Disney in Shadow (26 page)

They both turned to look at Philby, who was now three-quarters of the way across the wire. Three more steps and Finn called out. “Open your eyes!”

Philby’s eyes popped open and he jumped off the wire and onto the canopy. “Piece of cake,” he said.

With Philby in the middle, Maybeck on one end, and Finn on the other, on a count of three, the boys took hold of the lowest arm of the mobile. Finn moved slightly toward the center and the arm leveled out. Maybeck kicked out, and the mobile began spinning.

The next lowest arm swung above them. Finn reached and steadied it. “On three!” he said.

They climbed the mobile as if it were a jungle gym, from one arm to the next, and reached the top. Finn and Maybeck climbed through opposite openings in the projection booth and then joined to pull Philby through yet another. As Philby had discovered, there was a roof-access emergency exit, much like the one they had found in Space Mountain, so long ago now that it felt like a dream.

Out on the roof, in the night air, there was no time for celebration.

Looking down, they saw nothing: the lions and Gigabyte had apparently chased the others across the plaza, or had gone off looking for them. The boys descended the fire escape ladder to the ground and took off through the jungle toward the Living Seas.

“When my eyes were shut,” Philby said, as they ran side by side. “When I was on that wire—”

“Yeah?” Maybeck said.

“I figured it out. Wayne’s message.”

“You’re telling me…” Maybeck said breathlessly, “that while you were
tightroping
you were working things out?”

“It’s not like I’ve had a lot of free time,” Philby complained.

“Figured
what
out?” Finn said, struggling to keep up with the other two.

“What connects Mission: Space, Test Track, and Soarin’. What connects what each of us found: you and I, Maleficent; the girls, that maintenance journal; you and Charlene,” he said to Maybeck, “Wayne’s video.”

“And?” Finn said, huffing.

“Seat belts.”

“Huh?” Maybeck grunted.

“The Overtakers are targeting rides with seat belts. Maintenance problems on Soarin’. Finn would have been killed by being stuck in that Test Track car if he hadn’t been able to go all-clear.”

“Seat belts,” Maybeck said, with obvious cynicism.

“I think their plan is to hold hundreds of guests hostage by locking them into seat belts that won’t come undone. Trapping them on rides. Making the rides do dangerous things they aren’t supposed to—just like what happened to all of us. Maybe they plan to make demands. Maybe they just plan to hurt everyone. But if we don’t stop them at Fantasmic!—if we don’t change things—bad stuff is going to happen. The seat belts are going to fail—that’s the message. That’s what Wayne found out.”

Finn, aching over the loss of Wayne, suddenly found his legs. He didn’t just catch up with his friends, he ran past them. It wasn’t only Philby’s discovery that put a fire under him, or the near miss at saving Wayne, but something much bigger.

The sky was beginning to soften in the east.

Morning was fast approaching.

T
HE MEETING AT THE
rendezvous had gone quickly. Everyone was overtired, irritable, and anxious. Finn had found himself sitting on a couch in the Nemo lounge next to Amanda and, as the discussion had dragged on, she’d reached down and found his hand and given it a squeeze. It was a small gesture of confidence, but to Finn he imagined this was what drinking a double-shot espresso latte must be like. His fatigue vaporized; his heart raced out of control.

With his racing heart came racing thoughts. Amanda had opened some creative gate in his brain and a dozen ideas came spilling out, most of them finding their way to his tongue. For a moment he babbled at the others, having little idea what he was actually saying. Then a memory popped into his head and he realized that this was where his mind had been leading him for the past several minutes.

“Five
AM
,” he blurted out, interrupting Philby who was, for the third time, attempting to explain why he believed the Overtakers planned to take park guests as hostages. But Finn had won the attention of everyone in the room, and went quickly about explaining himself.

“When I got stuck at the Studios I kind of hitched a ride with some Imagineers—at least I think they were Imagineers. One of the guys was the pyrotechnics crew chief, a guy named Pete. He was talking to the driver and mentioned that all this week they were doing run throughs of Fantasmic! at five
AM
. He was bummed because he had to get up so early to be there.”

“That would make sense,” said Philby, ever the philosopher. “It would have to be dark to conduct a tech rehearsal of Fantasmic! with all the projectors and fireworks and lighting. They wouldn’t need all the Cast Members, but maybe there’d be some. And they certainly couldn’t have anyone in the audience in case something went wrong with whatever they’re testing.”

“It’s our chance,” Finn said. “No audience. Maleficent and Chernabog using it to hide. They act out the parts and the rest of the day no one bothers them.”

“We attack them there,” Maybeck said.

“On their turf,” Philby said. “I don’t love that.”

“It’s where it’s supposed to happen,” Finn said, resigned to the idea. “Wayne told us as much. The sorcerer’s hat. The symbol I found scratched into the chair. He wants us to challenge them at Fantasmic!”

“He wants us to defeat them,” Philby said, correcting him. “
You
to defeat them.”

“Us,” Finn said. “Even if I’m the one carrying the sword, it’s going to take all of us.”

“And how exactly are any of us supposed to get there?” Maybeck asked.

“He’s right,” Philby said. “The monorail and buses don’t start running until two hours before opening. That’s seven in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Finn said, “but Pete has to be there. And so does his buddy, the driver.” He checked his watch: 4:24
AM
. “We can still make it.”

* * *

Locating a pickup truck with a bobblehead Mickey Mouse on the dash in such short order required them to split up. They kept their direct-connect phones at the ready as they snuck backstage. The “backstage” side of Epcot, as at the other parks, looked entirely different from the side the public saw: flat-roofed, steel-framed buildings housed the rides and attractions, the food storage, the costume and prop storage, the maintenance and administration facilities. There were large parking areas and a network of roads connecting it all. The kids fanned out to search for the pickup truck.

Word soon came over the phone intercoms that Willa had found the pickup near some cream-colored containers behind China. Finn and Amanda caught up to her quickly, followed a few minutes later by Philby, who brought a tarp with him that he’d borrowed from another vehicle. Charlene arrived out of breath, saying she’d seen Maybeck and Jess heading in the opposite direction, toward America.

“I think Maybeck might have gotten turned around,” Charlene said. “I don’t think he knew where he was going.”

It didn’t surprise Finn. It was not only dark but the back of the park was totally unfamiliar. All the buildings looked the same, and there were very few signs.

Finn was about to check on Maybeck when a man appeared from a trailer who Finn recognized as the driver. The man moved toward them and the pickup truck.

“Turn your radios off,” Finn whispered, fearing they might be overheard if Maybeck suddenly called.

“What do we do?” Willa asked.

“We’re too late,” Finn whispered. “We needed to be in the back of that—”

The man patted his coat and turned around, returning to the trailer.

“This is our shot,” Philby said.

The moment the man entered the trailer, the kids took off running. They climbed up into the truck bed and pulled the tarp over them. It was dark enough out, and early enough, that Finn hoped the guy wouldn’t notice the tarp. Less than a minute later, he felt the truck rock as the driver climbed in and started the engine. Again Amanda found his hand and held on.

There was still the chance that Maybeck and Jess would find their way to the Studios. Finn considered calling Wanda and asking her for help, and the more he considered this, the more he thought it a good idea. Wayne had mentioned his daughter on the video Charlene and Maybeck had seen. Maybe she would know something about Fantasmic! or be able to help them in some way.

Finn couldn’t see much in the darkness under the tarp. He texted the others, warning them that once out of Epcot they would be in DHI shadow and would remain so until near or inside Disney Hollywood Studios.

As the pickup arrived at the Hollywood Studios Security checkpoint Finn’s warning proved critical: the guard pulled back the tarp to have a look. The Kingdom Keepers held their breath and remained perfectly still.

“Funny,” a guard said, presumably to another guard, “the way it was bunched up like that I could have sworn there was something underneath.”

“You think too much,” a lower voice said. “I’ve told you that before: don’t think so much.”

“We’re supposed to think, you jerk,” the first guard said. “How are we supposed to keep this place safe if we’re not thinking?”

“You’re trying to trick me. Just by asking me that, you’re making me think. I know your type.”

The guard left the tarp in a heap at the back of the truck, exposing Finn and the others. Finn understood the risk that presented: at any time they could come within range of the DHI projectors; when they did they would reappear, and if the driver happened to look back…

The truck rumbled and rolled slowly out of the gate.

“Jump,” Finn said.

“What?”

“No time to argue. Jump!” He stood and leaped over the side. As he was in midair, his DHI sparkled, first in black and white and then in full color. He landed feet first on the pavement, but was thrown off balance by his forward momentum and went down hard. Like salmon leaping from a mountain stream, the other DHIs jumped: first Amanda, who had not questioned Finn for a second. Then Charlene and Willa and finally Philby.

The brake lights on the pickup truck lit up bright red—the driver had felt something and was stopping.

“The ditch!” Finn called out, as he rolled off the asphalt into the grass and down into a dry ditch meant to carry off rainwater. The others quickly did the same. He didn’t dare lift his head to see if the driver was coming over toward them. All he could do was stay perfectly still and hope.

And hope.

Through the chirping of cicadas and the hum of electric power, Finn thought he heard the sound of the tarp being moved around. The driver knew he hadn’t put the tarp in the truck in the first place. Maybe he hadn’t felt them jump from the truck; maybe it had just finally registered that Studio Security had looked under a tarp in the back of his truck. If he’d seen them and now pursued them over to the ditch they would have no choice but to run. It would create big problems for them—park Security would be alerted, and with the testing at Fantasmic! being the only event that was probably taking place at this early hour, their ability to infiltrate the attraction would likely be compromised.

They had no choice but to lie there and await their fate.

At last they heard the door shut and the truck rumble off. Finn directed the group behind an outbuilding. Amanda had gotten Wanda’s phone number from the visit she had paid to Mrs. Nash’s house, but she didn’t have it in her phone’s contact list. It turned out not to matter, because Philby had Wanda’s number memorized, though no one knew how he’d gotten it in the first place. That was the thing about Philby: you learned not to ask.

Finn apologized for waking Wanda up and then attempted to explain their situation. She stopped him several times, whenever he mentioned her father—first in the Mission: Space video, then in person at Wonders. She agreed to pick up Maybeck and Jess, saying she could meet them at Epcot. She offered to get Maybeck a Studio Cast Member Security uniform if possible, and said she’d have Jess come dressed as one of the cast of Fantasmic!

With everyone now accounted for, Finn felt better. He led the four others deeper into the backstage area of the Studios. The Fantasmic! technical rehearsal was scheduled to start in less than five minutes. As they walked, Philby caught up to Finn and Amanda.

“Why do you suppose they’d be conducting technical rehearsals on a show that’s been playing for so many years?” Philby asked. “Have you thought about that?”

“I just assumed…” Finn said. But he didn’t finish his thought. “You’re saying it has something to do with the Overtakers?”

“What else? Something is disrupting the show. Tech rehearsals are all about the effects—the timing, the lighting, the music, entrance cues. It could have been what got Wayne going. Right? He hears a rumor about Fantasmic! having problems. The problems came on recently and aren’t going away. The first few attempts to fix them don’t work, so they schedule a whole week of tech rehearsals to strip the show down and build it back up, scene by scene, minute by minute.”

It made sense to Finn. “Okay. But he went missing way before now, way before these rehearsals.”

“But the first time Jess gets one of her telepathic visions was this week. Right now. Because he knew something no one else did: if we were going to stop them with the least risk to the audience, we had to do it now, when the rehearsals are going on. The genius of Maleficent and Chernabog hiding at Fantasmic!—if that’s even what they’re doing—is that the only time anyone’s around that place, there are like five thousand guests hanging out. Who’s going to put them at risk?”

“The genius of them hiding there,” Finn corrected him, “is that they
belong
there. All they have to do is stash an Auto-Animatronic figure or a Cast Member or two and then take their place. Who’s to know? Who looks that closely at Maleficent? It’s probably dark backstage. From out front she’s pretty far away and not very big. Green skin. Weird chin. Who’s going to pull her aside and ask for a Disney ID anyway?”

“So what you’re saying, Philby,” said Amanda, “is that they aren’t tech rehearsals at all. They’re more like exorcisms. The Disney people are actually searching for Overtakers in hopes of finding them and locking them up, or whatever they do with them?”

“If they know what they’re up against,” Philby said, “then that’s exactly what they’re doing. But—”

“If they don’t know what they’re up against…” Finn said.

“—then everybody involved in those rehearsals is in danger,” Amanda said. “Including us.”

“Most definitely including us,” Philby said.

Finn said, “The Imagineers will want to lock them up and
study
them. If anyone’s going to take them on, if anyone’s going to try to stop them permanently it’s going to be…us.”

The word died on the tip of his tongue. Amanda could have corrected him; Philby could have corrected him. Finn reached down and touched the grip of the sword.

Why had Wayne put him in charge, anyway? Why couldn’t it be Maybeck with the sword, or Philby with his encyclopedic knowledge of famous Disney sword battles? Why him? The answer came to him indirectly, as it so often did. He had been the first one to cross over; the first one to meet Wayne; he was still the only one who could all-clear nearly at will. He was the one because Wayne had chosen him. There it was, as simple as he could break it down. Asking why Wayne had chosen him would only send him running in circles right back to the fact that Wayne
had
chosen him. He needed to stop questioning it and start doing something about it. His hand gripped the sword so tightly that, just for a moment, his fingers appeared bloodless, his knuckles white, the sword’s grip welded to his hand. At one with it.

“I can do this,” he heard slip past his own lips. As faint as a whisper, not something anyone heard—or so he hoped. But Amanda shot him a fearful and sympathetic look that said otherwise. At the very least she had heard; at the very least one other person knew his deepest fear.

Willa and Charlene caught up to them.

“Assignments?” Philby asked. That was another thing: when they’d first come together as a group, everyone was constantly jockeying for control, trying to come up with a better idea, a better plan. Now only Maybeck voiced that kind of discontent, and even so, less and less. Philby wasn’t telling, he was asking; and no one but Finn would be expected to answer.

“Give us the layout,” Finn said. Maybe that was why Wayne had chosen him: because he understood the value of each Kingdom Keeper, knew when to seek advice.

“A control room. Seating for several thousand. Two acres of water with a channel down the middle and a natural-gas pipe running just under the surface. A flotilla of a dozen barges. A multitiered performance stage complete with various trapdoors, zip lines, stunt pillows, all over five stories high, including another three stories below stage level with multiple staircases, dressing rooms and enough pyrotechnics on hand to be monitored by the federal government.”

“Sounds…dangerous,” Amanda said.

“Sounds big,” said Willa.

Philby, hearing their comments, snapped his head toward Amanda, then shot Finn an intense look.