F
INN CLIMBED BACK UP
the fire rope to his bedroom window, while below him, barely seen, Amanda waited for him, straddling his mother’s mountain bike, which he’d loaned her.
His mission was to get hold of his father’s BlackBerry; to make sure his parents didn’t worry about him or question where he’d gone; and to borrow his little sister’s DS for Amanda, who didn’t own one.
He reached his parents’ bedroom on tiptoe and quietly opened the door. His mother was snoring; his father lay on his side facing the window. The clock on his mother’s end table read 4:08 AM.
He found his father’s dresser in the dark and patted around, searching for his BlackBerry. On Saturdays, his father only took his phone if he went on an extended errand. Finn could only hope that his father had no such errands planned. If he did, and he looked for his phone, he wasn’t going to find it.
He returned to his mother’s side of the bed and quietly turned the clock so that it faced away from the bed, where it couldn’t be read by his mother. Then he gently shook her awake. She was a heavy sleeper, and he was counting on her not coming fully awake.
“Mom…”
Her eyes squinted open, saw him, and then shut again.
“Finn,” she complained.
“It’s just after six,” he lied, wishing he didn’t have to. “I’m going on my bike over to the skate park. Might go to Blizzard Beach later. I’ll call.”
“Don’t forget sunscreen.” She opened her eyes a little more and looked for the clock, but she made no effort to turn it around. This he’d been counting on.
“I’ll call,” he repeated.
There was precedent here: early Saturday morning rides at the skate park were part of his routine. Bikes weren’t allowed in the half pipe after 9 AM on weekends. He often got up early and returned for a late breakfast. By adding the bit about Blizzard Beach—a favorite among his friends—he’d bought himself the rest of the day.
“Take your father’s phone,” she said, rolling over.
“Ah…okay,” he said, his hand tapping his pocket.
He put away the fire-escape rope and left the house by the back door, joining Amanda and climbing onto his bike.
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Worked out great. I’m good to go for the rest of the day.”
“Your parents let you leave the house at four in the morning?”
“Not exactly. But we’re cool.”
Had he looked overhead he might have felt otherwise: hanging upside down from the gutter of his house, the large bat with the blue tint on its wings dropped free and flew away. Flapping frantically, it circled just above the two bikes as they sped off down the empty street, red safety lights flashing in the dark.
T
HE FOOD-SERVICE STEP VAN
had double tires in the back and mud flaps that carried silhouettes of silver mouse ears on their black rubber.
The man behind the wheel had florid cheeks, blue eyes, and bushy eyebrows. He spoke in a deep voice to Finn, who pulled the passenger door open.
“Everyone in back. Find places to hide in case they check back there.” He popped open his door. “It’ll be pitch black in there once I pull that door down, so hurry!”
Finn rushed the others into the back. They climbed up into a refrigerated area of cardboard boxes filled with fresh fruits and vegetables stacked onto wooden pallets and strapped to the walls. Each stack offered a place to hide behind. The kids doubled up. Charlene and Willa hid behind a tower of raspberry and strawberry flats. Maybeck and Philby ducked behind the lettuce, leaving Finn and Amanda to press into a small space behind six stacked boxes of carrots.
“Okay,” the driver said. “That’s good. Stay like that. All set?”
The door came down hard, with a bang of finality. It was dark as a cave inside. The refrigerator unit up near the cab wheezed loudly as it blew an icy wind, freezing them.
“Dang…” Maybeck said. “This is how I always imagined prison.”
“What if one of us is afraid of the dark?” Charlene asked timidly.
“Then she should hold on to Willa, Charlene,” said Maybeck.
“I didn’t say it was me!” Charlene said.
“Right,” said Maybeck.
The truck grumbled and groaned as it lurched around a series of corners toward the back side of the Animal Kingdom. Pretty soon its brakes squealed to a stop. Finn and the others had been in the same situation before—at the reinforced, militarylike security gates at the back of the Magic Kingdom. He could picture the guards outside. Supplies and merchandise and employees came through these entrances. The driver’s credentials were checked, manifests and work schedules cross-referenced. The kids heard some talking through the shell, though the words were indiscernible. Then a single
thump.
The Dapper Dan had elbowed the back wall of the cab, trying to warn his passengers.
“I dropped my purse,” Charlene announced in a harsh whisper. “I can’t find it! I can’t find my purse.”
Finn knew that if Security saw a purse, they would probably climb up into the back of the truck to retrieve it. And if so, then they’d spot the kids.
“I can’t see!” she hissed again.
Sounds of the door hardware rattled at the back of the truck. The back door was definitely about to be lifted.
“My purse…” Charlene moaned.
Finn stepped out from behind the stack of carrots. Amanda reached out to stop him, but she was too late.
He felt around the floor.
Nothing.
Then he remembered his father’s BlackBerry. He pulled it out of his pocket and hit a button on the keypad, and the screen came to life like a flashlight.
Charlene’s arm shot out from behind a stack of boxes, and she grabbed hold of her purse. It vanished.
The door rolled open a crack. Finn shoved the BlackBerry into his pocket, snuffing its light. His knees didn’t flex. He didn’t move. He just stood there. Light flooded into the back of the truck. He turned, but it was too late. The door continued up.
In an instant everything changed: he was suddenly pasted to the ceiling—floating—hidden by the rolling door, which was carried on tracks like a garage door.
“Clear,” one of the Security guys announced.
Finn sank toward the truck bed. From the light of the BlackBerry he saw Amanda facing him, her arm extended. As her arm fell, so did Finn.
The back door clattered shut and the
clunk
of hardware confirmed they were locked inside again.
“You did that!” he said, accusing Amanda.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” she whispered.
“You saved us,” he said.
“That was way cool, Finn,” said Maybeck. “You mind telling me how you did that?”
Amanda whispered warmly into Finn’s ear. “No…not yet.”
Finn said into the dark: “Ah…I could show you, but I’d have to kill you.”
Maybeck chuckled.
“I want some, too,” added Philby.
“Later, dudes,” said Finn.
Again, he felt Amanda’s breath warm against his neck as she whispered softly, “Thank you.”
He wanted to say something, but his voice had gone dry, and he couldn’t get a word out.
A
MOMENT AFTER
the truck finally pulled to a stop, the Dapper Dan climbed up inside and then lowered the garagelike door behind himself, leaving it open just enough to admit some light from the nearby light poles.
“This is as far as I go with the truck. Finn gave each of you an assignment, as I understand it.”
“I’ve got a pretty good handle on the tech side of the Park,” Philby said. “There are cameras all over the place, some for Security, some for the Park visitors. Basically, we won’t be alone wherever we go. But there’s a very cool element to this I think we should consider.” He glanced around at the group. Charlene was trying to wipe a smudge off her clothes, but everyone else was paying strict attention to him. “Out at Conservation Station—which everyone in the Park calls ‘CS,’ by the way—is a bank of camera monitors that are interactive. Visitors can actually move and zoom the cameras, searching for animals and that kind of thing. But I think they give us a real good opportunity to monitor what’s going on.”
“That could be my job,” Amanda said, volunteering. “If no one else wants it,” she added carefully.
Everyone nodded.
“Other than that,” Philby said, swinging his backpack around and reaching inside, “I got nothin’.”
“Is anyone going to explain to me why I brought along my DS?” Charlene asked.
“The Parks all have free Wi-Fi,” Philby said, as if this answered her.
“Yeah? So?” she said.
“So I’ve set-up a D-Gamer chat room so we can IM each other,” he explained. “It’s totally secure. No one can eavesdrop.”
“A D-what?” she asked.
“D-Gamer,” he said. “Let me show you.” Philby took her DS from her and changed her settings to allow Wi-Fi access. Then he showed her how to enter D-Gamer mode. Turning on his own DS, he typed a message to her. An alert appeared on her screen and she answered it. Then he switched devices with her and sent one from her device to his.
“How totally awesome,” she said, marveling. Taking back her own DS, she sent Philby a text message:
angelface13: i never knew it could do that.
philitup: it’s a new feature, added last spring.
Finn set up his sister’s DS for Amanda. Philby had invited them all to join the private chat, and soon they were all texting back and forth.
The Dapper Dan cleared his throat to stop them, and they put their Nintendos away. He asked if they knew their way around the Park. “I’m acquainted with the layout,” Willa said, piping up. She handed out maps for each of them. “Basically there are five areas—Asia, Africa, Camp Minnie-Mickey, and DinoLand USA. These four surround a lake that holds the fifth, Discovery Island, in the middle—the Tree of Life, some food stalls, and shopping. I don’t know our plan, if we have one, but there are five of us, not counting Amanda, and five areas. Seems pretty obvious.”
“And I’ll be watching you from the Conservation Station,” said Amanda, reminding everyone.
“In terms of costumes,” Charlene said, “the best thing we could do is just dress as rangers or animal care. Either light green or dark green short-sleeve shirts and shorts. It would be best if we could get the real thing, but I don’t see how that’ll happen.”
“That will happen because I’m going to help you,” the driver said. “Cast Members are now responsible for their own uniforms. But there’s a costuming shed that used to be for outfitting everyone. Now it’s more of a storage facility and costume-repair facility, but I can get you in there.”
Finn said, “Here’s what I suggest: Willa will be a conservation ranger; Maybeck an animal-care worker; Amanda, Philby, and I stay dressed as we are. Charlene…you get the tricky one.”
“Which is?” she asked, finally looking up from the smudge.
“DeVine.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“The character,” Willa corrected. “He wasn’t giving you a compliment!”
“Who knew?” Charlene asked.
“I thought your cheerleading experience might make you a better gymnast than the rest of us. DeVine walks on huge stilts and dresses in total camouflage so that it’s almost impossible to see her. Can you use stilts?”
“I’ve used stilts before, though not real high ones.”
“These are real high,” said Willa.
“There are four complete DeVine outfits,” the driver explained. “But I’ve got to warn you: DeVine enters the Park at ten, twelve, two, and four. If two DeVines are seen in the Park at the same time, that will alert Security. So if you do this, you’ll need to hide deep within the jungle when the real DeVine is in the Park.”
They were all staring at Charlene.
“Will you do it?” Finn asked.
“What’s the costume like?” she asked the driver.
But it was Willa who answered. “It’s amazing. With the makeup, she blends into the jungle so well you can’t even see her when you’re only a few feet away.”
“There’s makeup involved?” Charlene asked. “This is so totally my thing, I can’t believe it. Of course I’ll do it.”
“Wayne wanted me to tell you,” the driver said, “that Maleficent can transform herself from human to animal. It doesn’t last long, and it exhausts her, but any animal you see in the Park could be her. He said it’s incredibly important to keep that in mind:
any animal.
”
“And remember about the security cameras,” Philby reminded. “The whole Park is watched. Only the washrooms are absolutely safe. No cameras.”
He yawned a massive yawn. It was contagious: each of them yawned in succession.
“The hardest part of all of this,” Maybeck said, “at least for all of you, is looking older than you really are. Thankfully that’s not such an issue for me.”
Philby cringed. “Give me a break,” he muttered.
“It’s true,” the driver said. “We can use some makeup to try to help, but those of you in costume must remember that Cast Members are eighteen and up. So act it where possible, and avoid encounters with Park visitors as much as you can. Whatever you do, don’t talk to other Cast Members. It’s a family here—even as big as it is. Cast Members know the other Cast Members. You will be found out.”
“That’s encouraging,” Maybeck said sarcastically.
“That’s reality,” the driver said.
“Yeah?” Maybeck snapped a little testily. “Well, that would be the first time we’ve dealt with reality in a long, long time. So pardon me if I don’t recognize it.”
“Any questions?” the driver asked.
He hoisted the truck’s rear door. And while the sun had not yet risen, they found themselves in a vast, empty parking lot, alongside several steel-sided, mostly windowless buildings that looked like warehouses. The sky was fully aglow with the push of dawn as the kids climbed out of the truck and hurried to follow the Dapper Dan.
T
HE DRIVER SHOWED THEM
into the Cast Services building. Even if the lights had been on, it still would have been gloomy and creepy inside, with its rows of hundreds of abandoned lockers. But under the hazy glow of the dim, off-hours lighting, the place looked positively haunted. Not one locker had a person’s name on it, nor did any of them look used—no scratches, decals, graffiti, or dents. Nothing like the lockers at school.
“This was originally going to be where Cast Members changed for work,” the Dapper Dan said, “but it became impractical because of the distance to the Park. But if anything goes wrong—a missing button, a broken zipper—it comes here. The building’s only open a few hours a day.”
The six kids stood just inside the building. The driver walked past and unlocked an interior door to the left of a narrow counter, behind which was a retractable metal barrier, padlocked shut.
“Make sure this is locked behind you. When you’re ready, you cross the roads out here. Stay to the far left of the parking lots. There’s a pedestrian entrance on West Savannah Circle. Philby, if you find you need anything mechanical, any tool of any sort, the adjacent structure is the maintenance facility. The animation training lab is in that building as well. Parts for anything you can dream of to do with the Animal Kingdom can be found over there. You can use these IDs to access it and any other facility,” he said, handing each of the kids a plastic ID card. Finn’s card had his picture on it and a fake name, Finnian Thomas, with a fake address. “Each of you is in the system as an employee of the company—and you’re all in there as being eighteen. So if anyone should ask…the department you work for is on there as well. Memorize it. These will get you into and out of the Park via the pedestrian entrances, allow you to charge food, buy merchandise. But don’t abuse them. In most cases, you don’t need them to go backstage. But in certain buildings, certain facilities, you may, so keep them handy. They get you past the electronic security. Whatever you do, don’t lose them. I’ll need them back, and I’ll need to destroy them.”
There was a noise then, like the wind: a swishing, whooshing sound, as if someone had left a window open. But no one felt a breeze, and not a hair moved on anyone’s head. However, quite a few hairs raised on the back of Finn’s neck.
“What was that?” he asked.
The driver turned to the door they had come through. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “You’re on your own from here on out.” He was gone in an instant. His hurrying off so quickly added to the sense of impending danger.
He closed the door a little loudly on his way out. The boom echoed around the building.
“Check it out,” Maybeck called to the others. He was holding open the door that the driver had unlocked. The others stepped forward and peered inside. The ceiling was thirty feet overhead, steel beams with cross supports—all unfinished and basic. Displayed before them were fifty or sixty rows of clothes hanging from steel pipes. The rows stretched from where they stood to the far side of the building, fifty yards or more.
“Oh…my…gosh,” gushed Charlene.
There had to be thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of garments—every kind of Animal Kingdom costume and Cast Member outfit, in every size. And accessories: hats, boots, belts, buckles, backpacks, clipboards, pointers, pens, notepads—in containers on shelves just above the clothing that matched their theme.
“Wow…” Willa said.
“You all know how you’re dressing,” Finn said. He spotted the signs across the room. “Women’s locker rooms to the right, men’s to the left. The sooner we’re out of here the better. Philby, Amanda, and I will stand guard.”
“Against what?” Willa asked.
“Use your imagination,” Maybeck said.
“If I whistle like this,” Finn said, emitting a whistle that sounded a little bit like a sick bird, a little bit like a leaking balloon, “then hide until you hear it again.”
“If you whistle like that,” Maybeck said condescendingly, “you’re going to get me laughing so hard I’ll never be able to hide.”
“Your problem, not mine,” Finn said.
That silenced Maybeck for the moment, just long enough for Philby to say he’d look for a door at the back where he could stand guard. Amanda would stay basically where they were. Finn would patrol the general locker area where they’d entered.
No one had a good feeling about this. No one but Charlene, who was acting like she’d just unlocked her grandmother’s attic.
* * *
Suspended above the impossibly long rows of clothing and costumes were large hand-painted signs done in the Animal Kingdom’s African-style lettering. They divided the space into sections, a system used to organize a hundred thousand Cast Member costume pieces into something manageable.
While Maybeck cruised
ANIMAL CARE
and Willa
PARK RANGERS
, Charlene browsed the area marked
PERFORMERS
, searching for DeVine costumes.
The first suggestion that they might not be alone came in the form of noise: the familiar sound of hangers tinkling like dull bells. Charlene noticed it first, or was at least the first to voice her concern. She hurried to find Willa and whispered hotly, “Did you hear that? The hangers? Coming from over there?” She pointed.
“What?” Willa was busy trying to find a shirt that would fit her.
“Hangers. Like someone else is in here,” Charlene explained in a conspiratorial hush. “Don’t forget Small World.”
As DHIs, the kids had once ridden through It’s a Small World late at night only to have all the dolls come alive and attack them. It was a memory—more like a nightmare—none of them cherished. Other parts of various attractions in the Magic Kingdom had come alive as well, often threatening them, or outright causing them harm. It had instilled a reluctance in them all, a distrust of what might happen next, that had stayed with them long since, and whether they spoke of it or not, haunted them.
“You’re just buggy because it’s dark in here.”
“I’m not buggy! I heard hangers banging around over there. What’s with that? You think I should tell Finn?”
“Boys? We don’t need boys.”
Some hangers rang out quite near them. Charlene jumped back. Willa stood her ground but peered inquisitively into the room’s twilight. “It’s got to be Finn or Philby playing a joke,” she told Charlene.
“Ha-ha.”
Willa stood taller and spoke with authority. “Okay, you guys! You got us. Ally-ally-in-free.”
The
ting-ting
of hangers faded, like a clock running down. The girls waited for someone to jump out and surprise them, but it didn’t happen.
“Are you going to check it out?” Charlene asked, partly hiding behind Willa.
Together the girls explored the rack in front of them, pushing clothes aside. They did so cautiously, a few garments at a time. Willa grabbed a bunch of shirts and slid them to her right.
A large bat dropped from the rack, unfolded its wings, and flapped violently to gain altitude. Willa ducked. Charlene screamed and went over backward, falling to the floor.
The bat spiraled into the upper reaches of the warehouse and, because of Charlene’s scream, got the attention of everyone on the floor.
It was a big bat, an ugly bat, with a wingspan of at least two feet, but it moved through the air as fast as a cat after a toy, fluttering and flying, weaving and diving, one moment up high near the ceiling, the next dive-bombing down one of the endless aisles.
The commotion drew Finn and Amanda, running. Philby hurried from the back. But it was Maybeck who proved to be the shrewd thinker. He grabbed a butterfly net from the props section and came after the bat like a lacrosse player, swinging the billowing net with remarkable agility.
“Find the lights!” he shouted, following the bat down a row of grass skirts. “Bats don’t like light!”
Where the others might have been satisfied with scaring the bat out of the building, Amanda and Finn understood the tension in Maybeck’s voice. Finn had seen a huge bat at Amanda’s. The same bat? Not a great believer in coincidence, he, too, wanted to catch it. Clearly Maybeck also believed it was no ordinary bat.
“Philby,” Finn shouted, “the lights!” He had no idea how to turn on the lights in a building this size, but if there was a switch, Philby would find it before anyone else.
True to form, the overhead lights came on only seconds later, and the warehouse lit up like the school gymnasium. As the lights flashed on, the bat dove as if it had been shot, and there was Maybeck, lunging through the air. He swung the net. The bat swooped. The two met in a tangle of nylon mesh, high-pitched squeals. Maybeck skidded down the smooth concrete floor like a base runner diving for home plate. He twisted the net, throwing it over itself and trapping the prize inside.
The kids let out an unplanned cheer.
They had taken a prisoner.