else. Is it any good?”
Milo laughed. “Um, no. It’s shit for the most part, maybe IC’s first bad show. You can totally tell they’re making crap up as they go. Everything is either sorta stupid or completely stupid.” Milo smiled, bigger and more genuine than anything Alex had seen on his face since before Alex’s father brought a loaded gun to school and showed everyone he knew how to use it.
“Our shit is much better.” Milo went over to his backpack, unzipped it, pulled out a small card, then handed it to Alex.
“What’s this?” Alex asked, looking down at the card. It read, Raconteur, MiloAlex1234.
“It’s the app you need, and the password to use it.”
“For what?” Alex kept staring at the card, trying to figure out what Milo was trying to say.
“To finish The Atrium Divided! ”
Alex finally smiled back. “You still want to finish that?”
“Of course!” Milo held his grin. “I’ve already fleshed out a bunch of the scenes. Now it just needs some Alex magic. And Raconteur is this AWESOME writing software I found, collaborative shit, so we can write together. Just download it, enter that password, then we can work on it at the same time, or one after the other. It doesn’t matter. You’ll see once you log on.”
That did sound awesome, and Alex wanted to know more about it, but before he could ask Milo anything else, his mom descended the stairs, wiping her brow as if exhausted. “OK, she’s finally down. Oh, hi, Milo!”
“Hi, Mrs. Heller,” he said, sheepishly looking at his feet. “Just came by to say goodbye to everyone.”
“How about I make us all some lunch?”
“Oh, I dunno, I’ve gotta get back home soon and do … ”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Katie said, grabbing Milo by the hand and giving him a giant smile. Milo flinched as Katie touched him, but she didn’t call attention to it. Alex thought it weird, trading concerned looks with his mom.
She said, “Sit down, Milo. You’re gonna eat with us. We’ll have one last lunch together, just like old times.”
“Just like old times,” Alex repeated, his smile bittersweet, knowing things could never be like old times again. Not without his dad, anyway. But he was leaving the island, so they could at least try to put the past month behind them and play pretend one final time.
**
After lunch, Alex and Katie sat on the porch beside Milo, reminiscing about the old days, while steering clear of conversational land mines such as any mention of Jessica, Manny, or Alex’s dad — the man responsible for both their deaths.
“Any word on Bea?” Alex asked.
“No, OtherMom’s still in the loony bin,” Milo said, scratching at his right arm. “Dad thinks she’ll be there a while.”
“Wow,” Katie said. “I still can’t believe she did that!”
Milo leaned forward, “There’s something I’ve gotta tell you, Alex. Something I’m not sure you’ll necessarily want to hear, but I can’t not tell you.”
“What is it?” Alex said, nervously.
“When I went to that Survivor’s Meeting after your dad’s funeral, one of the teachers, Mrs. Hawthorne, said she saw your dad in a trance, watching the snow on a TV set. She’d called to him a bunch of times before he finally came to, with no idea she’d been trying to get his attention. Weird thing is, that’s the same thing that happened with Bea before she decided to drive through the front of Jordy’s.”
“What are you saying?”
Milo was scratching his right arm more intensely, and Alex wondered what type of rash he had under his long sleeves. “Well, it’s not just your dad and Bea. Other people have been noticing weird shit like this with their families and friends — especially the people who go missing.”
“So, what do you think is happening?” Alex asked, cautiously, like he was speaking to a crazy person. For all he knew, he might be.
“I know how it sounds,” Milo said. “But remember that guy Cody I told you I was gonna