“You think I only care about Finn?”
“I think you care more about him. Of course.”
“She doesn’t.” Jess jumped to my defense. “In her heart, maybe, sure. But not in her actions. I’ve never seen you favor Finn that way,” she said, looking at me.
“Uh-oh,” I answered, looking beyond her. “Company.”
The three of us rose at the same time. Four men in suits, men who did not belong in the Magic Kingdom, approached us. Two of their faces were eerily familiar.
Two more blocked us from behind.
“Does that scare you enough?” I asked my partners.
“Um, yeah!” answered Mattie. “They’re the ones that got me.”
Jess said nothing.
The man directly in front of me shook his head as he saw my eyes wander from side to side. “Don’t make a scene,” he said softly. “The company knows we’re here, and it knows why. All you’ll do is damage their reputation. Not ours. We have no reputation. We don’t exist.”
“We’re supposed to just…what?” I asked. “Walk out of here?”
“We won’t be joining the others. We’re headed for the parade route gate by Splash Mountain.”
“The Imagineers would never let this happen,” Jess said.
“Don’t be so sure,” the man said.
“We’re no longer minors,” Mattie said. “Taking us against our will is kidnapping.”
“We will be happy to have our attorneys explain it you, Madeline. But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight you will be our guests on a flight to Baltimore.”
“No,” I said, trying to hide my nervousness. “Tonight you will put us up in a Disney hotel on property. Tomorrow morning we will meet with the lawyers. Only then are we getting on some plane.”
“You are hardly in a position to make demands.”
“Seriously?” I said. “What do think we’ve been doing while we’ve been away?” I raised both arms, each aimed at one of the suits. I clapped my hands. The two men slid, standing up, like they were on ice, and smashed into each other at high speed. In seconds, they lay groveling on the asphalt. Then I used my left hand to knock the stun gun from the leader’s hands. It broke into pieces on the concrete.
“Should we go again?” I asked. “If one of you so much as lays a hand on me or my friends, we will not go willingly.”
With four men surrounding us, it made sense that I couldn’t actually win a battle. But I could inflict significant injury, starting with the leader.
The two on the pavement climbed to their knees, stood, and brushed themselves off. I wasn’t good at making new friends.
“Fine,” the leader said. “It will take us some time to make the arrangements.”
“And we will sit here until you do.”
“I’d rather we all get into the vehicle.”
“I’m sure you would, but that’s not going to happen. You wouldn’t like it anyway. My power in a closed space like that? No fun for anyone.”
We negotiated a bit longer, but I surprised myself—and Jess!—with my lack of compromise. All the while, I kept an eye on the leader’s wristwatch, tracking the minutes as they ticked past. At one point, Mattie allowed a wiggle of a smile to sneak out, but she bit it back just as quickly. I winked at her.
Grown-ups can be pathetically slow. Rather than just booking a few rooms himself, the leader assigned the task to someone at the other end of a phone call. It was probably beneath him to carry out such menial labor. Thankfully for us, putting a middleman into the logistics and reservations meant killing more time.
The minutes slipped past. The flow of departing guests was down to a trickle. Soon the security guards trying to clear the park would notice us. That would give me a chance to test how honest the leader had been. I had my doubts about Disney’s complicity in our detainment.
Luckily for the leader, confirmation came before security.
“The Polynesian. One room, two beds. We will be in the rooms on either side of you and across the hall.”
“Show us to the car,” I said. “But as a reminder, if any one of you touches one of us, even accidentally, I will flatten that man and anyone else within twenty yards of me.”
For the first time, the leader didn’t have a response.
LUOWSKI
I ran from the church, wanting to distance myself from the feeble guy in the suit. I had no idea what might have happened if he’d caught me for real; I had no desire to find out.
Giddiness swept through me as I pictured the look on the man’s face when I easily fought him off. Whatever had happened to me after I’d become part of the Overtakers, I now possessed the ability to deflect an opponent’s strength. It wasn’t like I could bench press four fifty, but just try taking a swing at me.
Two miles to the bus stop.
Despite my internal revelry, the near-capture had warned me that nowhere was safe. I had no idea who the suits were or what they wanted. That didn’t help me feel any more secure.
I wasn’t being followed. Maybe the Freaks were telling the truth. Maybe the men were actually after them.
A series of bus rides and I ended up at Downtown Disney. From there, I’d have to wing it.
“We’d better hurry. It’s Central Plaza for us, Greg, ASAP.” Amanda’s words echoed in my head. Philby’s stupid laptop was proving impossible to crack, so the Freaks seemed like the only way to find and take out the Keepers.
At eleven forty, I approached Central Plaza in the Magic Kingdom. Keeping my eyes open for the Fairlies, I headed for shadow. I loved shadow.
Ten patient minutes later, I thought I spotted Amanda’s brown hair. She stood, arms akimbo, shaking her head at a small group of the suits. They looked like the same men from the church. I inched closer, trying to hear what they were saying.
“Show us to the car,” Amanda said. “But as a reminder, if any one of you touches one of us, even accidentally, I will flatten that man and anyone else within twenty yards of me.”
It’s true! I thought wryly.
I followed the group toward the Jafar row of the Magic Kingdom parking lot. As they walked, Amanda almost seemed to sparkle in the lamplight.
I’d liked her for a long, long time. She knew it. Whitless knew it. And still, they’d treated me like scum for two years at school. Payback time.
The suits led the girls to a black SUV.
I had no way to follow.
Looking around the backstage parking lot, I saw a Disney transport van idling with the lights on. It was used to bring Cast Members to distant parking lots. The driver was busy talking to a Cast Member, both drinking coffee. I had no choice.
I hurried across the lot, ducking low, using cars to screen me.
I slipped into the passenger door, and climbed behind the wheel.
The SUV was nearly out of sight.
I shifted and hit the accelerator and the back tires squealed. In the rearview mirror I saw the driver drop his coffee.
As the SUV came back into sight, I slowed to keep my distance as I smiled, deeply satisfied.
So far, so good.
Fifteen agonizing minutes later, we pulled up to the Polynesian, a tropical themed resort with eleven longhouses set up like the eleven islands of Polynesia. I parked the van out on the street and crossed through a parking lot to reach the hotel.
At the lobby entrance, one of the suits went inside, probably to collect room keys.
I didn’t know if it was my own thoughts, or a voice speaking to me, but I knew suddenly that I couldn’t stay. The Freaks weren’t the answer. The person who knew what was going on was the Head Imagineer. I knew—or I was told—where to find him. Maybe I’d overheard someone talking about it. Maybe it was the jet flying overhead. Regardless, I knew I had to wait outside the backstage gate to Disney’s Hollywood Studios—the Imagineering offices. An answer would come.
I headed back to the van through the valet parking lot.
I saw an amber flashing light through the bushes. Disne
y Security had found the van.
Panicking, I spun, trying to think of what to do.
When one of the valet dudes in the stupid costumes parked a car and began to trot back toward the hotel, I caught up to him and clipped him from behind, dropping him to the pavement with a single punch. Then I took his wallet and keys. I didn’t have to use the key, just have it in my pocket. One push of a button, and I was rolling in a red Buick with black leather seats.
Sweet.
When I was right, I was right. Shortly after I parked near the Studio’s security exit, a white van pulled out—the interior light on!—and there was the Head Imagineer, Joe, riding shotgun. I followed, giving them a good distance.
A half hour later, they turned off the highway toward the Orlando Airport. The van caught me by surprise, exiting before the final turn. I drove past, got caught in the loop that circled the terminal. I’d lost at least ten minutes.
When I finally made the turn I’d missed, I was on an access road that led along the vast area containing a string of companies and hangars. I slowed at each driveway, looking in. Just past the entrance to a place called JetPort, I saw the van on the tarmac beside a fancy jet with the Disney “D” on the tailfin. A number of stretchers were being lifted by a device and rolled into the jet. The Kingdom Keepers! The Imagineers were moving the Keepers out of Orlando!
To avoid making a scene, I drove on and doubled back.
Judging by the cars I saw parked nearby, JetPort was a private jet terminal used by rich businessmen and major companies. I went on foot to the front door, but turned around immediately. The Imagineer was talking to someone at the counter. I didn’t want him seeing me. I felt like a dog on a short leash.
Only after the Disney jet taxied away did I enter the JetPort terminal. The place looked like a country club, all padded carpeting, heavy formal furniture, and an abundance of huge flat-screen televisions. There was a help-yourself refreshment area. I wolfed down two chocolate chip cookies before approaching the counter.
Glancing at my reflection as I passed a steel post, I realized with a jolt of surprise that I was still wearing my EMT uniform. It occurred to me that I had to play a role. There was no turning back.
The lady smiled, “How may I help you, sir?”
“Well,” I drawled, “the Disney group that just left? They asked me to air freight some equipment they didn’t have room for. They’re going to need it. I’m supposed to send it to the terminal there, where they’re landing.” I patted my various pockets. “Trouble is…and I hope this can stay between us…I’ve lost the address for the place.”
“Sir?” She bit her lip.
“I can arrange it down at FedEx, but heck, not if I don’t have the right terminal!”
She hesitated. “The thing is, sir, we have a strict policy about customer privacy. Very strict.”
“It’s not as if I can call Mr. Garlington.” I thought using Joe’s name might help me. I was right. She stared at me, unsure, but I could see her face softening.
“Look, I messed up,” I said. Words that didn’t come easily. I sighed for effect and looked down. “But my mess up shouldn’t cause someone’s health complications.”
“All right! Okay!” she said. “It’s an FBO at Burbank called StarFlight. Their flight plan is to Burbank, California. But I didn’t tell you that.”
She lowered her head as if I were no longer in the room.
Soon I was in the Orlando Airport at the ticket counter, buying a red-eye flight courtesy of one of the parking valet’s many credit cards. I hadn’t gotten much sleep in the past few days. The night flight would do me good.
AMANDA
Blinking awake, I felt a soft tremor beneath me, as if I was on the floor of an apartment near a passing train, or maybe on a ride in the parks. Above me I saw the gentle curve of off-white fabric. My neck was sore and tight; I fought back a bad headache in an effort to look to my left. Last thing I remembered was the Barracks 14ers in the Magic Kingdom.
Joe’s face, a knot of concern and worry, loomed above me, as big as a hot-air balloon. Slowly, he blinked, his eyes watery. I watched his troubles melt from his face like Olaf dissolving near a fire. A tear spilled.
“You’re all right,” he said.
My dry mouth and throat prevented me from speaking. He called out something I couldn’t hear, and a water glass and straw arrived.
“Don’t sit up yet. It’s the drugs,” he said. “They affected you badly.”
“Drugs?” I choked out. I hated even the idea of the things. Had never done any, would never do any.
“Medications. The sleeping aid you agreed to? You all agreed. The nurse, remember?”
I did, vaguely. The idea had not been entirely Joe’s. We’d worked out the legalities before heading to the church, which I also remembered.
“The van,” I said, the water tasting delicious, cooling the back of my throat. “The back of the van.”
Joe nodded. “We put you to sleep and crossed you over as DHIs into the Central Plaza. That way the men from Maryland were only collecting holograms. You must have done a good job convincing them not to touch you. If they had, they’d have known.”
“We allowed fear,” I said. “Being version 1.6, that made us more solid. But yes, I tried to let them know we wouldn’t tolerate being handled.”
“I’m glad you remember. It must have been a shock. On this end you were supervised and monitored the whole time. We returned you just now. You’re all three coming awake. Sure glad it worked.”
I saw the nurse; a couple other people I took to be Imagineers on Joe’s team too. Mattie was on a couch across from me, with Jess farther up.
“Where am I?”
“The Disney jet. Remember the plan? We’re heading back to Burbank. It’s a little past three in the morning. We’ve brought the four Keepers along with us for safekeeping. Their continuing dormancy is disturbing and potentially dangerous. But mostly this is about you.” He grinned devilishly, like a boy who’d played the ultimate prank. “If your captors are keeping a close eye on you, well, you just disappeared. Otherwise, someone is in for a big surprise tomorrow morning. I doubt they know much about DHIs, so they’re going to wonder how three girls escaped from a locked room. Let them try to figure that one out.
“I guarantee you,” Joe continued, “those men have no idea where you’ve gone or how it happened. They’ll likely be fired. And I’ve got another trick or two up my sleeve when it comes to you three. A way to protect you, to keep you safe and sound in the School of Imagineering for a long time to come.”
Overwhelming joy and relief left me speechless. I sniffled, and Joe told me the nurse would get the three of us some power drinks.
“We’ve got work to do,” he added. “I got the security video, as requested. We have it with us.”
Mattie and Jess came through the return well. Joe had not wanted to induce sleep, but he knew he had to cross us over into Central Plaza in the short span of a car ride. So the nurse had given us something mild, and we’d drifted off. Joe crossed us over, fooling the Barracks 14ers long enough to get us onto a plane and out of Orlando.
Mission accomplished.
Halfway into the long flight, our stomachs full, our heads cleared, Joe got down to business.
“Wanda requested security videos of Walt’s apartment in Disneyland,” he said.
The jet’s window shades had been pulled. A flat panel TV hung on the wall by the cockpit. The screen had been showing our flight path a few minutes earlier; currently, it broadcast video blue.
“We found it interesting, since our DHI team had been reviewing the same tapes this week. Can you explain why she made that request?”
He looked directly at Mattie.
MATTIE
Joe stared directly at me. My eyes drifted around the jet. My cheeks were on fire.
“We needed answers. You guys, the Imagineers, always seem to have them,” I said softly. “So I kind of…I thought maybe…but I knew I s
houldn’t. I kind of tricked people into letting me read them.”
“My team?” He sounded outraged.
“Uh…yeah.”
No one spoke. My stomach dropped.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just we were desperate—are desperate. And there was this one guy…he has grayish hair. He’d seen the apartment surveillance videos. Because he saw them, so did I.”
Joe’s face darkened. I hoped he wasn’t considering opening the door and throwing me out of the jet without a parachute. He kinda looked that way.
“No one can fault you for creativity. As long as you don’t share what yo—”
“Never!”
Jess, Amanda, and I did not move. Did not breathe.
“Well, then,” Joe said. “Let’s get to work.”
JESS
The screen flickered to life, revealing grainy footage shot by a security camera. I immediately recognized the room: Walt Disney’s private apartment in Disneyland.
The small space was decorated like something you’d see in a grandma’s house: two couches and a handful of chairs; faded floral pillows; the signature lamp in the window—lit, as always. A large wooden box on legs looking like an extremely old jukebox stood in the corner.
As we watched, five figures entered the room. Amanda tensed as Finn came into view, followed by the rest of the Keepers. They gathered around a chest-high brown box and carried on an animated discussion. But we couldn’t hear them. The camera lacked audio.
“That object is a vintage music box. Some of the furniture in the apartment are reproductions, but the music box is original. Walt loved his music,” Joe said. “The tapes show us that the Keepers visited the apartment and the music box several times. Then this, a few days later.”
A new video played. This time Finn and Philby stood by the music box. Philby moved to a photo on the wall and removed it. His body blocked any view of what he did before returning the photo to the wall.
“We are assuming he found a key on the back of the frame,” Joe said.
Philby again blocked the music box. A small drawer popped open below the glass window. Philby took a disc over to the ancient phonograph, and the boys listened.
Kingdom Keepers: The Syndrome Page 18