And then, at once, several hands grabbed him and began to drag him away.
He heard applause and laughter.
He blinked his eyes open but was immediately blinded by the sun in the sky.
He averted his eyes and happened to catch a glimpse of one of the hands wrapped around his arm: black and calloused, with long, thin fingers. The hand was connected to a hairy arm.
Finn wrenched his head around.
He was being dragged off by a pair of orangutans. He tried to break the grip of the one on his left, and the thing bared its teeth and lunged toward his face as if to bite him. Finn jerked away, narrowly missing those teeth.
They were dragging him toward the jungle. They were kidnapping him.
And the audience thought it was all part of the show.
MAYBECK HEARD THAT ROAR and ran for the gardener who was watering the trees. He stole the hose out of the man’s hands. Not really a man—more like a college kid. The guy didn’t appreciate someone stealing his hose.
Maybeck’s aunt Jelly had a mutt named Porky who considered their small backyard his domain. About once a month some stupid neighborhood dog would decide to visit their backyard without an invitation from Porky, typically resulting in a dogfight of epic proportions.
The first time Maybeck had tried to break up one of the fights, he’d nearly gotten his hand bitten off. He’d been saved by Jelly, who had broken up the fight with the garden hose. Ever since, Maybeck had used a strong burst of hose water to separate Porky and his prey.
He took the hose and sprinted toward the large apes who were dragging his friend across the pavement. He fought his way through the thick crowd, which was actually laughing and cheering.
Maybeck gave the hose one last tug, but he’d reached its limit. It would extend no farther.
He squeezed the handle and shot a burst of water at the lion. The water pressed right through the animal.
A DHI!
Next, Maybeck aimed the hose at the nearest orangutan, hitting him squarely in the head. The ape was real. It let go of Finn to block the water streaming toward its face.
Again, the audience let out a cry of approval, clapping and hollering.
The ape shot a glance at Maybeck as if to challenge him, then quickly seemed to reconsider, and turned back toward Finn.
Maybeck blasted the other ape.
Finn broke loose just as the gardener jumped onto Maybeck from behind, wresting the hose from his grip.
Finn scrambled to his feet, slipped on the wet blacktop, and went down hard. Both orangutans rushed him, and Finn rolled out of the way, causing the two apes to collide. He got to his feet and took off toward Maybeck, who knocked the gardener aside, opening a small hole in the crowd, which Finn charged through.
The two took off at a full sprint, the orangutans following, their backs hunched, their teeth bared.
Finn glanced over his shoulder, but it slowed him.
“Don’t look back!” Amanda said into his ear. “I’ve got you. The Lion King show is running! You can lose them in there!”
“This way!” Finn shouted at Maybeck, who had heard Amanda as well.
They angled slightly toward the large, open pavilion, where a flash of bright color and loud African music confirmed the show was underway.
“They’re gaining on you,” Amanda warned. “Zigzag!”
Finn and Maybeck immediately cut left and right, right and left, in random patterns. Rather than run straight and intercept them, the orangutans followed their paths exactly, and the boys, having the longer strides, increased their leads.
“It’s working!” Amanda cheered them on.
Together the boys burst into the show already in progress. Four sets of wooden bleachers rose from a theater-in-the-round, at the center of which were colorfully dressed acrobats performing on a giant trampoline, with trapeze artists spinning overhead.
As Finn slowed, Maybeck didn’t hesitate for a second. Perhaps it was the result of forward momentum, perhaps because the Lion King stage set blocked their way; but Maybeck ran right up a ramp, hit the trampoline, and vaulted his way through the air and across to the other side. He tucked into a somersault, rolled to standing, and went running down the opposing ramp—right out of the pavilion.
Trying to avoid a collision with the ramp, Finn skidded and tucked his legs under him as if sliding into home plate. He braced himself to be crushed into the side of the stage, only to fly through the fabric skirt that surrounded it and find himself under the movable stage platform and the giant trampoline at its center. He crawled toward the other side, looking back to see two orangutans right behind him.
He glanced overhead. The trampoline’s fabric stretched toward the concrete floor as the acrobatic show continued above him. Whenever anyone hit the trampoline, the fabric stretched so low that Finn had to lie flat; he couldn’t squat without the risk of being crushed. Watching the orangutans approach, he suddenly saw his situation not as a threat but an opportunity: he could use the trampoline to his advantage.
Doubting that he and Maybeck could outrun the two apes, Finn turned and took a stand. The apes were faster and stronger than he, but Finn had the edge in intelligence. He remained directly under the pulsating trampoline, now turning to face the two apes, who immediately slowed with this challenge.
Finn egged on the apes, drawing them toward him, while keeping an eye on the pattern of the stretched trampoline fabric. There were currently four performers on the trampoline. The pattern of jumps was: the four corners; the center; the four corners.
Finn belly-crawled to the right. The nearest ape took the bait, turning to intercept him. The trampoline suddenly caved in over the ape’s head, stretching toward the ground. The ape, caught between the trampoline and the concrete, was crushed by the weight of the acrobat. The ape was flattened. It cried out sharply, rolled away, and took off at a run in the opposite direction.
The trampoline came down immediately in front of the other ape, and that proved enough motivation. This one took off as well, following his buddy. Finn rolled and crawled out the other side and then sprinted for the sunlight outside the pavilion.
Maybeck had waited for him. Maybeck, who never thought of anyone but himself.
They took off running before either said a word, but as they reached full stride, Finn, the slower of the two, managed to pull even with Maybeck, though only briefly.
“Thanks,” Finn called out to Maybeck. “I think we now know what happened to Philby!”
“The water shot right through the lion,” Maybeck said. “It was a DHI.”
“Maleficent’s building an army,” Finn told him. “An army of animals,” he added. Maybeck flashed him a suspicious and disbelieving look. “Wayne told me,” Finn said.
Finn turned and led Maybeck toward the Park entrance, still at a full run.
“Where are you going?” Maybeck huffed.
“The button,” Finn said. “The remote control. We can’t free Willa and Philby without the button.”
HAVING WITNESSED THE ENCOUNTER with the lion, Amanda kept a close eye on Finn and Maybeck as they headed toward the Park entrance. She had a good understanding of the camera system by now, enabling her to guide the boys and check the area both in front and behind for any sign of Overtakers.
A family waited behind Amanda to use her AnimalCam. Among them was an obnoxious boy who heckled her. She wondered what would happen if she were forced to surrender her viewing station, when the person to use it next realized they had access to every security camera in the Park. Again, the boy raised his voice.
“You don’t own it, you know! Give it a rest.”
The outburst won the attention of a Cast Member, who then headed toward her. Amanda quickly reset the viewing menu to match what was offered by the three other AnimalCam stations, but if the next user happened to scroll down…
The little boy jeered at Amanda as he stepped up to the station, which worked in her favor: his mother took away his “privilege” of u
sing the AnimalCam, allowing Amanda to retake her place.
She caught his reflection in the Plexiglas that protected the AnimalCam’s television monitor.
She spun around sharply, getting a better look at the boy’s arm.
The boy snapped at her, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”
“Your…tattoo…” Amanda muttered.
“What about it?” the boy asked.
“May I?” She took a tentative step closer.
The boy tried to step away and deny her, but his mother blocked him, suddenly Amanda’s ally.
Amanda reached into her back pocket and withdrew the photocopied page from Jez’s diary.
Amanda held the photocopy up to the light and peered through the paper to reverse the image.
It was a match, a near-perfect sketch of the tattoo: a gorilla on crutches with a yellow bandage on its right foot. On the boy’s arm, “Help Care for Wildlife” was written across the top and “Disney’s Animal Kingdom” at the bottom. But Jez’s version offered only the image, not the words. Amanda had mistaken the figure in the sketch for a man.
“Where’d you get this?” she asked.
The mother answered, not the boy. “Here,” she said, pointing toward the large windows at the far end of the area that looked in on a veterinarian suite and several laboratories where animals were housed or cared for. “They give them out if you take the private tour. The keepers.”
This won an overwrought reaction from Amanda, who was thinking: Kingdom Keepers.
“The animal keepers,” the woman clarified.
“Ohhh…”
“My husband is a consultant to Disney. They gave Preston and me a private tour, earlier. Really incredible, if you can arrange it.”
“It was awesome,” said Preston, his mood suddenly pleasant.
Boys!
“At the end of the tour, the tattoo was one of the keepsakes they gave him,” the mother explained.
“Backstage,” Amanda mumbled, her mind whirring as she calculated how to get herself a private tour. Jez had been back there in her dreams. She felt certain of it.
Then she reconsidered her situation: she had an Animal Kingdom Cast Member pass in her pocket.
What was to stop her from going back there?
INSIDE THE ANIMAL KINGDOM’S main entrance, in the large central courtyard where Park guests gathered, stood a talking recycling bin. A metal box standing about four feet high, it looked like a U.S. Postal Service box painted green. It was currently surrounded by several small boys and a pair of curious girls, amazed that when they asked it a question, the box could answer them.
Finn and Maybeck slowed and approached the recycling bin cautiously, not wanting to draw attention to themselves.
“Find a newspaper,” Finn said to Maybeck.
“What?”
“Split up. We’ve got to find something recyclable. The trash cans make the most sense.”
“You want to Dumpster-dive the trash cans for something recyclable?”
“Exactly. A newspaper. Soda can. Plastic water bottle. Doesn’t matter. I need an excuse to open the flap and put my hand inside. I hadn’t figured on it being so popular.”
“FEEEEEED MEEEEEE,” the can was saying to the giggling children. “Do you recycle at home?”
The kids were getting a kick out of the talking can, their amused parents standing back and watching.
The boys split up, and shortly thereafter, Maybeck returned with an empty water bottle.
“Perfect,” Finn said, taking hold of the bottle.
Suddenly, the bin turned sharply toward Finn. The younger kids jumped back, followed by a volley of laughter.
“FEEEEEED MEEEEEE,” the can repeated, now aiming directly at Finn.
Finn had no doubt that Wayne had arranged this somehow.
“Eleven o’clock,” Maybeck whispered at Finn.
Finn carefully looked slightly to his left and identified a casually dressed man wearing sunglasses and a pair of headphones. He carried what looked like a radio in his hands, but Finn recognized it as the remote control device that was steering the box. This man was also listening and speaking through the moving box. His sunglasses prevented Finn from knowing where he was looking, but Finn believed the man was very much aware of the task at hand.
Finn hoisted the water bottle.
The box said, “Did you know that recycled water bottles are made into Park benches, picnic tables, and car parts?”
“I did not,” Finn answered.
“Are you going to feed me or not?” the box asked.
“Feed it!” one of the little kids said boldly.
“Do it!” chimed in another.
Finn knew how to play this. He approached the box warily, the water bottle extended as an offering. He reached into the bin. Then he lurched forward, as if the box were trying to swallow him. As the kids recoiled in a mixture of laughter and screams, Finn ran his hand along the roof of the box and bumped into something hard. He took hold of it and pulled. Some tape came loose, and he now had the remote in hand. He cupped it in his fist, drew his arm back out of the bin dramatically and gestured wildly, pocketing the device.
“Yum, yum!” said the recycle bin. “More! I want more!”
“I’m afraid that’s all,” said Finn, backing up and moving away. The bin spun toward the other children, drawing their attention and making it easier for Finn to slip away.
He glanced over at the man secretly controlling the bin and thought he saw a slight nod of acknowledgment.
His DS beeped and he checked the chat room.
angelface13: they’re almost through the moving ice.
Finn: we’re on our way. we did a little recycling.
HAVING HANDED OFF THE REMOTE control device to Charlene, who stood watch outside the bat enclosure, Finn and Maybeck rode a Disney bus to the Animal Kingdom Lodge.
Charlene would, once again, use her stilts and camouflage to approach the backstage area behind the enclosure. This time, she would circle around, rather than enter the enclosure, avoiding the scrutiny of the Park visitors. Once she established herself atop the wall near the two cages and the ice truck, she would notify Finn on the DS.
The boys had to discover where the real Willa and Philby were being kept and be on hand to get them out of the hotel once they awakened. Charlene was to trigger the remote, canceling their DHI state.
They entered the Animal Kingdom Lodge lobby, and both boys gasped. Finn had never seen such a place. It felt as if he’d stepped into Africa itself: the vast floor and the columns were crafted from a dark, unusual wood; the lobby furniture was covered in brown-and-white animal skins; giant chandeliers made of spears and shields hung from the ceiling. African music played, the rhythm enchanting. The bellhops wore brown safari outfits. The lobby stretched two hundred feet or more, leading to stairs and giant windows that looked out onto an African savannah, where Finn could see two giraffes and several wildebeests.
Upon seeing all of this, Maybeck hissed a bad word.
There were people everywhere. Some occupied the sumptuous furniture; others milled about, heading this way or that. The clatter and hum of people eating and talking wafted up from a lower level to the right. A few people waited in line at the registration desk to the left. But all around, there was a feeling of excitement and mystery as families and staff came and went. Into this walked two boys, one in a Park worker’s coveralls, the other in shorts and a T-shirt.
No one paid them the slightest bit of attention.
“We’re invisible,” Finn said softly.
“I hear you,” Maybeck agreed.
Finn rarely found a place inside Disney World where he was not self-conscious about being a DHI actor, where he didn’t feel the weight of eyes trained on him wondering if he was him, the Disney host from the Magic Kingdom. Yet here, in the wondrous lobby of this magnificent lodge, he felt transported across the oceans to another continent, one far away from Mickey and Minnie and the person he had
become.
“Any ideas?” Maybeck asked.
“We can’t exactly ask someone if they’ve seen a boy and a girl,” Finn said, having already walked past a few dozen boys and girls, most in the company of their parents, but not all.
“No.”
“If I could get on to VMK, Wayne might be able to look up what rooms have been checked into in the past few hours, but there would be too many to count.”
“Yup.”
“Not much help.”
“Nope.”
“So, do you have any bright ideas?” Finn asked. The two boys passed a small study, like a private library, on their left, and they continued down a long corridor of hotel rooms.
“We can’t exactly go knocking on every door,” Maybeck said.
“You think?” Finn stepped aside and allowed a family coming toward them to pass. “I was hoping for something more constructive.”
“I’ve got nothing,” Maybeck said.
“I noticed.”
“We could divide and conquer,” Maybeck suggested. “I could take the upstairs or the other side of the hotel.”
The lodge was fashioned in a giant Y, with the lobby in the stem, and the rooms stretching out into both wings of the V at the top of the stem. The V stuck out into a savannah, and the long corridors periodically offered viewing stations on either side, where all kinds of wildlife could be seen, from birds that stood four feet high to zebras and Thomson’s gazelles.
“We could stay in touch by DS,” Maybeck continued.
Finn stopped and grabbed Maybeck by the arm. “That’s it!” he whispered harshly.
“It is?”
“The DSs,” Finn said. “When a DS gets a new message, it beeps.”
“So?”
“So…if we keep texting, and if one of us is near the door to their room when it beeps, then we’ll hear it and know which room they’re in.”
“Sweet,” said Maybeck.
Kingdom Keepers Boxed Set Page 36