Disney in Shadow (17 page)

The second rover slowed, turned and returned to join the other. “Source of anomaly?” He had the
exact
same voice.

“Unknown. Presumed human.”

“No visual. Do you copy?”

“Copy.”

“Errant signal. Will file at conclusion of patrol.”

“Copy.”

The two rovers spun in unison and motored off past Mexico, growing ever smaller.

“That was…bizarre,” Maybeck said.

“Overtakers.”

“Ah…Duh! For as smart as you are, sometimes you can say the dumbest things.”

“Test Track dummies.”

“But they can
speak
,” Maybeck said.

“I kind of noticed that. I suppose the term
dummies
is not quite fair. They’re probably some kind of hybrid Animatronic, to be more exact. Robots built from leftover equipment like the kind of stuff I saw in the maintenance shed that time with Finn.”

“You think Maleficent is building herself an army?” Maybeck said.

“Maybe Wayne found out about it. Maybe that’s what got him in trouble. Except that I was with him when he disappeared, and I didn’t see anything to do with any robots.”

“But if there’re Overtakers patrolling Epcot…” Maybeck said.

“There has to be a reason,” Philby completed. “Yes, that’s right.”

“The sword,” Maybeck said.

“Let’s go.”

* * *

With her incredible speed Charlene led the way, running from their hiding place in the shrubs to the junction of the bridge and the main path. Once there, she slipped over the low wall and skidded down on her bottom, grabbing onto one of the protruding rocks in the wall and keeping herself from plunging into the canal.

Next came Jess, so that Willa would be last. Jess bent over and ran hard, mimicking everything Charlene had done. She crawled over the wall and found Charlene’s outstretched hand awaiting her.

“Way to go!” Charlene said in a hoarse whisper. They waited. One minute. Two.

“What’s taking her so long?” Charlene said. She started back up the face of the bridge, but Jess stopped her.

“If she isn’t here,” Jess said, “there’s a reason.”

A moment later Willa vaulted the wall, and caught up to the two girls.

“The dummies stopped over by Norway. I couldn’t see what was going on, but because Philby and Maybeck are over there…”

“You think they’re okay?” Charlene asked.

“The dummies stayed there for a minute and then moved on. I assume they’re all right.”

“Okay, then,” Charlene said. “Have both of you done uneven parallel bars?”

“No,” said Jess. “But I played on the bar on the playground when I was little.”

“Could you hold yourself up?”

“Yes.”

“That’s all you need to do. Willa?”

“I’ll do okay,” Willa said.

“Hand over hand,” Charlene advised. “Keep your feet pressed against the bar so you’re hanging with your back to the water. We can’t be dangling our legs or they might see us.”

“Who goes first?” Jess asked. When neither girl answered, she said, “I will.”

She clambered over the rocks, surprising the other two with her agility and flexibility, and found her way to the cluster of metal pipes and plastic tubes connected to the underside of the bridge. She reached up, hooked her fingers around the biggest pipe, and pulled herself up, hanging from it like an opossum from a tree limb. She inched her way backward, wrenching her neck around so she could see.

“It’s not so bad,” she whispered to the others. After a minute or two she reached the rock island that supported the turn in the bridge. She let herself down, found the same pipe continuing on the next section, and reached the far side.

“You’re next,” Charlene told Willa as she waved to Jess and gave her a thumbs-up.

Willa said, “I’m not the most coordinated person, you know?”

“You’ll do fine. Don’t look down. Just keep moving. You might want to go feet first.”

“Okay.”

Willa inched around on the rocks tentatively and grabbed hold of the pipe. She tested it by hanging from it, then gripped it again and swung her legs up so that her legs faced the island, and looked once over her shoulder at Charlene, her expression desperate and filled with concern. Charlene offered her a bright expression and hoped for the best.

Willa worked herself out over the dark water, moving slowly, but with increasing confidence.

“Psst!”
It was Jess from the opposite shore. She was pointing wildly up the canal away from the lake.

Charlene held her palm out like a traffic cop to stop Willa. Willa obeyed.

A small motorboat pulling a single barge was headed toward the lake. The barge had some gear on it—anchors or something. It was probably part of the support crew for the IllumiNations fireworks show. No matter: there was no way Willa could make it over to the island in time without being seen. If she remained perfectly still, the boat driver might not see her as he passed beneath her.

Charlene hand-signaled Willa to stay put. Willa nodded her agreement, but Charlene knew it couldn’t be easy, since she was holding all her weight by only a few fingers and using her leg strength to clamp her feet to the pipe. Charlene gestured with her chin for Willa to flatten herself so she wouldn’t hang down so far. Willa nodded, lengthened her hold, and pulled herself up closer to the pipe.

Willa struggled to hold on, arching her back, straightening her legs. And then it happened: she fell. Her feet slipped off the pipe, swinging down. The momentum proved too much for her tired hands. She lost her grip, letting go of the pipe, falling feet first, and dropped. Charlene expected a splash, but amazingly, Willa landed on the barge and despite her claim of not being athletic, she hit with the grace of a gymnast—her toes, ankles, knees absorbing the shock so that she arrived on the deck of the barge with only the most minimal sound, a small thud, which might have been nothing more than a wave lapping against the side of the vessel, and might have been lessened too by her being in her DHI state. The pilot didn’t turn around or react in any way.

A terrified Willa met eyes with Charlene, already scurrying across the deck of the barge and looking for a hiding place. Charlene had the presence of mind to point toward France and Willa nodded. They would meet up there if at all possible.

Willa and the barge motored out into the lake, the darkness soon masking them. The sound of the boat motor faded. Charlene scampered across the pipe like a monkey and reached Jess.

“What do we do?” Jess said.

“What we came to do,” Charlene answered. “We don’t have a choice.”

“How do you people
do
this?” Jess said, her voice straining to confine her emotions.

“You’ll get used to it,” Charlene said. “After a while, you actually kind of crave it.”

* * *

Finn walked calmly and steadily across the short distance to the back wall of the gift shop. He forgot about Amanda, he forgot about Wayne; he pictured the light of the train in the tunnel, wheatgrass blowing in the wind, a sailboat on the water, all things tranquil and gentle.

His hands and feet tingled, the sensation spreading up and down to meet somewhere in the center of his chest, near his heart, from where he felt a wonderfully peaceful swell of satisfaction and pleasure.

He walked straight through the cinder block wall, through a desk and a chair, arriving in an office space at the back of the gift shop. The shelves were neatly stocked with boxes and plastic bags crammed with items to replace all those sold out front. There was a computer terminal on the desk, a stapler, a phone. A Disney picture calendar hung on the wall alongside several cartoons that had been cut from the newspaper and a newspaper column titled “No Glass Slippers for This Little Princess.” Post-its hung from everywhere like ornaments from a Christmas tree. Along the wall by the door was a steel cabinet taller than Finn divided in half by a big door on the left and two smaller doors on the right, the lowest of which bore the title:
LOST AND FOUND
.

Finn proudly approached the locker and tried the lever: locked. He jiggled it several times to no avail. Next, he tried the desk’s center drawer, hoping for the key to unlock the lost and found: locked. In fact, every desk drawer was locked. He searched for a nail or hook where the keys might have been hung or hidden: nothing.

He knew he could reach through the metal locker door, but to do so he would have to be in all-clear, while to touch and pick up the fob he would have to be out of his all-clear state. He couldn’t even imagine the pain of losing his all-clear state while his arm was divided by a piece of steel. Besides which, the fob had not crossed over with him—it would remain fully material whether in his hand or not. Only items the DHIs held in their hands or carried in a pocket when they went to sleep achieved the DHI state; the locker door would need to be opened so Finn could remove the fob.

But to make sure he had the right place, he kneeled on the floor, settled himself, and stuck his head through the door and into the locker. His DHI’s glow shone enough light for him to see several cell phones and cameras, a sweatshirt—and the small black fob. The Return. He backed out of the locker before his own frustration removed his all-clear state and the metal bit into his neck.

So close, he thought, wondering if there wasn’t something to be done. How could he just leave it there? He tried another search of the place, including sticking his face through the top of the desk—like looking into a pool from the edge—and he spotted a set of keys he was certain would open the locker.

But there was nothing to be done about it. Just as there was no way into the locker, there was no way in to the desk. The only way to retrieve the fob was to do so while the locker was unlocked and open. During business hours, when Epcot was operating.

He calmed himself, walked through the wall and back outside and caught up with Amanda.

“We’re in trouble,” he told her. “We can’t cross back over until the park opens.”

“But that’s hours away,” she said. “And doesn’t that mean—?” She stopped herself because Finn was already nodding.

“The Syndrome,” he said. “Every one of us will be stuck in the Syndrome.”

P
HILBY WHISPERED TO MAYBECK
. “I don’t like this. Reminds me of Small World.”

“I hear you,” returned Maybeck in an equally soft voice.

They were inside the doors of Maelstrom, walking quietly through the empty waiting-line area, approaching the attraction’s loading dock. The main lights had been turned off. There was no music. As they arrived at the loading area, where guests would board the boats, the enormous painted mural facing them was barely lit, so that only the most brightly colored paint jumped out at them: a red-and-white striped sail, the top half of the sun, a village of white buildings.

“How do you spell
creepy
?” Maybeck asked.

A boat awaited them, the water gurgling around it.

“Why do I not want to get into that boat?” Philby said.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with the Norwegian and his son who just happened into Wonders, would it?”

“And the axe he was carrying?” Philby said.

“I didn’t see that.”

“I didn’t mention it to any of the others, because I don’t think they saw it either, but oh, yes: the redhead was carrying a very large axe.”

“You’re so comforting.”

“I try.”

“Well, try a little less, would you?” Maybeck said.

“Get in the boat,” Philby advised. “I’ll turn on the ride,” he said, pointing to a control console, “and jump in as it’s moving.”

“And if you happen not to make it and I end up in there alone?”

“The sword,” Philby said.

“You’d better not chicken out and leave me to do this alone.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ll make it to the boat in time.”

Maybeck climbed into the second row. Philby hit the
START
button on the console and ran to the edge and, with plenty of time to spare, climbed in alongside Maybeck.

“Okay, we’ve got problems,” Philby said, practically before he had sat down. He pointed to a curving bow of a boat that stuck out of the mural; it was wooden and three-dimensional.

“Yeah? So?” Maybeck said.

“That’s where the dude and his son are supposed to be.”

The front of the display boat was empty.

“Meaning?”

“They could be anywhere.”

“An axe,” Maybeck stated.

“True story.”

“In here somewhere?”

“Could be.”

“Why can’t we be normal kids?” Maybeck asked.

“I think we have Wayne to thank for that. Wayne and our parents who wanted the college funds.”

“College funds don’t do you any good if you aren’t alive to go to college.”

“True story.”

The boat began to climb. Into the dark. Into the sound of rushing water and the pounding of their own hearts in their ears.

* * *

“But what if she’s in trouble?” Jess demanded.

“Then she’ll get out of it, or she’ll call or text,” Charlene answered. The two were hunkered down where the bridge abutted the path, only a matter of thirty yards from the entrance to France. Street lamps cast a soft light.

Charlene led her to their right, along a retaining wall where a bicycle and canoe were fixed to the wall to simulate the towpath along the river Seine. Reaching the end of this retaining wall, they climbed over and into some well-manicured shrubs, and higher up, to just behind a bench, overlooking the plaza in front of France.

“But…”

“Our job is to get in there and find out if there’s a connection to Wayne. Willa is smart. She’ll think of something. If she needs us, we’ll hear from her. I’ll go first. You wait until I signal you. Okay?”

Jess clung to the rock wall, looking timid and afraid.

“Jess, we’re good at this. You have to trust me, the same way we all trust your dreams. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. All this, everything we’re doing is because of you, because Wayne picked you somehow, and don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t. None of this makes any sense out there in what everyone calls the ‘real world,’ but this world is just as real, believe me. And it’s the world we’re in right now, so you’ve got to trust me.”

“It’s just so…different,” Jess said, looking at her own hand glowing.

“I know what that’s like. I remember what it was like the first few times. I thought it was some kind of dream. If it wasn’t for the others, I’d still think it’s a dream. But it isn’t. We’re here and we’ve got stuff to do, and I need you to trust me. Willa’s going to be okay, and if she isn’t we’ll help her. It’s just the way it is.”

Jess nodded, still mesmerized by her illuminated hand. “I’ll bet you’re a good cheerleader.”

“Sit tight and wait for my signal.”

Charlene sprang into action. Up and over and past the bench, looking this way and that, stitching her way through the tall, mature trees along the embankment. She faced the Tuileries Gardens as she crossed and found a hiding place tucked into a storefront.

She waved and Jess followed, repeating her steps nearly exactly, amazed how it suddenly felt as if they’d crossed the Atlantic and stepped into a foreign country. The Parisian buildings were realistic and lovely, with tall windows and curving copper roofs. There were shops and cafés with little tables outside, incredible fountains, bright awnings, gas lamps, and street signs. The flowers and landscaping were all neatly manicured and perfect, the air heavy with perfume.

“It’s…amazing.”

“Yes,” Charlene said. “But hold the applause. We need to find the Notre Dame exhibit.”

“The
Impressions
movie.”

“Yes.”

“The main pavilion would be the next street over, wouldn’t it?” Jess asked.

“Must be.”

The girls kept to the front of the buildings and worked their way around to the entrance to a second, more elaborate courtyard. This, too, had gardens and gas lamps, shops and fountains. The plaza ended at a formidable structure behind which rose the needle of the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Just then, Jess heard the scuff of footsteps and pulled Charlene down with her, behind a large trash can and some potted plants.

A pair of court jesters appeared, clownlike in their colorful costumes and facepaint. They danced and leaped up on benches beneath a row of trees, with comical movements.

But Charlene recognized them for what they were. “Overtakers,” she whispered into Jess’s ear. She motioned for Jess to stay still. The two jesters were unpredictable, turning this way one moment and that way the next. Suddenly one of them, with powdered sugar all over his lips, approached the trash can behind which they were hiding. He crunched up a piece of paper and threw it away. If Charlene had reached out, she could have touched him.

“Pardon!”
he called out to the other in French.

“Oui!”
answered the other.

“T’entends un ronronnement?”

Charlene looked at Jess with a puzzled face. Jess leaned in so close that her lips touched Charlene’s ear. “‘Do you hear a hum?’” she translated.

“Non!”

“Viens ici.”

“‘Come here,’” Jess whispered.

The other jester bounded over, still playful and childlike in his movement.

Charlene held her breath and tried to calm herself, knowing the closer she got to all-clear, the less of a hum her DHI would emit.

The second jester, unable to leave his character, held his hand to his ear in a silly way, overemphasizing the effort.

“Aha! Je l’entends!”

“‘I hear it!’”

“Qu’est-ce que t’en penses?”

“‘What do you think it is?’”

“Je pense qu’il y a quelque chose qui ronronne!”

“‘I think there’s something humming!’”

“Mais qu’est-ce qu’il y a qui pourrait ronronner ici? Je ne l’ai jamais entendu avant. Et toi?”

“‘But what could be humming here? I’ve never heard it before. Have you?’”

“Moi non plus. C’est un des fluos, peut-être? Comment pourrais-je savoir?”

“‘Me neither. Maybe it’s one of the fluorescent lights? How should I know?’”

Charlene nodded, appreciating the translation. Then she shook her head and made her fingers walk, indicating they had to move.

The jesters, only a few yards away, were going to find them. She felt certain of it. At the same time, she felt her hands and feet tingle, and the same odd sensation pass all the way through her until warming the center of her chest, just below her ribs.

All-clear
, she realized, having heard Finn describe it so many times. She motioned for Jess to stay down, as close to the trash can as possible.

Then she stood up, looked right at the two jesters and said, “Looking for me?” There was no sense reciting DHI lines as she might have had they been Security guards or Cast Members; these two were Overtakers, patrolling for only one reason: to find and capture Kingdom Keepers.

As she moved toward them, the jesters lunged for her—
and ran right through her
. They fell to the path and turned their faces back toward her, clearly jolted by the experience.

Charlene, glowing more brightly with the thrill of having achieved all-clear, ran off, leading the two away from Jess’s hiding place, where she was crouched behind the trash can. She vaulted over a bench, just as she ran hurdles for the track team, and heard one of the jesters crash into the bench behind her. She leaped up onto the edge of the fountain and across the water, landing a foot on the retaining wall, springing off it, and ducking under a tree.

She heard a splash—the second jester had gone down in the fountain.

Charlene cut left and vaulted over a second wall through a narrow gap between young trees. She was in a courtyard, blocked to her left by the same line of trees. She ran right and then sharply left as she reached a street between two French buildings. She never looked back, having learned from her coaches that to do so cost precious time in a footrace. The jesters were no match for her agility and speed. If she had looked back she would have seen the two a good twenty yards behind, and slowing as she continued to develop more speed.

She faced more gardens and trees—knew she could lose them for good here and circle back around, with any luck, in time to meet up with Jess.

But just as important, she needed to keep the jesters busy, to give Jess time to enter the pavilion and look for any clues. She fought the urge to be rid of these two. For the moment, she needed them to follow her. She slowed just long enough for them to see her enter the landscaping, just long enough for them to think they had a chance in following her.

Back in the courtyard, Jess stood and watched the footrace under way. She ran toward the pavilion, remembering the importance of getting inside. She entered and stopped abruptly, overcome by the magnificence of the exhibition hall. Ahead of her was the empty waiting line for the film
Impressions de France
. There was a model of Notre Dame in Paris, and a huge gargoyle crouched on a pedestal. She felt paralyzed, wondering what she was supposed to do. She wasn’t about to go in and sit down and watch a movie. What clue had Wayne intended for them?

She closed her eyes, wondering if she could make herself see one of her visions. She heard a cracking sound and chunks of something, like rock, striking the floor.

She opened her eyes to see the gargoyle breaking apart from his recoiled pose. Small cracks appeared in his neck, widening as his head moved and swiveled toward her. Pieces of concrete and particles of dust fell away from him. His eyelids cracked and began to open.

She felt light-headed. She stepped back and knocked over a stanchion.

The gargoyle’s ugly monkey eyes ringed with spikes locked onto hers, hypnotizing her. The small wings on his back began to flutter, sending more dust into the air. He wrenched his unseen legs up and out of the pedestal to stand four feet high, crouching and craning toward her as he blinked his dusty eyes in an effort to clear them.

“Over here!” came a girl’s voice.

Jess, spooked with the surprise, let out a short cry, and glanced over to see Willa, drenched head to toe.

The gargoyle pivoted toward Willa.

“Over here, monkey-man!” Willa said.

“Or here!” Jess said.

The gargoyle jerked his head in Jess’s direction, unable to decide which way to go. More dust flew, and Jess could see more cracks appearing in his body.

The beast’s wings beat more furiously, and he lifted into the air, flying toward Willa. She dove to the floor and slid. The gargoyle landed heavily, shaking the entire building, but missed her. Willa came to her feet, grabbing onto the waiting-line rope.

“Help me!” she said.

Jess grabbed the other end of the rope. The girls dragged the stanchions with them as they charged the gargoyle. It struggled to turn around, moving slowly, like someone trying to get out of a chair.

The waiting-line rope caught the beast on his side and wrapped his wings tight against his body as the girls continued around him and met on the other side. They tangled the rope clumsily as the gargoyle fought off being captured. But his wings were caught and ineffective.

The more he struggled, the more cracks appeared in his body. Dust was everywhere, like a thick cloud. The girls ran for the exit.

“He’s coming apart!” Jess said.

“Out of the way!” shouted Charlene.

The girls turned in the doorway to see the gargoyle in silhouette. They reacted instinctively. Charlene charged like a sprinter, left the ground, flying at the strange creature, feet first. She hit hard, driving the beast over onto his back. He smacked the floor and, as he did, broke into a hundred pieces.

The cloud of dust settled. Charlene scrambled to her feet.

“Everyone okay?” she asked.

“Where did you come from?” Jess asked.

“What was
that
?” Willa said.

“Gymnastics,” Charlene answered. “A vault without the follow-through.” She smiled widely. “I always wondered if I’d get a chance to use any of it.”

Willa said, “We’d better get out of here.”

“And fast,” Charlene said, agreeing. “I left the jesters halfway to Morocco. At some point they’ll figure out I circled back.”

“We just leave?” Jess asked.