The Return: Disney Lands (14 page)

G
IVEN THAT
W
ILLA WAS
one half of
the “Wilby” pair, she proved
susceptible to Philby’s pleading for help. He’d asked her to cross over with Finn as far as the King Arthur Carrousel, but no further, to observe in real time what the Imagineers had
seen on video. In particular, she was to take a close look at Finn’s arms the moment he reappeared on Jingles.

Provided he did reappear.

Finn’s recollection of red eyes lurking
in shadow, along with the food poisoning incident at their Keepers event, suggested that somehow, impossible though it might seem, the Overtakers
had been rejuvenated. Though he felt it was implausible, the potential threat contributed to Philby’s decision to carry out their mission during park hours, when an outright attack was less
likely.

Because of the phenomenon of the “lint” and
“oil” and Finn’s disappearance from Jingles, the team decided to cross over in the early evening, after dark, but before
park closing. The following day Willa and Finn woke early in order to be tired enough to fall asleep that evening. Once crossed over into Disneyland’s Central Plaza, they headed to
Walt’s apartment. Willa wrote a message in ink on his DHI forearm.

Where am I? What is
the date?

Finn wound the music box tight and started the calliope melody. Hurrying to King Arthur Carrousel, he cheated by passing his DHI through the retaining fence, allowing him to cut the
twenty-minute line of guests waiting to board the ride. On the carousel, he stood by Jingles, waited for the platform to start moving, and climbed onto the horse. He felt like he was standing at
the
start line of a huge race, his breath short, his heart in his throat.

From the sidelines, Willa noted the time as eight fifty p.m. She moved as best she could through the crowds, trying to circle the carousel and keep an eye on Finn. But the golden horse outpaced
her, and she lost sight of him.

Below the ride’s colorful insignia, above the bobbing horses, she saw an anomaly on the far
side of the carousel. For a split second, it looked like a cracked mirror, the reflection
divided into fragmented pieces. It did, in fact, look like a piece of lint or hair on a movie theater screen.

In the blink of an eye, it was gone, leaving only an oily texture to the air, like heat shimmering off the sidewalk. That, too, melted away, returning clarity of sight.

It all happened so
fast that Willa wasn’t sure she’d seen anything at all. Not until the carousel came back around and the golden horse stood empty, its rider gone.

A chill struck her, running up her spine. At first, Willa attributed it to Finn’s disappearance. But it echoed throughout her body, down her arms, and through her fingers, tickling her
toes. She recognized it as the chill of fear. She knew in a
sickening instant that someone was watching her.

W
ILLA FELT SICK.
It went beyond creepy.
It felt dirty and ugly and if it could have smelled, it would have
smelled sour and foul.

Finn’s disappearance went right out of her head. Taking a deep breath and turning to face Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, she knew the feeling came from there. It was, in fact, one of the
darkest of the park’s so-called “dark rides,” an aimless car trip of destruction that ended in arrest and punishment at
the gates of hell. Not exactly kiddie fare.

A flash of red eyes sent more shivers through her. The devil. It had to be! The location, red glowing eyes peering out from shadow—what else?

But she was being ridiculous. The spike of terror triggered both a loss of all clear and a second, somehow more scalding realization: the Overtakers! She and the Keepers had so easily dismissed
Finn’s
suggestions, had chalked them up to the ranting of a grief-stricken boy desperate to cling to the excitement and dangers of the recent past.

It had all been so easy to make fun of. Until now.

If she was right, this was huge. Willa wanted to prove it. She wanted to prevent whatever, whoever this was from hurting Finn when he returned.

She relaxed back to all clear. As a hologram, even
a version 1.6, there was little chance of her being harmed if she kept her head.

Charged with determination, she shed her concern, marched over to Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, and entered the empty waiting queue area.
This was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. She shouldn’t have been alone. It was dark. She grimaced
with every step.
⁴

Had she been less determined, less singularly focused, she might have noticed the old-fashioned policeman string a rope across the entry behind her, closing the ride.

She reached the boarding area quickly. No Cast Members.

“Hello?”

No answer.

Willa climbed into the waiting car. Though there was no Cast Member at the control stand, the car took off right on
schedule. Made no sense. Panic rose in Willa’s gut as the safety bar
slid into place—but too far, too tight!

She pushed against it. Trapped! Willa’s fear had solidified her hologram; she was pinned to the bench. The car swung through the parting doors ahead, into a dark library where a
blue-bearded man threw books at her—actual books. They hit her, and they hurt. That wasn’t supposed to
happen.

The car jerked quickly to the left. A full suit of armor raised its arm and lowered a battle-ax. Willa, still pinned by the bar, leaned left. The battle-ax cut a slice of the car’s plastic
siding away. In spite of herself, she screamed.

No! Stop.
She reminded herself to push away fear and concern, which were the real enemy of any version 1.6 hologram. But how to do so when she
was being jerked and threatened at every
turn? The chandelier overhead swayed back and forth, disorienting her.

Suddenly, a bright blue policeman loomed up before her, hand outstretched in warning, and took a swing at her chest. His nightstick smacked her on the arm. Willa cried out. Pinned to the seat.
Pitch-black. Another cop leaped forward. He, too, was alive, not the cartoon he should
have been. Their faces were terrifying; there was no way for Willa to calm herself. The bar continued to pin
her to the seat.

Jerking along the tracks, the car spun into a room of stacked wooden barrels and crates that collapsed forward, falling onto her. The car bumped and jerked and plowed on, but too late: Willa had
been hit on the head.

Dazed, hurting, she called out: “Stop! The!
Ride!”

The car shot ahead. Horrific colors and explosions erupted around her—
BAM! BOOM!—
reflecting how her head felt. A train locomotive aimed at her car, threatening a head-on
collision. Willa closed her eyes and focused until feeling the tingles of being a pure hologram again.

She leaned forward, and moved the restraining bar through her middle.

The train hit her car head-on, smashing
it to bits.

The ride’s emergency lights switched on. Harsh shadows flickered around her. Willa scrambled and hid just as the set of red eyes reappeared. She cupped her hands over her mouth to keep
from screaming. She worked to keep herself pure hologram, hoping her faint blue outline wouldn’t give her away.

The eyes blinked.

Deep breath, Willa told herself.

The emergency lights
continued flashing on the ceiling. Running footsteps approached. The glowing eyes withdrew.

Willa spotted an exit sign and crawled toward it, not wanting to explain herself or the destruction to the ride.

Overtakers…

There was no other explanation.

F
ROM THE MOMENT
W
ILLA
emerged from
what she’d now be calling Mr.
Toad’s
Disastrous
Ride, she found herself warmed by the magic of Disneyland. Though she was nowhere near as familiar with this park as she was with Disney World’s Magic
Kingdom, she found herself reveling in the joy and excitement of the guests. It was the perfect balm after her death-defying ride in Mr. Toad’s car—and a huge relief from the renewed
terror of
the Overtakers.

She carefully watched the carousel for any sign of Finn. Jingles was occupied on every new run. Keeping her hologram back to the wall directly beneath where she believed the security camera was
located, Willa poked at the bruises on her arms, worried they would carry over when she returned. She was going to look a mess.

Still, she was buoyed by a sense of accomplishment
at having defied Mr. Toad’s devilish intentions—and determined to remain on high alert for other attacks. Finn’s report of
the red eyes watching him took on new meaning. What if a character from Mr. Toad’s was an Overtaker keeping watch on the carousel?

But for what? For whom? And most importantly:
why?

Casting her eyes about the crowd, Willa caught a glimpse of a stranger’s wristwatch.
Twenty minutes had passed since Finn’s disappearance. She surveyed the area again, spotting a
pair of men she knew to be Cryptologists, members of a secretive Imagineering group. Responsible for monitoring the Overtakers, their presence at the carousel could not be considered coincidence.
Neither could their staring at her.

They, too, were awaiting Finn’s return.

This made things more
complicated. First, the appearance of an Overtaker threat in Mr. Toad’s. Now, Finn’s allies wanting a piece of him. It all seemed to support Finn’s
claims, claims that she and the other Keepers had been mocking for weeks. Months!

Riven by guilt, feeling like the worst of all possible friends, Willa schemed out what to do next. As much as she and the Keepers valued the Cryptos, she wanted
to protect Finn from them.
Hurry up!
she urged silently, shouting the words in her mind, sensing time was working against them. She’d left Mr. Toad’s devil none too happy. If he were keeper of the
carousel, he might have plans of his own for Finn.

When one of the Cryptos started toward her, Willa moved away. The Keepers weren’t allowed to use DHI technology without the Imagineers’ permission.
Philby had been crossing them over
for years illegally. He’d even built them their own Return for these manual crossings. At a distance, the Crypto wouldn’t be able to ascertain Willa’s current state, but if he got
close enough, the faint blue 1.6 outline would give her away. Everyone would be in trouble.

Waiting parents and families formed a human apron around King Arthur Carrousel, providing
Willa with good cover. She moved between people, using them like tree trunks in the forest, keeping
screens between herself and the Crypto coming after her. All this while still rising frequently to her tiptoes to keep an eye on Jingles.

A flash of movement—as if there weren’t enough on her plate. Pain and Panic were visible in the near distance, also circling in toward her. Minions of Hades—a.k.a.,
the
Devil—she couldn’t recall ever having seen them as characters in the parks.
So why now?
Willa was fairly certain she knew the answer, but it wasn’t an answer she wanted.
If her DHI could be made to panic, she would be vulnerable.

Willa dealt with these many variables as a juggler would—she kept her eye on one thing, allowing practice to take care of the rest. She kept her attention
on Jingles, and her optimistic
expectation that Finn would soon return.