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Authors: Ridley Pearson

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Disney at Dawn (9 page)

BOOK: Disney at Dawn
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19

F
INN’S FIRST DECENT
look at the contents of Jez’s diary came as he, Amanda, and Philby awaited the Park’s opening. The main parking lot was a steady stream of arriving vehicles. Awning-covered shuttles were used to transport visitors to the Park entrance. The shuttles were stacked up at the back of the lot awaiting use. The three kids sat on a shuttle bench together and reviewed their personal photocopies of Jez’s journal in detail.

Finn had always pictured a girl’s diary to be line after line of neatly written cursive on well-organized pages, the contents of which held secrets about her love interests. What he saw here surprised him. Jez’s was a stream-of-consciousness collage, a collection of images, sketches of animals, and musings. There were clothing receipts pasted into the pages; pieces of postcards, stapled; a fortune cookie fortune taped to a page; there were recipes, movie ticket stubs, pieces of torn photographs; ribbons and candy wrappers. There was an arch that looked like the letter
M
, with a blob of ink on the right side. Surrounding and interweaving it all were lines from poems, song lyrics, comments, and what looked like quotes from conversations she’d had. It was all mixed up into a mess of heavily scribbled pen and pencil.

“Are these supposed to mean something?” Finn asked, fingering the three photocopied pages.

“They must have meant something to her,” Amanda said. “Jez took her journaling very seriously.”

“And at what point did she cut off her ear?” asked Philby. “Go van Gogh.” He won a few smiles.

“Look,” Finn said, indicating the upper right-hand corner of the photocopy. “That’s a castle and a lightning bolt.”

“That’s what I told you about,” Amanda said. “And look down here.” She pointed to what was obviously a monkey.

“Yeah, but this could be coincidence, right?” Philby said, sounding somewhat apprehensive. “Are we actually going to believe a person can see into the future?”

Finn looked over at him with a dumbfounded expression.

“Okay, okay. But it doesn’t mean everything on this page is significant,” Philby protested.

“How do we know it isn’t?” Finn asked.

“This is several nights’ worth of dreams,” Amanda said. “You can tell because some are pencil, some pen. The movie tickets and postcards—that stuff is memories, reminders.”

“But what about this decal, or whatever it is?” Finn asked.

“No idea. A stamp, maybe,” Amanda said.

The letters were reversed, the image backward.

“There’s a tiger, a gorilla, and…what’s this, a bowling pin?” Finn turned the page upside down, but couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at.

“I think they’re all clues,” Amanda said.

Philby exhaled loudly, so as to be noticed. “We
all
want to find her, Amanda. But if we go chasing down sketches from her diary, then that’s a lot of valuable time that could have been spent looking for her.”

“I think we can trust this,” she said.

“We need more proof,” Philby complained.

“We have a castle and a lightning bolt!” Finn pointed out.

“On opposite corners of the page. There’s also an aqueduct, some balloons, and a railroad track.”

“These are dreams, not instant replays,” Amanda told Philby. “She had visions. Glimpses. How much of your dreams, your nightmares, do you remember? Bits and pieces are what I get. Sometimes more than that, a piece of a story, but not that often. Maybe we all dream pieces of the future but just don’t happen to know it. How often do we write them down or make sketches and keep track? She left us clues, Philby.” She waved the photocopy in the air. “This is the map of her dreams. Maybe she didn’t know she was leaving it for us, but there’s no ignoring the castle and the lightning, is there? So maybe not everything on here is helpful. It probably isn’t. But we won’t know that until we check it out. Right? We’ve got to check out each thing on here, because if even
one
other thing on this page can help us find her—” She covered her mouth with her fist, on the verge of crying.

“I’m just saying we don’t have much time. I’m nodding out like every other minute. We fall asleep and we may stay asleep forever. That’s what Wayne said. I just want us to use our time efficiently, that’s all.” He studied the sheet. “For instance, who’s Rob?” In several places on the cluttered page Jez had written,
Change Rob.

“Rob Bernowski,” Amanda said. “From school.”

“A friend? Boyfriend? Or what?” Philby asked.

“A little of both, I think.”

“And she wants to change him? And this is relevant to us, how?”

“I don’t know. Sure, I guess. She put that into the journal in a bunch of places.” Amanda opened up the journal and flipped through several pages around the ones they had copied. “The way she writes it, it’s like she’s really set on it.”

“So are we supposed to talk to Rob about this?” Philby asked sarcastically. “You think Rob has her?”

Amanda glared at him.

Finn asked, “What can it hurt to call him? I don’t see why we don’t follow up on everything we can. Am I missing something? What if this
is
important, and we ignore it?”

“That’s why you called the meeting, isn’t it?” Philby asked. “I say we put it to a vote. We could spend all day chasing a bunch of meaningless ramblings, and we haven’t got all day. How much longer can we stay awake?” He yawned, and then Finn and Amanda yawned right along with him.

“Stop it,” Finn said.

“We’re out of time here,” Philby complained, “and we haven’t even started. I’m going to have to call my mom at some point, or she’ll have the cops out looking for me.”

“We’ll put it to a vote,” Finn agreed. “But in the meantime, we’re going to make a list of everything on this page and what it might mean, no matter how far out.” He addressed Philby. “We’ll do it scientifically.” He said this knowing it would appeal to him.

“I can get behind that,” Philby said.

Amanda looked over at Finn, her eyes red and shining behind tears she struggled to hold back. But her eyes also had a twinkle in them. She seemed to be thanking him. Finn reached out and took her clenched fist in his hand.

“We’re going to find her,” he said.

20

M
AYBECK APPROACHED
the bat enclosure from the Maharajah Jungle Trek path. The enclosure was quite large, with colorful prayer flags strung between the facade of a fake building, rock walls, and the large boxlike frame that supported a wall and roof of mesh netting. A three-stage viewing room had been built along the path. A ranger would be on duty once the Park opened at 9 AM, but for now it stood empty. Maybeck avoided the viewing room, just in case, staying outside, moving along the perimeter wall of the netting. He left the path and entered the jungle, keeping close to the enclosure’s netted wall.

It was only then he saw the birds. His first reaction was one of astonishment. He thought it beautiful in a way—a thousand or more dark birds so crowded into the treetops that large branches bent under their weight. He thought how fortunate he was to see such a phenomenon—that it probably only happened in the early hours before guests arrived and scared away all but the most brazen of the wild creatures that had adopted the Animal Kingdom as their home.

Then he noticed something strange about the birds: they all seemed to be looking right at him. He knew this was impossible, and yet…The thrill of astonishment gave way to the electric jangle of raw nerves. They
were
looking right at him.

Two things happened then: he spotted a door into the enclosure about ten yards farther into the jungle, and the first of the birds left their perches and flew toward him.

He knew he shouldn’t panic. It was only birds, after all. But the way they surrounded him…the way the jungle went suddenly silent…the way the bats in the enclosure awakened with a start—
nocturnal
animals—a restless jittering as they hung from their perches sent a spike of terror through him. Birds flew in flocks, certainly. But they didn’t
attack
as a group. Did they?

The birds attacked.

It was as if someone had blotted out the sun. They came at him as a dark cloud of beating wings and unflinching black eyes. Their small bird legs were aimed right at Maybeck. The birds came at him in such numbers that at first it was just plain scary—they landed on his head, his shoulders, his arms, his back. But then it went beyond scary—to dangerous—as the weight of them pushed him down. To an outside eye, it would have appeared as if thousands of birds had landed in the same spot of the jungle at once, but to Maybeck it meant a pitch-black flurry of wings and beaks and scratching claws. He fought them off one-handed—grabbing, poking, sweeping his arm, and knocking the birds away. But back they came.

He knew he could not sustain the weight of the birds. The pecking.

Now, crushed by the heaviness, feeling it might break him in two, Maybeck released the pillowcase to defend himself.

A tiny hand reached out…

A monkey hand
! It snatched up the pillowcase, and the monkey took off running. As it did, the birds flew off. In a flutter of feathers, the sun reappeared, and Maybeck watched as the monkey, pillowcase in hand, hurried down the path.

Maybeck took off after it.

He looked himself over as he ran—not a scratch on him. If he were to tell anyone what had happened, they wouldn’t believe him. He had no proof whatsoever.
A thousand birds attacked me
! It would sound like a lame excuse for his having lost the pillowcase and the captive bat. He had originally thought Finn’s claim that the bat might be Maleficent was a bit of a stretch. But now he reconsidered. Birds didn’t organize like that, he reminded himself. Monkeys were known thieves, but what was a monkey doing
loose
inside the Animal Kingdom, even if the Park was not yet officially open? He had questions that needed answering.

He ran as fast as he could.

When the monkey stole off into the jungle, Maybeck followed.

21

W
ILLA CROSSED DISCOVERY ISLAND
, feeling as if everyone were staring at her. Could they tell she was underage? She didn’t think she looked all that much younger than the other girls. The formality of the uniform helped her look older, adding a good three or four years to her fourteen. But what if they were staring because they recognized her face as that of a DHI? If caught, she could lose her family’s Gold Pass, as well as her performance contract. She might no longer be one of the Kingdom Keepers. She kept her head down and wished she’d used more makeup at the costume warehouse. The ID badge Wayne had given her was clipped to her waist, helping to make her look official. With her eyes to the ground, she walked with her back straight and took determined strides, knowing the importance of body language.

She had volunteered for what was probably the most dangerous assignment that Finn and Philby had come up with: to infiltrate and search the Kilimanjaro Safari grounds. The idea was a simple one: if someone was hiding Jez in the Animal Kingdom, why not stash her someplace where people were prohibited from going? When the Park was open, the safari teemed with hundreds of wild animals. People riding on the safari were restricted to the backs of the safari trucks with a driver/guide who pointed out animals and took guests on a “mission” to save a baby elephant from make-believe poachers. But, according to Philby’s research, throughout the safari grounds there were feeding stations, way points, and even some hidden gates offering backstage access. The Overtakers had once hidden Maybeck in a maintenance cage inside Space Mountain; it seemed possible, logical even, that they might hide Jez in a similarly impossible-to-access place. But if one of them got there before the animals were released…

“It’s done in stages,” Philby had explained. “Thomson’s gazelles are pretty tame and harmless. Some aren’t even rounded up at night, but most of the other animals are. They’re fed and washed and doctored, if need be, after the Park closes to the public.”

“But what about early morning?” Willa had asked.

“Before the Park opens, they return the animals in a specific order that offers the fewest problems. The trick for you is to get inside before eight AM.”

Willa didn’t wear a watch. She had no idea what time it was. That was an oversight. She was guessing it was between 6:30 and 7:00 AM, which gave her about an hour. But the later it was, the less time she had. She quickened her steps, off Discovery Island now, and headed toward the entrance to the Kilimanjaro Safari. A tremendous flock of black birds passed overhead—there must have been thousands of them. They streaked across the morning sky and were gone.

“If you hurry, you can catch the last one.” She looked up. It was a cute guy wearing a uniform identical to her own. He stood below the sign for the Kilimanjaro Safari.

“Ah…yeah,” Willa said. But she tensed as she felt his eyes following her. Did she look old enough to carry an ID badge?

She walked quickly through the empty waiting area, turning and winding her way down to the loading dock, where one of the trucks was waiting. There was an older woman—she had to be nearly thirty—leaning forward from the front bench, coaching the driver. Willa was the only passenger beside the instructor. It was obviously some kind of training run. The truck rumbled off down a path that wound through the jungle.

Willa called out, “I’ll be hopping off at Ituri Forest.”

The instructor, without so much as looking back, lifted her arm and waved.

Willa heaved a sigh of relief and held on as the driver avoided puddles and recited some memorized lines into the radio, “communicating” with other rangers who were searching for the poachers. Willa had taken the safari ride many times and enjoyed the story behind it as well as the animal-watching. But the emptiness of the place at this hour gave her the shivers. The truck rounded a bend and slowed.

“Is here all right?” the instructor called back inquisitively. Suspiciously?

The Ituri Forest
, Willa realized.

“Fine!” She hopped the three feet down to the muddy ground, hoping the instructor wouldn’t see that she was wearing running shoes and not the required ranger boots. She slapped the side of the truck, and it lumbered off. The minute it was gone, she regretted getting off.

Alone on the truck route, in the midst of a thick forest of bamboo and sea cane, Willa spotted a pure white ibis as still as a statue. The bird stood on one leg, perfectly balanced.

She unfolded the map Philby had given her, tried to establish her position, and punched through the forest to her left, expecting to come across a feed station within the next thirty yards. It was tough going, the forest thick with vegetation.

Had she looked behind her, she would have seen a lizard following. It was five or six feet long, with a thin tail and little claws on its feet. Not so much a lizard—more like a Chinese dragon.

BOOK: Disney at Dawn
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