Kingdom Keepers II: Disney at Dawn Page 15

  panda: 3

  mybest: finn and me think some animals may B DHIs.

  Finn joined the D-Gamer chat room.

  Finn: otakers might use dhis 2 fake us out.

  mybest: maleficent cannot be trusted, she could have made a dhi of herself 2 use as decoy or

  something, no way 2 know.

  panda: she wants control of the parks, it makes more sense she would use the dhis 2 scare

  the guests, or 2 put us into sbs. she doesn’t want us around, that’s 4 sure.

  Finn: and with jez being able to see the future, she’s a real threat, what if she knows what

  Maleficent has planned?

  panda: that would explain why maleficent wants 2 control her.

  Finn: the diary drawings of animals may be 2 warn us 2 watch out for this or something.

  panda: no. it’s more than that, her dreams involve her. have u ever had a dream that you’re

  not in? never! the diary is about her dreams, her life.

  The screen flickered. She wasn’t through typing.

  panda:…there’s a truck being unloaded behind the bat enclosure. 2 cages…both wrapped

  with tarps.

  mybest: doesn’t mean anything.

  panda: listen to me! the truck driver has a monkey on his arm. a live monkey, the park would

  never al ow a monkey to be running around loose, these cast members are fakes.

  mybest: how big r the cages?

  panda: big! big enough for a large dog or…a wild cat or…

  Maybeck interrupted by typing quickly:

  mybest: philby and wil a!

  Finn: amanda, watch every camera in that area, we’re on our way!

  35

  FINN AND MAYBECK made their way toward the bat enclosure, just down from the tiger yard along

  the winding, dark trail of the Maharajah Jungle Trek. Bugs buzzed past their heads as the heat

  enveloped them, making their chests tight and their breath short. Birds cried out and fluttered past, winning Maybeck’s unflinching attention as he recal ed his earlier horrifying experience. His DS

  beeped and he checked for the message.

  panda: the backstage camera @ the bat enclosure just stopped working.

  “That cannot be a coincidence,” Maybeck whispered to Finn. “That camera was sabotaged.

  Something’s going on back there, and we need to know what it is.”

  angelface13: hey, guys, right behind u.

  Finn spun around, looking for her.

  angelface13:2 your left.

  Finn glanced in that direction.

  Finn saw her first: a paler green shape amid the dark green of the undergrowth. She was on

  the stilts and ten feet into the jungle, al but invisible thanks to the twisting vine of leaves that disguised her. It was only when she made a slight motion that he was able to spot her. The boys

  moved closer to the jungle so they could talk to Charlene in a whisper.

  “I’ve been keeping an eye on the enclosure as Maybeck asked,” she said. “There’s been a lot

  of activity, a lot of coming and going through those doors at the rear. The workers have paid particular attention to that big bat near the red flag on the far left. Twice they’ve carried him through to the back and then returned him out front. I don’t know if that’s the one that was in the pil owcase, but…it might be.”

  Finn and Maybeck weren’t where they could see wel into the enclosure. Maybeck walked steadily closer to the viewing station, leaving Finn behind. He positioned himself with a decent view of the enclosure, then turned toward Finn, and both shrugged and nodded, as if to say: It’s certainly big enough to be the same one.

  Finn said, “We need to get back there and find out what’s in those cages.”

  “No way!” Maybeck protested.

  Charlene asked, “Stil no sign of Wil a and Philby?”

  “No,” Finn answered with a heavy heart.

  “I think I have an idea,” Charlene said. “A way to find out what’s going on back there.”

  Finn, surprised by Charlene’s offer, turned toward the jungle to face her—though because of

  the way she blended in, he found it difficult to see her. Maybeck’s attention remained ful y focused on the enclosure. He and Charlene were opposites: Maybeck tended to react too quickly to situations and liked to work as a loner; Charlene rarely contributed in discussions, and when she

  did participate, enjoyed working as part of a team.

  “What are you thinking?” Finn asked.

  “I’m going to need a diversion,” Charlene whispered. “Something big. Something everyone

  wil watch. And by everyone, I mean every last bird and caterpil ar, and especial y the people and bats”

  36

  INGENIOUS, FINN THOUGHT as he moved through the swinging doors and into the forward viewing booth. There were three levels of viewing offered at the bat enclosure, three open-air rooms constructed of dark wood that led the Park guest closer to the risk of contact with the flying rodents. The first viewing room offered glass windows; the middle room, screens; and the final room—more of a long booth—nothing but wel -spaced vertical wooden bars to keep the large bats at bay. The bars were clearly wide enough for Finn to poke his head through, yet too narrow

  for the extended wings of the large African bats.

  Finn kept his cap pul ed down snugly, hoping to avoid being recognized; that was the kind of

  distraction he could do without. The viewing room was staffed by a col ege-age girl in a ranger’s

  uniform. Presently, she was answering the questions of two young boys who had too much energy

  for such a smal space. Their mother seemed unwil ing to contain them, which served Finn’s purpose wel . He slipped the case off his father’s BlackBerry and stepped close to the open-air

  viewing windows, hoisting the phone to take a picture. He pressed up to the bars, a warm breeze

  striking him, and caught a fleeting and exasperated glance from the ranger, who was finding her

  patience taxed by the two boys.

  Finn purposely fumbled with the phone and case, al owing the case to slip out of his hands

  and fal through the bars, down into the enclosure. He pocketed the phone.

  “My case!” he shouted. He jumped up onto the sil and began to squeeze himself through the

  bars.

  Finn was relatively slight of build. He actual y got partway through the bars before the ranger’s

  strong hand grasped him by the upper arm.

  “GET OUT OF THERE!!” the girl screamed at the top of her lungs, pul ing on him. “YOU

  CAN’T GO IN THERE!!! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?”

  The effect was exactly what Charlene had hoped for: every human eye was drawn to Finn;

  some of the bats were spooked by the ranger’s admonishments. For a few precious seconds, the

  ranger pul ed and Finn resisted.

  “My case!” he hol ered.

  “GET DOWN FROM THERE!”

  Finn stole one quick glance. Maybeck helped Charlene, on stilts, through the jungle door and

  into the enclosure. Charlene’s ivy-clad costume pushed up against the rocks at the far end of the

  enclosure, and within seconds a miracle occurred: she disappeared. DeVine’s costume fit into the

  environment so wel that her form appeared as ivy growing up the rocks. There was no mistaking

  this whatsoever for a girl on stilts. The change was extraordinary.

  Finn, apologizing and complaining at the same time, al owed himself to be drawn back into

  the viewing room, actual y grateful for the ranger’s efforts, since the swirling bats swooped and dove too close for comfort. The ranger scolded him briefly, then promised to have his lost case

  retrieved. She tried to contact someone over her headset, but clearly there was no answer. She

  double-checked both the headset and the radio it wa
s plugged into, obviously annoyed by the lack

  of response.

  She blushed, apologized, and asked Finn to stick around. “I don’t know why I’m not getting

  anyone back there,” she said.

  I do, Finn thought to himself. The people behind that door are not the people you normally work with. If they’re even people at all…

  Once again, his eyes strayed to the far side of the enclosure, where he saw that the ivy patch

  on the rocks had migrated a few feet farther along, a yard or two closer to the enclosure’s center doors. Charlene was moving so incredibly slowly, so expertly, that it was impossible to detect her movements. The ivy seemed to be growing and extending al on its own, blending in perfectly with

  the ivy already there.

  37

  WITH HER BACK TO a false rock wal, Charlene watched Finn being grabbed by the ranger in the

  viewing booth. The girl stopped him from jumping into the enclosure, and then the two had words.

  Charlene thought that Finn seemed to be looking right at her a couple of times, and she wondered

  how good a job she was doing at blending in.

  With her face painted camouflage green, white, and brown, only the whites of her eyes threatened to give her away; so Charlene tried to keep her eyes averted. But it wasn’t easy.

  Jangled by raw nerves, she inched her way along the wal , trying not to look at the bats. She hated bats, and the ones in the enclosure were the size of bowling pins: big, gray, winged rats, hanging upside down from clotheslines. As long as they kept their distance, she thought she could make it.

  The only people who might spot her were those in the viewing station: the Park visitors and

  the ranger. When she did look up, it was toward the booth. She didn’t know if Amanda had a camera aimed at her, and she’d lost sight of Maybeck, who was somewhere off to her right near

  the jungle door. She was on her own: fenced in with several dozen giant bats, in a place that smel ed…wel , funky…trying to slow dance her way clear around the curve of the smooth, irregular

  rock wal to the center doors.

  She inched a stilt to her left, stepped the other along, and then froze, al owing her vines to

  blend in with those growing on the rocks. Then, a minute or two later, she moved again. She and

  the vines crept ahead, no one the wiser.

  Finn left the booth, and Maybeck appeared out on the path with him. They both glanced once

  in her direction. She saw Finn lift his DS, signaling for her that a text was coming.

  Finn: can’t c u at al , Charlie, great job, we’re here if u need us.

  The two boys walked off.

  It was the first time Finn, or anyone else for that matter, had ever cal ed her Charlie, and she

  actual y liked the nickname. There was something pleasing about it, something incredibly personal

  that made her feel especial y good about it. She hoped it might stick, providing she got out of here alive.

  The left stilt caught on a rock as she moved, and the rock shot out from under it like a wet bar

  of soap, raising a puff of dust. This, in turn, startled the bats, already edgy from Finn’s distraction.

  Three of the ugly things flew straight for her, coming toward her face at incredible speed, flying close enough that she could see not only the black glass, buttonlike, beady eyes, but the tiny gray hairs that surrounded their ratty faces, and the eerie translucence of their wings. Her stomach knotted, her head swooned, and a scream bubbled up from her lungs. She kept silent only by snapping her lips shut and clenching her teeth. The last of the three brushed against her hair, dislodging a careful y placed plastic vine and causing a strand to fal into her eyes—undoing her

  disguise. If anyone looked directly at her now, they were sure to see a length of blond hair inexplicably sticking out from the ivy—and that couldn’t be good. She blew the hair out of her eyes with upturned lips and moved more quickly now, slipping her way around the curving rock wal and

  nearing the green doors at its center.

  She was partial y hidden by several trees as she neared the two doors, suddenly realizing

  that on stilts she was much too tal to fit through without Maybeck’s help. Being near the middle of the enclosure, she was also now the center of attention. Without her knowing it, the Park guests

  were looking directly at her.

  She wasn’t going to get through those doors, and she’d come too far to turn back. She looked up: the rock wal rose high above her head, but though it was uneven and craggy, there

  were plenty of handholds visible. Charlene climbed the rock wal at her gym—she considered herself something of an expert.

  The trick was getting her feet out of the stilts without being seen and then leaving the stilts

  propped against the rock so that she could return to them and effect her escape. She eased down

  into a squat—not an easy balancing act on stilts—and managed to release her left foot. She freed

  her right foot, too, and then careful y stepped out of both stilts to leave them resting against the fake rock wal . Some of the ivy strands that wrapped around the stilts continued higher and merged into those that surrounded her leotard. She managed to disconnect the tendrils one by

  one; far more were sewn to the leotard and remained part of her costume. These also helped disguise her as, by handhold and foothold, Charlene climbed higher up the rock face. With each

  smal ascent she paused for what felt like a very long time, al owing her vines to combine with rock and make it more difficult to spot her. She was helped out by the trees and vegetation between

  her and the viewing booth. But soon she rose above the crown of the nearest tree, clinging to the

  odd texture of the fake rock and staying close to the line of real ivy to help camouflage her.

  Then, any possible route disappeared above her. She was used to having to plot her way up

  a rock wal , so she paused and looked for a possible route. The only smal handholds she saw

  moved away from the patch of real ivy. But she had no choice. As she started off in that direction, she realized she was heading directly above the double doors at the center of the enclosure. She

  was also exposing herself to being seen by Park guests, as she was now directly in front of the

  viewing booths. Because of this, she tried to move incredibly slowly. But the slow climbing taxed

  her strength and weakened her.

  She couldn’t “creep” between handholds and footholds, so she watched the viewing booths,

  waited for the attention of the guests to stray to one side or the other, and then made her move.

  The doors swung open beneath her, and a worker stepped through.

  Only then did she realize that some of the sandy texture was shredding off the wal where her

  running shoes touched. Painted sand rained down toward the ground, fal ing right on the head of

  the man who’d come through the doors. If he looked up, he would see her.

  Counting on his entrance to have distracted both the guests and the ranger, Charlene no longer took her time. She gathered her strength, reached out, and moved with accuracy—three

  handholds, two footholds. She climbed quickly and deliberately, clawing her way up to the very top of the rocks, where, enclosed by the aviary’s netting, she spread herself flat.

  The dust sprinkled into the hair of the man below. He turned to look up. But he saw only a wal

  —an empty wal . He brushed the sand out of his hair and cursed the people who’d built the enclosure. The darned thing was clearly fal ing apart.

  38

  CHARLENE SCOOTED TO the far edge of the top of the wal and peered over the lip. She had a good

  view through the netting of the backstage area. The enclosure’s wooden doors opened onto a smal , courtyardlike area between the fake rock wal and a large garage with a
flat roof. The steel wal facing her had been painted as a backdrop to look like rocks and vines.

  She could hear a good deal of activity to her left but couldn’t see what was going on. She

  spotted a camera mounted a few feet directly below her and aimed backstage; she assumed this

  was the camera that Amanda had mentioned, the one out of commission, an easy assumption,

  given that the wire running from it was currently unplugged.

  She reached under the edge of the netting, almost touching the camera, her fingers grasping

  for the dangling wire. If she could only reconnect it, Amanda could take over the surveil ance. It was no use—she was too far above it, and to move any lower would risk her being discovered. But

  Charlene was not one to be discouraged. She squirmed her upper body slightly farther off the ledge and stretched out, her fingers now only an inch or two from the wire.

  She lunged and grabbed hold of it, the wire firmly in her hand.

  The worker who had entered the enclosure only a minute earlier, the man whose hair she had

  dusted with sand, now came back through the twin doors and shut them. There was no time for

  Charlene to retreat. Instead, she hung over the wal ledge directly above him, her left hand holding the wire, her right keeping herself from fal ing.

  The man stopped and put down a white bucket.

  “Wel done.”

  Charlene heard the voice—a woman’s sterile voice, uncaring and even rude, if uttering two

  smal words could be made to sound rude.