.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really—so lifting a train should be easy for you.”
Milos did not know all the physical laws of Everlost—but he knew that physical strength had nothing to do with muscles. Afterlights had no actual muscles, just the memory of them. In Everlost you are what you remember—and if memory makes the man, perhaps Milos could plant a false memory of superhuman strength within the Chocolate Ogre’s mind. . . .
“I can pick up a train?” the Ogre asked.
“Sure you can! You could juggle train cars if you wanted to.”
“Hmmm. I’d need three to do that.”
Then the Chocolate Ogre knelt down, grunted like a weight lifter, and in one swift move, lifted the train car off of Milos, hoisting it high above his head.
“What should I do with it?” asked the Ogre.
“How far can you throw it?” asked Moose.
“A mile, I’ll bet,” said Squirrel.
The Ogre thought about it. “I don’t think so, but maybe to those bushes over there.” Then he let it go and sure enough, he threw it exactly as far as he believed he could. It landed in a copse of living-world tumbleweeds, scattering the Afterlights who were hiding behind it, then the sleeping car slowly began to sink into the ground.
Now that Milos was free, he took a moment to study the Ogre, looking into those murky eyes sunken into that mess of a face. This once-human creature seemed lost in a fundamental way. Well, thought Milos, finders keepers! Milos reached his arm out and shook the Ogre’s hand heartily. His whole hand was enveloped in chocolate. “My name is Milos. This is Moose and Squirrel. You are one of us now.”
“I’m . . . I’m . . .” The Ogre searched his thoughts and finally said, “I’m Nick.”
When Milos pulled back his hand, it was covered in chocolate. In a world where food was rarely seen, the sight of chocolate was tempting. He didn’t need to eat—no one in Everlost needed to eat, but that didn’t stop the craving for food—especially something as uniquely satisfying as a taste of chocolate. Milos couldn’t help himself. He licked the chocolate from his hand, and it was absolutely delicious! No wonder the Ogre was able to gather followers. He may not have had Mary’s beauty or vision, but he was a virtual fountain of the thing kids most wanted!
Milos turned and called out to the brush around him. “Come out, all of you!” he said. “The Chocolate Ogre is on our side now. He’s going to help us.”
Bit by bit, the frightened Afterlights cautiously came out of hiding.
“Come see what he has for you,” Milos said. “It is a peace offering and he gives it freely!”
They came forward, and dozens upon dozens of hands reached toward the Ogre, touching his shoulder, his arm, and even his face, taking little bits of him away. One taste of the chocolate was enough to win most of them over.