Disney After Dark (23 page)

“Okay, then let’s get some coffee.”

“I’m all over that.”

Finn waited several more long minutes without moving, practically without breathing. Who had called security? Amanda? Had she fed them a bunch of lies? Did she
want
Finn to get caught because of the way he’d excluded her recently?

If they were caught now, their attempt to stop Maleficent would be thwarted. The park would eventually fall under her control. Worse, if she took her powers outside the park, who knew what would happen? Who knew what would become of the five kids who had once been DHIs?

One anonymous call had nearly ruined everything.

Now he heard a distant sound: five dull beats, like a fist on glass. The signal.

His eyes adjusted to what little light was available in this back hallway. He turned left toward the office display and soon reached a door marked: WD’s OFFICE.

Finn opened this door, stepped inside, and was now standing in the display. He moved carefully, not wanting to nudge anything out of place or disturb the office’s contents. The air was stuffy and unusually dry. He kept watch out into the empty gallery beyond.

On the walla tiny red light began flashing. A sensor of some kind, though an alarm did not sound. An environmental sensor perhaps, measuring heat and humidity for the sake of the display’s contents. Finn’s body heat and his breathing, along with the open door to the back hall, had tripped some kind of silent alarm.

He quickly snatched up all the pens and pencils from both the black coffee mug and the cork globe. He was nearly out the office door when he saw a scroll of architectural plans leaning up against the desk. Walt had told Wayne that he “had plans for this place.” Finn, like Wayne and others, had taken the wrong meaning.
Plans
, as in drawings, not
plans
, as in ideas. Finn scooped them up.

He heard three loud thuds on the gallery’s outer door—another signal from Willa. Someone was coming. Again.

Finn hurried out the office’s back door, shut it carefully, and headed down the back hallway.

But where to go? he wondered.

He saw an exit sign at either end of the hallway. Which way?

He looked left, looked right, but was frozen by indecision.

He headed right, away from Willa’s warning.

Down the narrow hall, a jog left, he faced a metal exit door with a panic bar. He hesitated, for at that very second an icy frost splintered and cracked the inside surface of the door. Something —
someone
—was just on the other side, and it wasn’t security guards.

The frosty image slowly took the shape of a human hand. Finn jumped back. He could see his breath now, could feel that same penetrating cold getting to him again.

He turned to run, but could not move his legs. He teetered, ready to fall. The frost on the inside of the door spread from the thin fingers of the hand like a web. Finn glanced down to see that the floor had iced up beneath him. It was like standing on a skating rink. Then his body moved forward, all on its own, sliding on the ice, as if drawn by a magnet.

He put out his hands to stop himself, but they stuck to the door. That force continued to pull him. Now his body glued itself to the door. Inch by inch his head was pulled until his cheek froze to the metal. Pulled against the door’s panic bar, he feared the door might come open. Whoever, whatever, was on the other side wanted the pens and pencils in his pocket. The Overtakers.

The plans squirted out from under his arm and came unrolled as they hit the floor. Finn could see they were faded blueprints of the various parks. One by one, the sheets slipped under the door while Finn was helpless to stop them.

The panic bar inched ahead and, as it did, the mechanism drew the bolt of the lock away from the lip of metal that secured the door shut.

Behind him, the voices inside the gallery grew louder as the security guards drew closer.

“Hey, Manny! Over here! Think I got something!”

The guards were in the back hallway.

Whatever was on the other side of the door made a sound like wintry wind.

Finn tried to dismiss it, ignore it, but it grew louder.

Then, from outside the door, Finn heard shouting. The roar of the wind immediately lessened, fading away, replaced by the sounds of running feet. The ice on the inside of the door slowly melted, sending streams of water rushing down.

Finn heard the slap of boots as the security guards drew closer. He pushed the panic bar.

The ice cracked and the door opened. Finn tore some skin off the palms of both hands as he pulled away from the icy bar.

Bright late-afternoon sunshine blinded him. He could just vaguely make out Willa, a good distance away, running toward him.

Behind him, a girl with long hair.

Jez? Amanda?

Finn took off in that direction, curious to find out who had caused that ice.

The fleeing girl rounded the building’s back corner, out of sight.

Finn sprinted to catch up calling, “Hey! Wait! You! Wait up!” He was no longer afraid of this person. He wanted answers.

He, too, hurried around the corner. He collided with someone and they went down hard. Finn came to his knees, dazed.

“You?” he said.

He sat face-to-face with Amanda.

“You?” he said again, desperate for an explanation. “
You
cause the cold?”

“Finn—”

“You’re the one?” he gasped in disbelief, hating her for all her lies.

“Me?” She looked astonished. But was she just acting?

She said in a whisper, “Did you get what you came for?”

Finn couldn’t get a word out, his chest tight, his fists clenched.

“Finn, please. You’ve got this wrong.”

He rose to his feet and backed away from her, but not daring to take his eyes off her. “I trusted you,” he said.

“Finn,” she pleaded. “There’s so much to explain. But not here.”

“Not anywhere,” he fired back. “Not ever.”

“Run!” Willa called out, catching up. “They’re com-ing!

Amanda, still seated on the pavement, had tears in her eyes.

Willa came to a breathless stop. “Finn! The guards!”

He and Amanda had not broken eye contact, though they did now. He backed up at first, still looking at her. Then he turned and ran as hard and as fast as he could.

29

M
ickey’s Not-So-Scary Haloween Party, the most fun of any of the park’s special events, was not to be missed. It provided a good opportunity for the kids to bring the pens to Wayne, since they would have to deliver them in person, not as DHIs.

All five of the kids had planned to attend, using up one of their “legal” visits to the park. Finn wasn’t sure who to trust anymore, but certainly not the pirates. Their apparent connection to Jez made him all the more curious, and all the more cautious.

The party took place at night, after hours. Main Street was decorated to match the occasion, costumes were all but mandatory, and ghoulish characters walked the streets, adding to the chills and thrills.

Philby believed the party also provided Maleficent a rare opportunity to use all the costuming to hide herself. A witch would go unnoticed on a night like this. She could meet with the other Overtakers without raising an eyebrow, and could move about the park freely. If she was plotting a way to take over the park, this, of all nights, seemed the perfect time for her to spring her plan.

The kids—kids, not DHIs—had a plan in place to keep both Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion under close watch. They chose the Haunted Mansion because ghosts and goblins would serve a witch well, and if Maleficent planned to take over the park, now or in the future, she would need an army of Overtakers supporting her.

Finn’s mother dropped him off in the school parking lot. He suffered through the usual lecture from her about good and proper behavior. Snore. Over three hundred of his fellow schoolmates, including Dillard, rode school bus shuttles to the Magic Kingdom. These same buses were to take them all back to the school at eleven o’clock, when the party ended and the park closed. Parents would pick up their kids in the school’s lot.

Once inside, the plan was for the kids to meet at the statue of Roy O. Disney outside the fire station in Town Square. From there they would “divide and conquer,” as Maybeck put it.

Having struggled with costume ideas, Finn came dressed in black jeans, a black T-shirt, and a new cape. He wore a black mask over just his eyes. He thought of himself as Zorro, when in truth, he was dressed for any adventures they might encounter.

At eight o’clock thousands of kids and their families poured into the park wearing elaborate costumes that added to the heightened sense of fun. In any other year, Finn would have headed straight to a ride to get in line, ready to scream and be frightened. Despite its name, Mickey’s Not-So-Scary Halloween Party offered plenty of frights to its guests.

Music was pumped into the park, not the typical Disney songs—most of which Finn could hum from memory—but instead, monster tunes and ghost songs, punctuated by fits of ghoulish laughter. The park came alive with the sounds.

Arriving as planned, a few minutes past opening, Finn found it difficult to pick out his new friends. This was partly because there were so many people flooding into the park, and partly because of the costumes.

“There you are!” Dillard Cole said. He’d elected to come as a crab, wearing a large round shell made of brown paper, his hands in oven mitts for claws, and several sets of springy legs protruding from the shell.

“You look like a giant tick,” Finn said. “Crabs aren’t brown.”

“Grocery bags. It was the only paper we could find.”

From up close, Finn saw that Dillard’s costume was indeed made from dozens of grocery bags cut open and taped together.

“You seen anyone from school?” Finn asked.

“Nah. You?”

“Nah.”

“I hate Halloween,” Dillard said.

“Then why did you come?”

The crab shrugged, all its legs bouncing at once. “The candy. Where you been, anyway?

Seems like we never hang out anymore.”

It was true: Finn’s life had changed since the crossing-over had begun. He’d quickly made new friends with the DHIs. Their quest was all he thought of anymore; even his homework was suffering.

“You know what’s going on,” he said. “Or at least some of it.”

“Your
super powers
,” Dillard teased.

“Yeah. Like that.” Finn hadn’t told Dillard half the stuff he’d been through in the past few weeks. He led a secret life now.

Until this moment he hadn’t realized just how secret. Worse: until he and the others fixed things, until the growing power of the Overtakers was challenged and stopped, his life wasn’t going to get much better. Staying awake all night. Feeling tired all day. Battling his parents. Telling his mom the truth, which she, of course, found unbelievable.

“What ride do you want to go on first?” Dillard asked. “Earth to Finn! Hello?”

Finn couldn’t hear because he’d spotted a witch heading for them. Among all the other costumes, this one in particular stood out. Not just for the costume, but for the girl who wore it.

As Dillard turned to follow Finn’s gaze, his crab body and legs hit kids behind him, drawing jeers of complaint and clearing a space around him.

“Check out Cruella De Vil,” Dillard said, following Finn’s gaze. “Hey, isn’t that—”

“Her name is Jez.”

“From the car wash.”

“Right.”

Jez wore a skintight black-and-white leotard with black-and-white tights. Her hair was half black, half white. She carried a masquerade mask on a stick and wore white gloves that ran all the way up to her elbows. The small mask was black, like Finn’s Zorro mask. She had a black beauty mark drawn onto her cheek to the left of her lips, which were exaggerated by bright red lipstick.

She looked like a college girl. Her cape swished dramatically as she walked. It wasn’t made of cheap costume material, but something much nicer. She drew looks from a good number of boys as she passed.

She headed directly to Finn and Dillard. The song playing from the bushes was “Monster Mash.” Jez stepped up to Finn, standing a little too close. They almost touched. Finn felt tempted to take a step back, but held his ground.

Jez spoke softly, privately. “Great minds think alike,” she said. “Our masks,” she added after Finn failed to respond.

“Hey, Jez,” Finn said.

“Look out, Zorro,” she warned, “I might put a spell on you!” She briefly dropped the mask and met eyes with Finn. She smiled.

Dillard coughed. A coughing crab with dancing legs. He cleared an even bigger space for himself in the crowd.

“Maybe you already have,” Finn suggested.

She said, “A good spell, I hope.”

“Are you a good witch?”

“The best,” she said. “Can’t you tell?” She spun, her cape rising. She ended her twirl facing Dillard and said to him, “Aren’t you going to offer to get me something to drink, Sebastian?”

“Hey! She guessed I’m Sebastian!” Dillard said proudly to Finn.

“You’ve got enough hands, don’t you?” she asked, tweaking one claw and sending it bouncing up and down.