Kingdom Keepers VI (9781423179214) (21 page)

Willa arrived from behind, equally wide-eyed and thrilled. “That was amazing!”

Following the second zip line Charlene waited for Willa. The forest path was dark, despite the sunshine blazing into the ravine. She waited not for her own sake, but for Willa's, who was more of a thinker than an action figure. Charlene knew that if something gave her the creeps, it would terrify Willa—although Willa would never say so.

When Willa arrived, the gloomy path stole all conversation. They moved along, looking in all directions, jumping at the slightest snap of a twig. Weird bird calls and animal sounds filled the woods. The path stretched on, turning and twisting.

After another minute, it was clear to Charlene that something or someone was stalking them from uphill to the right. She hoped Willa had not picked up on it. She tested her theory by slowing down and speeding up. The sounds stayed right with her.

“I hear it,” Willa whispered. “What do we do?”

Charlene waited for Willa to catch up. “You are going to run until you reach the next platform.”

“I'll never keep up.” Willa was not a particularly fast runner.

“I said ‘you,' not ‘we.' I'm going to provide a diversion.”

“Meaning?”

“All you need to do is stay on the path.”

“We're supposed to stick together.” Willa added, “I'm supposed to be protecting you.”

“Whoever, whatever that is, I'm faster. And I want to know what's up there.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Color me curious, not crazy.”

“Don't leave me!”

“On three. One…two…”

Charlene took off uphill, immediately swallowed
by the forest.

Willa had never run faster in her life.

Charlene ran toward the last place she'd heard sounds. She believed she would find Greg Luowski tromping through the woods. It wasn't going to be Maleficent or the Evil Queen
running
through a forest in pursuit of them. It might be Mattie Weaver or one of the volunteer DHIs Wayne had recruited to help. It didn't matter; she wasn't afraid. Her confidence resulted from her own physical prowess—she could run faster, jump farther, climb more quickly and higher than most boys. Let someone try to catch her.

She moved as silently as a huntress, dashing through the trees like a wraith, pausing every few yards to listen attentively.
Who? What? Where?

Finally, Charlene stepped out from behind a tree, took two steps, and collapsed to the forest floor, rolling up against a rotten log. All her heroic dreams of allowing herself to be chased were quashed by the distant sight of two figures approaching. Costa Rican, judging by their dark skin and hair.

But it wasn't their hair or physiques that frightened her; it was the camouflage clothing they wore. It was their bent postures as they paralleled the path. But mostly it was the military face paint that told her this was no game of catch-me-if-you-can.

These two were hunting; and they weren't after animals.

Charlene lay pushed up against the log, hoping they hadn't seen her. She listened for the sound of their footfalls, but the annoying prattle of an excited adventurer on the main path blanketed her ears.

“That was amazing!”
One of the camouflaged
figures—a woman—mocked in heavily Spanish-accented English.

Willa had said this to Charlene only minutes earlier.

The other figure—a man—shushed her.

By this time, the two were dangerously nearby. If Charlene tried to run, she would give them the advantage; if she stayed and they drew even closer, she was giving herself over. She held her breath.

The woman stepped over the log and crushed Charlene's hand. Charlene bit back the cry that wanted to escape. The man passed below her. The woman didn't feel the bones beneath her boot; she trudged onward through the forest.

The two crunched ahead, ten yards past. Now twenty. Charlene couldn't know for certain what they were up to: bandits preparing to rob tourists? Agents of the Overtakers? Security for the company running the mountain activities,
protecting
their guests, not stalking them?

She did not dare move until they vanished into the trees. Then she gradually followed, staying well back. Followed, even as the two caught a glimpse of the ship passengers currently on the path and broke into a
jog. Clearly they had wanted to see only the two girls—Charlene and Willa. But Charlene revised this opinion as they hunkered down behind a giant upended root-ball from a fallen tree, now with a clear line of sight to the path. They were awaiting someone else.

Charlene backed up gingerly and found her way back down. She waited for a family to come along and took the far side where the two who were spying would not be able to see her clearly. She moved in unison with the family, averting her head as they neared the section of trail she believed was under watch.

Ten minutes later, she caught up with Willa, who was waiting by the third zip line platform.

“I thought…I don't know what I thought,” Willa said. “I thought something had happened to you.” She said it too loudly for Charlene's comfort zone.

“Let's get across,” Charlene said. “They can't follow us that way.”

“They? Who? What'd you find out?”

“Later,” Charlene said.

Once across the ravine, Charlene explained what she'd seen.

“So they work here?”

“Who knows? Some kind of security, maybe?”

“There's a lot of forest out here,” Willa said. The mountains were nothing but green. “They could have crossed onto the property. They could have been hired to come after us.”

“By who?”

Some fellow passengers approached down the trail.

“Later,” Willa said.

Two hours later, smiling
Dream
passengers boarded the bus back to the ship, buzzing about their adventures on the zip lines. Their mood festive and excited, they shared photos and stories, laughter and cheers. Creatures of habit, most people sat in the same seats they'd occupied earlier, including Charlene and Willa. From below came loud noises—coolers and equipment bags being loaded onto the bus.

Charlene cried out as Willa gripped her arm. Given all the noise and chaos, hardly anyone took notice
but Charlene, who felt as if a tourniquet had been applied.

“That's not Philby.” Willa released her hold as Charlene pried her fingers free.

The boy who boarded the bus looked surprisingly like Philby, but wasn't. It appeared to be a clever disguise. Coming down the aisle, this boy kept his hat brim low.

Willa came out of her seat to confront him; Charlene pulled her back down. The boy sat in the seat immediately across the narrow aisle. The hat brim lifted slowly. Both girls covered their mouths to stifle their shock. It was Kenny Carlson, the volunteer DHI, his face made up to look like Philby's.

“I can't find him,” Kenny said. “I waited, but he never showed up.”

“Who?” Charlene said sharply, not wanting the answer she felt certain she'd hear.

“Dillard.”

“Dillard?” Both girls, simultaneously.

“Playing Finn.”

“Playing?”

They waited for two older people to push past and find seats.

“Wayne's orders. We…Dillard and I…kind of detained Finn and Philby and took their places.”

Charlene exhaled a sigh of relief, only to hate herself for it. Finn's gain seemed to be Dillard's loss.

“We've got to tell the Cast Member in charge!” Willa said.

“I did. That's why we're delayed. We were supposed to board thirty minutes ago. The staff is supposedly running all the trails looking for him. I guess it happens often enough that they have a system. Twisted ankles. That sort of thing. But I know where I lost him, and they're already past there.”

“After the second line, before the third platform,” Charlene said.

Willa gripped her arm again.

“How'd you know that?” a stunned Kenny asked.

The girls shared panicked expressions. Willa whispered dryly, “They're not going to find him.”

Charlene said, “We're not leaving without him.”

“The same guy told me it's happened before,” Kenny said. “People get lost. When they find them, they drive them to the ship.”

“They're not going to find him.”

“Don't say that, Willa!” Kenny complained.

Charlene jumped up and fought the oncoming traffic to reach the front of the bus. Willa and Kenny watched as she spoke to the crew member leading the excursion. The exchange grew heated, Charlene's face turning scarlet. Charlene tried to leave the bus, but the crew member stopped her, turned her around, leaned in and spoke to her privately for what felt like a minute. Charlene's body language changed—her shoulders sagged, her head rocked forward. She trudged back to join them.

“We can't stay to look for him,” she said. “The park is closing, and we're not allowed inside. If we miss the bus, we miss the ship. It leaves as soon as we board.”

“So we just give up on Dillard?” Kenny sounded ready to cry.

“I wouldn't say that.” Willa closed her eyes, trying to make sense of the plan already forming in her head. She smiled wryly. “We've been in other parks when they're closed.”

“Y
OU'RE BORING ME
with all this tech stuff.” Charlene shifted uneasily from the couch of the unused stateroom. “Can we, or can't we, cross over and try to find Dillard? And no more about DHI shadow and projectors and the difference between 1.6 and 2.0. Please!”

The
Disney
Dream
should have been moving smoothly through the three-foot seas up the Pacific coast. There were still days at sea ahead, with stops in Mexico, and finally, Los Angeles. The Panama passage was nearing its end.

But the
Dream
was still tied to the dock in Costa Rica. The people in this room knew why: Captain Cederberg didn't want to leave without Dillard. The time was fast approaching when he would be forced to set sail in order to make the next port on schedule, but for now he awaited word from his shore party about the missing boy.

“It's complicated,” the real Philby said.

“I still can't believe you guys went along with the switch,” Willa complained.

“We didn't go along with anything!” Finn said, too loudly. “They locked us in a conference room! They tricked us.”

“Because Wayne told them to,” Philby said.

“Why would he do that? How could he do that? How could he possibly put Dillard—of all people, Dillard!—in a situation like—”

“Because you're more valuable,” Philby said.

“Dillard's a
person
!” Finn pounded the bed with his fist. “No person is more valuable than another! Wayne would never do that!”

Philby looked smug. “He did it. So we need to get past this. We need to
find
Dillard.”

Finn spit out a word he never used. A hush hit the room. None of the Keepers had ever heard Finn swear. He blushed, but didn't apologize.

“We are not leaving Dillard behind,” Finn said.

“Of course we're not,” Philby said.

“So! Before you get started,” Maybeck said, cutting Philby off, “can you
possibly
give us the DHI-for-Dummies version? Charlie's right: the
Mission:
Impossible
thing is boring.”

“It comes down to this,” Philby said, looking disap-pointed and embarrassed. “I can cross us over here on the
ship. We will walk off the ship and into DHI shadow.”

“So we'll be invisible.” Finn's voice rang with impatience. “That could be good.”

“Correct. But it's also tricky. The network down here will not support 2.0, so we'd default down to 1.6. We can't just randomly go wherever we feel like; we have to stay within range of modems and cameras in order to—”

“B…o…r…i…n…g!” Maybeck made them all laugh.

“It's
dangerous
, okay?”

“And that's supposed to be something new?”

“Technically dangerous. Not physically dangerous. There's a difference. A moving ship. A dicey Internet connection. No decent projection system. I had about twenty minutes to research this. I need a couple of days.”

“We don't have that,” Finn said. “We need to make the decision. Go, or no-go?”

“I'm going,” Kenny Carlson said. “I let this happen. No way I'm sitting around here.”

“I could be of help as well,” said Storey Ming.

“You'd have to be in the system,” Philby informed her. “You'd have to be programmed into the system and that can take—”

“I am.”

“The DHI server,” he said, “not the ship's passenger manifest.”

She gave him a look that caught and won the attention of everyone present in the room.

“You've been programmed as a DHI,” Philby said, doubting her.

“Two point oh.”

The silence that hung over the room was oppressive. Wayne having the foresight to program someone the Keepers had never met into the newest available system gave weight to the idea that the Keepers were going to be replaced by newer models at some point.

In fact, with Storey's announcement, that point suddenly seemed much closer than any of the Keepers had believed possible.

“We need you too, Amanda,” Finn said, trying to change the subject while knowing he might be accused of favoritism or teased for his choice. “Because you can push.”

“And you,” Willa said, “because of your freakish strength.”

No one had made a big deal about Finn's newfound abilities; he'd been glad for that, because even he did not understand them. He didn't have control of whatever it was; he didn't want to promise something he couldn't deliver.

“I don't know,” he said.

“Finn's not going.” Philby stood, arms crossed; defiant, anticipating an objection. “And no, Maybeck, not you either.”

He allowed a few seconds for this to sink in. Rage washed through Finn. Philby, taking over as the leader. Again. He wanted so desperately to object, but kept himself in check.

“Finn's not going because whoever did this just kidnapped ‘him.' We're not going to give them the real thing. They also went after you, Maybeck. As good as you are in a fight, you're going to sit this one out.”

“We're going for Dillard,” Finn said. Enough was enough. “And I'm in.”

“You are not. Yes, we are going find and rescue Dillard. But I propose the following. First, Charlene is critical to the mission; she saw the two hunters in the woods. Second, Mattie will go with her—she's a stowaway to begin with; she won't be missed. If Charlene can identify either of the two people she saw, Mattie may be able to touch them and draw out information about where Dillard is.”

“Mattie doesn't see the future.” Finn tried to gauge the mood in the room. It seemed like the others were buying into Philby's plan; he didn't want to object, be outvoted, and look weak.

“No, but if Dillard, a.k.a. Finn, is mentioned, maybe this guy'll think something about where Dillard
is
, and that's all we'd need.”

“Makes sense,” Willa said.

Finn tensed. He was losing ground. “It's a bogus plan. The others can be returned and rejoin the ship. Mattie and Dillard can't. They're not DHIs.”

“True,” Philby said. “But Wayne can get us around that problem.” He looked directly at Finn, who was steamed to hear of yet another secret conversation.

“Wayne has arranged for money to be left at the front desk. Mattie and Dillard are going to meet us in Mexico. The fishing boat they'll be on makes the
Dream
look like a sea slug. Finally, as Finn suggested, Amanda is the third piece. Her ability to push could come in quite handy. Three girls. I hate to sound sexist, but Dillard's kidnappers are also unlikely to see them as hostiles. That should give the girls at least a few seconds to get the jump on them.”

The lack of even a murmur of discontent shocked Finn. Usually a plan was challenged up and down before acceptance. What did the apparent universal agreement mean?

His resentment of Philby—so recently dormant—built to where he wanted to say something—anything—to make Philby look bad. But he couldn't think of a thing to say. The urge passed, the fire died; but the coals lingered.

“An all-girl mission,” Charlene said, making no attempt to mask her pride and joy. “I like it.”