Kingdom Keepers: The Syndrome (10 page)

I eased closer, wary. The gentle curve of a red piece of paper protruded from the pocket. I felt Mrs. Whitman behind me but didn’t turn, my full attention on Finn. Drawn hypnotically to
the pocket, I reached the side of the bed and pulled Finn’s shirt down to smooth the fabric. In doing so, the red curve of construction paper slipped further out of the pocket. I could see
the curve; it was attached to another similar curve.

A red heart.

From downstairs came the anxiety-ridden voice of Mr. Whitman. “She’s gone! She ran away!”

In the bedroom, Mrs. Whitman nodded, granting permission to my unspoken request. I reached out tenderly and slipped the paper heart from Finn’s pocket.

“How did I miss that?”

I wasn’t sure if I’d actually heard Mrs. Whitman say that, or if I imagined it.

The lopsided heart had been cut crudely with a pair of dull scissors. But I thought it looked perfect, because I knew it was intended for me. I turned it over and recognized Finn’s awkward
handwriting.

My favorite Fairlie:


Our time in MK could fill a jar to overflowing.


Should I be stuck, it’s yours for the knowing.


Mrs. Whitman’s chin nearly rested on my shoulder as she read from behind.

“What’s it mean?” asked the all-knowing rocket scientist.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I collected myself. “It means he needs us.”

JESS

I reread the message on my phone. It had come through moments before.

I sighed. I’d been half-hoping it would have magically changed. But magic didn’t work that way. I should know.

JG for Joe Garlington, the Imagineer responsible for the Keepers. Technically, he was my and Amanda’s boss, as we were interning. If they’d discovered I’d been sneaking out at
night, or worse,
into Disneyland
at night, I was probably about to be fired or expelled.

I hadn’t talked to Mr. Garlington in over a month.

I had to think I’d been seen on security footage or that the guy installing the lock had recognized me somehow. I’d blown it. I was about to lose everything I loved.

Best-case scenario, I’d be given the chance to explain that I was helping the Keepers and be let off with a warning. That didn’t make me feel any better.

At least Amanda wasn’t involved. Maybe she’d be able to stay in the school.

The butterflies in my stomach didn’t listen.

I hopped a dorm shuttle over to the Disney campus, absentmindedly staring out the window, only vaguely aware of my tapping foot and wringing hands.

Too soon, the ride came to an end, leaving only the short walk to Joe’s office between me and my fate.
Deep breaths
, I instructed myself.

As I raised my knuckles to the wood Joe’s face appeared. He’d swung open the door, startling me.

“Jess!” he greeted me. “Come in! Sit down!”

I forced a smile and made my way inside. Joe’s office was a brightly lit room, nicely sized and fairly tidy—except for a large stack of papers on the desk, which were piled close to
avalanche heights. I noticed subtle hints of Disney everywhere: a Vinylmation stood next to the desk lamp; concept art of the latest Disney parks hung on three of the walls. The fourth was entirely
windows.

I sat down on the edge of the leather desk chair opposite Joe. In spite of the air conditioning, I could feel myself sweating like a kid in the principal’s office. I caught myself
fidgeting and sat on my hands. I wasn’t about to convict myself by acting guilty.

Joe leaned back in his chair, apparently far more comfortable with the situation than I was. “Jess, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

I forced a polite smile, though it came out more as a grimace. “Oh really, what’s that?” I did my best to match his laid-back tone, hoping he couldn’t hear my voice
shake.

“I promised to protect you and Amanda from Mrs. Nash, but I’ve had an inquiry.” He paused, allowing this to sink in. Brought his hands and fingers together as if in prayer.
“You and Amanda mentioned the government’s involvement. What gave you that impression?”

For a moment, I was too stunned to answer. I’d been convinced my world was about to end, and here it appeared that Joe didn’t even
know
about my latest adventure. My grimace
transformed into an outright grin. Waves of relief washed over me, leaving me light-headed.

Joe leaned forward, confused by my strange reaction. “Mrs. Nash is one thing; she was breaking the rules anyway, but…” He trailed off, wanting me to finish the sentence.

I did my best to quit smiling like a maniac. My elation was dimmed somewhat as Joe’s question registered. Amanda’s and my past had always been something to run from. I was suspicious
of Joe’s sudden curiosity, worried by his implication that the questions were coming from someone else. I had done my best to put my history behind me; wasn’t that the point of the new
internship, our move cross-country?

I studied the curtains as I thought, finding hidden Mickeys in the elegant spiral pattern, making Joe wait as I carefully composed my answer to be as vague as possible.

“Well, there were scientists. We were told that we were doing a great service to our country, so we assumed it was the government. It seemed like something they would say.” I
stopped, wanting to share nothing more.

Joe continued staring at me expectantly.

“Umm, yeah.” I added lamely, hoping to signal that I was done.

Joe studied me a few seconds longer, letting me squirm under his gaze before leaning back in his chair. “That’s all. Thank you.”

I practically skipped toward the door. I wasn’t about to press my luck.

My hand on the knob, I thought back to Barracks 14, to my latest dream. Now Joe was asking about our past. I’d been searching all over Disneyland for answers, but perhaps I’d been
looking in the wrong places. I didn’t believe in coincidences, and when it concerned Amanda and Barracks 14, I couldn’t leave any stone unturned.

I sighed internally and turned around.

“Joe?” I called out.

“Uh-huh?” He’d already buried himself in the stack of papers at his desk.

“A dream I’ve had…”

Joe looked up sharply. He knew the power of my dreams.

“Guys from Barracks 14 were capturing Amanda.” Now I had his full attention. “I want to help her. I
need
to help her. But I don’t know how.”

Joe was out of his seat before I finished my sentence, shoving his phone in his pocket, pushing handfuls of papers into his briefcase.

“We have to act quickly. Have you ever flown on a private jet?”

MATTIE

At first, there was darkness and silence. But as my consciousness returned, I heard all sorts of other noises—beeping, humming, the distinctive buzz of overhead tube
lights.

When I opened my eyes, I was on my back looking straight up. Blue drapes hung around me, forming partitions. Most of the beeping and humming came from the digital displays on nearby
machines.

I was in a hospital. The emergency room.

Images and memories trickled back into me. Luowski had hit me, smacked my head against some bricks. He had found me, figured out my power. He’d hurt me. My body felt like one giant bruise.
It hurt to move, to breathe, but those were the least of my concerns.

Despite my muddled memory, I scrambled to remember what I’d learned from touching him. A threat of some kind…but I couldn’t place it.

The sounds of hurried footsteps brought me back to the present. Voices rose as they approached. I shut my eyes, pretending to sleep. Eavesdropping on the doctors might be easier if they thought
I couldn’t hear.

Someone took my wrist. I continued to play possum, hoping my pulse—if that was being taken—wouldn’t give me away.

The grip was rough for a nurse. It felt more like a pro-wrestling move.

The voices grew closer.

The person next me took hold of my forearm. My skin. I was suddenly reading this guy. Definitely not Luowski. Older, but not old. A strong thinker. Determined.
On a mission!

This last thought woke me up more quickly. It was as if I’d jumped onto one of the moving sidewalks in an airport, but heading the wrong way. I had to speed up to stay even. If I ran, I
could beat the speed of the belt under me.

I let my thoughts ramble forward, into this guy’s immediate past. He’d traveled here. He knew me by name.

He was Barracks 14.

The beeping of the monitor, loud and fast, kept time with my suddenly speeding heart.
Baltimore
. I could see the guy’s image of carrying me out of here. A white van. He envisioned
handing me off to someone in the back of that van.

The chattering voices out in the hall arrived to my area. The hand let go of my wrist. I heard the side curtain flutter and I struggled to force open an eyelid

Here came a doctor and two nurses, the source of the voices. When they saw I was awake, they began asking me questions. They waved a light in my eyes. More questions. How many fingers were they
holding up? The doctor felt under my chin. He listened to my chest.

I couldn’t speak. It had nothing to do with my physical condition. The only thing I could think of was escape. I had been discovered, and I needed to get out of here.

I was not going back to Barracks 14!

I yawned pointedly and rolled over; I ignored the rest of their queries and pretended to sleep until the last nurse left the room.

As soon as I heard the curtain whistle on its track, I shot out of bed, wincing at my pounding head and sore muscles. I was partially clothed; I searched for and found my shirt, jeans, and
running shoes. Getting into the skinny jeans tested my patience. Finally, I spotted behind me a row of horizontal windows much wider than they were high. All had levers for opening. I climbed up,
using the machines as my ladder, and quietly moved the nearest lever. The window lifted up from the top, and was hinged to only open partially. I struggled to fit through the small space available
to me; it forced me to lie down into it in order to slip out. I rolled, dropped, and landed hard on a ridged metal roof.

Biting back the scream that wanted to burst from my lungs, I crawled along the edge until I found the hospital’s fire escape, checked for anyone below who might see me, and climbed down
the fire ladder. Dropping to the pavement, I ran hard and fast, ignoring my aching, stinging limbs. I had to warn to Amanda. Barracks 14 was here and they were coming for us.

We needed to leave, to cover our tracks and never come back. Our escape would have to be carefully planned. We could ill afford more attention.

The running cleared my head. My earlier reading of Luowski came back to me. His internal struggle against outside control. His fear of the trouble he would be in if he followed his present
orders. I knew those orders as well.

Luowski was about to destroy everything.

AMANDA

Luowski’s raid the previous night had ended with the police arriving at the Whitman house. Insurance adjusters would follow the next day, but that night, the police were
told about the pair of teens who’d been caught entering the house, “presumably to rob us,” as Mrs. Whitman put it.

I was told that Mr. Whitman did a decent acting job, claiming that a blow to the head, the result of a fall, left the exact events unclear. This allowed Mrs. Whitman to do all the reporting, and
ensured that their stories didn’t contradict.

Wanda was my source here. She and Mrs. Whitman rescued the comatose Finn just prior to the arrival of the police; they carried him into the carport and placed him in the backseat of
Wanda’s car, so he was gone by the time the badges came knocking.

Finn slept peacefully that night in the room I’d been using. I happily took the couch and slept past noon the following day. Mrs. W came to visit her son. She and Wanda talked and agreed
it was not yet safe to return Finn home. He would remain at Wanda’s for the short term.

I slept fitfully that night. I felt sad, afraid, and alone. I wanted desperately to see Jess. We texted until late my time and I fell asleep in the glow of my phone’s screen.

Re-reading the texts, I wondered if Joe was up to something. Maybe Jess understood it, maybe not. Her messages were too cryptic for me to get much out of them, and I didn’t want to push
her to tell me more. For the first time in forever, our relationship felt strained, like we were pulling on the same rope from different ends—and each claiming to do it for the sake of the
other. It was maddening. If I pushed for more information, I’d be seen as prying; if I didn’t, uncaring.

I remembered seeing a massive tree once that, on inspection, turned out to be two separate trunks entwined. At the top, the trunks split off into separate crowns. It was a spectacular sight. Now
I begged whatever powers were out there not to let Jess and me grow apart like those trunks. I had zero desire to be my own crown of limbs and leaves; I refused to believe that the time had come to
grow apart. But that’s what it felt like. And it was solely our own doing.