Kingdom Keepers: The Syndrome

by Ridley Pearson

  Joe called up the security video on his laptop and angled the screen so all of us could see. Once again, we watched Finn walk into the apartment, fiddle with the music box, and leave. Joe rewound it. We re-watched. Same thing.

  “Wait.” I called out. “Rewind it, please. There’s a tiny bump.”

  Joe rewound. We watched the video for a third time.

  “There!” I said.

  Two more viewings of the same few seconds.

  “I see it! It’s like the camera moved,” Amanda said.

  Next to her, Mattie nodded. “But the camera can’t move, can it, Mr. Garlington?”

  “I see what you’re talking about, but it looks more like a digital speed bump to me,” Joe said.

  “Something causes speed bumps,” I argued.

  “Look. We—the Imagineers—have watched more footage than what you all are seeing, and we have it boiled down to just these important pieces. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “You would if you were us,” Amanda said brazenly. “Anything unusual has to be studied carefully. Is there a time stamp on the original?”

  Joe looked impressed. “I’ll tell you what: I’ll check the master. No stone unturned.”

  He left the room. The three of us didn’t say much. Not with our voices. Amanda’s eyes showed fatigue and worry. I studied sketches and random pieces of paper in my journal, hoping to find a clue. At some point, I lost track of time, caught up in my attempts to dream or imagine what we’d missed on the video.

  I didn’t get anywhere.

  Joe returned. I looked up at the wall clock and realized twenty minutes had passed. It shocked me.

  “You were right! You won’t like it, but here we go,” Joe said. “Your missing two minutes.” He pushed Play.

  My throat caught. Amanda gasped.

  On the computer screen, a figure entered the camera frame. A short woman. Seen in black and white, she was dark, her feet bare, her head a wild mass of hair. She wore multiple earrings and necklaces. She had tattoos.

  “That’s Tia Dalma,” Amanda said, barely audible.

  The creepy figure followed the route Finn had taken earlier and made a beeline for the music box. Reached around the side. Then, almost as if she sensed she were being watched, Tia Dalma turned and threw a spell at the camera.

  The screen went black.

  “I almost wish we hadn’t seen that,” I croaked out, my throat constricted and dry.

  AMANDA

  Joe ran from the conference room, leaving the freeze-frame of Tia Dalma on the screen. Mattie, Jess, and I exchanged glances.

  Jess said, “The voice. The bones burning. That was her. I just know it.”

  “You’re scaring me,” I said softly.

  “You didn’t hear this from me,” Mattie said. “But my reading of Joe didn’t go exactly as planned. I saw stuff I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted. Not on purpose! I want to make that clear. It just happened. I don’t know exactly what this means, but I think I can guess: the DNA test on those fragments of the burned bones came back as belonging to some prehistoric lizard.”

  I shook my head. “What does that even mean?”

  Mattie lowered her voice again. The air duct was louder than she was. “The word in his head was dragon.”

  I clamped my hand over my mouth and let out a muffled yip of terror. Then I cast a look at Jess and saw her eyes rolling back in her head. I reached out instinctively, caught her as she fainted. Mattie helped me get her onto the floor. We put her knees up, and Mattie put Jess’s head in her lap.

  Jess continued to breathe steadily. After a moment, her eyes fluttered open, and she sat up.

  “I don’t know that I can face her again. If that…thing…comes back, comes for me, for us, for the Keepers, I have no idea what I’ll do.”

  Mattie stroked her hair. “It’s only some burned bones. That’s all.”

  “She got them from Mexico. It’s a spell of some kind.”

  “Conjuring,” I said. “Technically, it’s conjuring.”

  “You’re a big help,” Mattie said, scolding me.

  Jess took a deep breath. “Whatever Finn and the Keepers are doing, wherever they’ve crossed over to, she wants to follow. That’s the only thing the missing video can mean. We have to warn him—them!—somehow.”

  “Good luck with that,” Mattie said. “They’re holograms, right? Lost holograms.”

  “It also means,” I said, heaping more fears on our pile, “that an Imagineer, or someone even higher up in Disney, edited the security tape.”

  Mattie went white. “If that’s true, that’s horrible.”

  “Why do you think Joe took off like a rocket?” I said.

  “He must be freaking out.”

  “I know I am,” said Jess.

  We both consoled her. My phone fell out of my pocket, and Jess picked it up. “You have two missed calls from Willa’s mom.”

  “Willa’s mom?” I said. I remembered the calls. “I was a little busy when she called. How do you know it’s Willa’s mom?”

  “Duh! Because I know the number from calling her house. You know me and numbers. So call her back,” Jess said indignantly.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “No fighting, you two!” Mattie’s outrage echoed off the walls of the soundproofed conference room.

  “What is it with us lately?” Jess sounded heartbroken.

  “We’re just stressed,” I said. “I’ll try harder.”

  “Me too.”

  I called Ms. Angelo back, and told her she was on speakerphone with the girls. As she spoke, her voice sounded a little desperate. My skin flushed.

  “I did what you asked. The imaging work on the photo of the crowd. Putting whatever faces I could up onto Facebook and trying to face match. I got a surprising number of hits. Surprising to me, anyway. Always on the kids, the younger faces. Sadly, not on many on the adults. Are you there?”

  “I’m not sure any of us are breathing,” I said.

  “Front row. Well, first or second. The head is clearly visible, and because it’s close to the front, there’s more image to work with. Past about the fourth row, there’s no way to work with those images in terms of Facebook matching. I improved the resolution throughout, but that’s the best I could do.”

  “I’m serious,” I said, “I’m not sure we’re breathing.”

  “It’s a teenage Wayne Kresky,” she said. “The face recognition program doesn’t discriminate for age. Wayne Kresky is definitely front and center in the second row. His daughter’s Facebook page has all sorts of pictures of him, and it was a solid hit.”

  “Opening day,” Mattie whispered.

  “I’ll text you a link to the enhanced image. It should come through on your phone. If you can get to a computer, you’ll see more. It’s improved a great deal.”

  I thanked her and we ended the call, promising to be in touch.

  Joe entered and shut the door brusquely. “My team is in agreement,” he said, not allowing us to speak. “Tia Dalma’s presence in the apartment can mean only one thing.”

  “She’s trying to follow Finn’s crossing over,” Mattie said.

  He looked at us as if we weren’t there, as if he must be dreaming.

  LUOWSKI

  I couldn’t tell if the Suits were the same guys from the church, but either way, I glowered at the thought of them defeating me. No one touches Greg Luowski! I was unbeatable! A tank.

  And yet…

  Looking around, I realized I sat in a van decked out like a military-like vehicle. Suits to my left and right, and three positioned across from me. My chest, as I inhaled, met with resistance. Metal restraints held my arms and legs to the side of the vehicle, while crossed heavy-duty polyester belts strapped my upper body to the wall and my legs to the seat.

  I could imagine her cold, unforgiving laughter before it turned to rage over me allowing myself to end up like this.

  I had to get out of here. But how? I could barely turn my neck
to the left, let alone take on the Suits in the back of the van with me.

  We’d been driving for hours. I’d heard the Suits mention Baltimore more than once, but I hadn’t done great in geology, or geography, and couldn’t remember if that was the capital of Idaho or where or what that was.

  Apparently I’d been traded for the Freaks, which threw me into yet another tantrum. One of the Suits threatened me with by displaying a Taser, and I calmed back down.

  The guy said, “Take it easy, kid. Where you’re going there’ll be other kids like you. Not exactly like you, but close enough. Most of the testing is easy. It hardly hurts at all.”

  I grunted. That didn’t sound too reassuring.

  Then a bolt of terror sent shock waves through me. Sweat prickled my skin. Did they consider me a freak like the Freaks? Seriously?

  I tried to explain it to them, but they had a gag on me. They had to listen!

  I had to get out of here, now!

  I wouldn’t make the mistake of trying something as soon as they took me out of the restraints. They’d expect that. No, I’d play along for a time. Greg Luowski didn’t take to the idea of imprisonment lightly.

  While they listened to the radio and looked at me like I was some kind of stray dog they’d collected from the side of the road, I made a plan.

  MATTIE

  “I’m supposed to try to reach him,” I said, disbelieving, “not read him?” Jess, Amanda and I had slept in. I felt half-human again. We were assembled with Joe in a bland room inside the Burbank studio lot that held all three comatose boys on cots. We were told some Imagineers were currently across town collecting Charlene.

  “We’re thinking that between his crossover and immediately after Amanda’s kiss, there ought to be some kind of mental gap for you to slip in,” Joe said. “You pass Finn the image of Tia Dalma. Not that I know what I’m talking about.”

  We all chuckled.

  “I’ve never tried to reach.”

  “I understand that.”

  “What if I can’t?”

  “We go to Plan B.”

  “Which is?” I asked.

  “To B determined!”

  Amanda groaned, making Joe laugh aloud at his own joke. An instant later, he apologized.

  “Seriously, though,” he said. “Guys, at this point, what’s there to lose?”

  JESS

  My job in all of this was to “dream” what was going through Finn’s head when Amanda kissed him. “I don’t know if I can force a dream. I’ve tried it before, but it’s pretty unreliable,” I warned.

  Forcing a future dream of mine was difficult enough. Forcing a future dream for someone else? I wasn’t even sure it was possible. Forget doing it on cue.

  Besides, I wasn’t positive I wanted to see Finn’s half of a kiss with Amanda. The thought of eavesdropping on something so personal made me uncomfortable at best.

  AMANDA

  Joe used his phone as the countdown clock. I watched the screen without blinking, which gave me an excuse for the tears that formed. Wherever Finn was, he needed me, needed us. At least for the next twelve hours, we had only this one chance.

  Being a professional, Joe hid his concern well, but there was no denying the truth. The presence of Tia Dalma in Walt’s apartment altered everything. The Keepers were no longer just missing; they were at risk. Not from a former school bully, but from a witch doctor capable of horrific crimes, including the murder of Dillard Cole and, as one of the leaders of the Overtakers, Wayne Kresky.

  It didn’t take a lot of imagination to wonder who would be next.

  Eleven fifty-nine.

  Memories, I often felt, were my friends. I could sometimes select which ones to view and which to ignore. But tonight, my memories of Finn and me became a stew of fun and fright. Every time I would think of something pleasant, Maleficent, Judge Frollo, or a tiger would jump into my brain and scare me half to death. All of the Keepers’ stories lived inside me.

  Joe’s plan, for my kiss to “shock” Finn at the moment of crossover, filled me with hope and dread in equal measure. For one thing, I had no idea whether or not it could possibly work. More worryingly, what if it did work, but I shocked him at the wrong moment? If we’d had the slightest clue as to where he and the other Keepers had crossed over, things would have been easier. But in that moment, I was terrified.

  Ten…nine…eight…

  I leaned over and hovered my lips above his. Not long ago, it would have made me nervous—the idea of kissing him—but now it was different. I thought about Sleeping Beauty. I thought about Disney. I thought about “true love’s kiss.”

  Our lips barely touched. I felt a small shock, almost like electricity.

  His eyes came open.

  I screamed.

  MATTIE

  As Amanda leaned in to kiss Finn, I grabbed his hand, summoned my strength, and reached.

  I envisioned Tia Dalma and thrust the image out of me, like shouting a word. Finn’s fingers moved. I screamed, dropped his hands, and nearly passed out.

  Then, taking a deep breath, I cracked an eye open just in time to see Finn’s body twitch. I had no idea if I’d caused that or if Amanda had, but I liked what I saw.

  A twitch. And if I wasn’t imagining it: a scowl on his otherwise placid face.

  JESS

  As the clock struck midnight, a flash of light flooded my vision. I was vaguely aware of Mattie muttering “Tia Dalma”—and then I was swallowed up in a flood of images.

  Wayne, but a young Wayne, the young man we’d seen in the picture, stood in front of some kind of submarine, which filled the background behind him.

  That image was replaced by Amanda’s face. Then nothing.

  AMANDA

  “I think it worked,” Jess told Joe. She described a flash of light and what she’d seen, including my face.

  “I didn’t see any submarine,” Mattie said. Her voice told me she questioned Jess’s report.

  I didn’t say anything. Finn’s eyes opening and closing had dropped me to the floor, bawling. I felt horrible for being so emotional. But in that moment, he had seen me, and I’d seen him, and I didn’t care what anybody said about it. I knew what I knew.

  Joe sounded put off as he addressed Jess. “You’re saying you saw young Wayne and a submarine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you draw it? The submarine?”

  “Of course she can draw it,” I answered for her.

  “I need paper,” Jess said. “A pencil or—”

  Joe extended a pen. “Right there on the sheet. That’s fine.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Please.”

  Jess began to sketch.

  JESS

  I sketched out the image on the sheet, narrating as I drew. “It was like a tube, but with a bulge on the top. And little circles along the sides. Windows, I suppose.” I completed my sketch. “I think it’s a submarine.”

  Joe came around the side of the bed. Disbelief spread across his face as he took in my sketch. “That’s impossible! That ride hasn’t been run forever.”

  I shrugged. I realized long ago that nothing was impossible.

  AMANDA

  Joe’s mention of “forever” prompted an image not of submarines, but of the blue soy can and its contents. Time.

  “The time capsule!” I whispered. Then, more loudly, “I’ll be right back!”

  I took off running. Downstairs. Along the empty streets of the backlot. Into our temporary dorm. I found my backpack. I dug out the soy can.

  Though tempted to dump its contents, I held myself back, repeating the Keepers’ credo to myself. Team first.

  More stairs. The same empty street. Climbing, out of breath, gasping. Finally, I burst into the Keepers’ dorm. Dropping to my knees, I spilled the contents of the can onto the floor in a messy pile and fished out the photo.

  “What’s going on?” Joe said.

  “Mandy,” Jess said, “we’ve looked at that stuff a hundred times.”


  “Reading glasses,” I said, addressing Joe. “Do you wear reading glasses?”

  “I have a magnifying app on my phone,” he said.

  So there we were, the four of us, on our knees around a bunch of ancient toys and a cigarette lighter, looking at the photo through Joe’s phone app.

  “Amanda,” Mattie said, as my eyes filled once more with tears. I wasn’t seeing anything new. But I’d been so sure! “The one Willa’s mom sent. Remember? She said it was higher resolution?”

  I felt like a bell had gone off in my head. I had my phone out and the photo open within seconds. My hands shook so badly Joe took it from me.

  “She said to use a bigger screen,” Jess reminded us.

  “This screen is fine,” Joe said.

  With the image greatly expanded, only a small piece of it showed on the screen. Joe moved it carefully from right to left, and then dragged it up.

  Screen by screen, we examined the photo. When we reached Wayne, we paused. At this resolution, you could actually see a vague resemblance to the older man we’d known. Joe stayed there a little longer than expected, perhaps flooded with his own memories.

  “More,” I said gently. “Maybe Wayne’s the only reason Finn gave us this, but I don’t know…the minute you said forever, something told me we were supposed to study every inch of the photo.”

  And so we did, with no complaints. Screen by screen. Carefully. Scientifically. Joe in control. For ten or even fifteen minutes I felt frozen.

  A long time ago, Wayne told us that the best place to hide things is out in the open. We’d looked at the photo too many times to count, but never at this resolution, this definition.

  Joe wasn’t moving the screen anymore. He’d landed on a spot well back in the dense crowd. Children waving. Adults posing. American flags. Mickey Mouse ear hats.

  The Kingdom Keepers.

  There was no questioning it. This was them. Side by side. Cheering.

  Joe mentioned something about Photoshop, but his voice gave him away—he didn’t believe that any more than we did.