Kingdom Keepers: The Syndrome (14 page)

Jess and Mattie gasped.

Finn lay comfortably in the bed, fully clothed. Sleeping.

“We have to get the others,” Wanda said, “before Joe finds them.”

“Or Greg Luowski,” said Mattie.

“And we have to figure out this,” I said, kneeling on the carpet alongside Finn’s bed. I peeled the plastic lid off the treasure I’d unearthed and spilled the contents
out onto the floor.

MATTIE

Studying Finn’s blue can with Amanda and Jess felt oddly alienating. It reminded me that I hadn’t been part of so many of their shared adventures. We had our time in
the Barracks together, but thankfully, that now felt like another world.

After all I’d learned in the past few days, I hoped we could keep it that way.

It was strange: being alone and by myself actually felt better than being alone with others around. The connection between Jess and Amanda would never be matched. When they were together, there
was no way not to feel like a third wheel.

“When you touch this stuff, do you get anything?” It took me a second to realize Amanda was talking to both Jess and me.

I shook my head. “It’s only living creatures for me. I’d love to be able to read a deck of cards, but I can’t.”

“I’m not having any flashes,” Jess said. “I’ve had more of those lately, but not now. Maybe I’ll dream something at some point.”

“He left this for you, right?” I asked Amanda.

She nodded. “Pretty sure.”

“But it doesn’t mean anything?”

“I’m sure it does,” she said, “but not to me. I’m not getting it.”

“Knowing Finn,” Wanda said. “It’s something very clever. It won’t be any one part, but all the pieces together, just like the Keepers.”

“Well,” Amanda said, “all the pieces together are a lot of junk.”

We all laughed in spite of ourselves.

“Keep trying,” Jess said. She grabbed my elbow and pulled me aside as Amanda turned over the items on the floor. “I need your help,” she whispered.

“Sure. If I can!” I felt less alone already.

“I need you to read an Imagineer. He’s the guy who flew me out here, the guy who started the DHIs. There’s something off about him. I need to know if he’s still on our
side.”

“Yeah. I mean, I can try.” I hesitated, but decided not to tell her that I didn’t like to read people unless it was absolutely necessary. Seeing so many private thoughts took
its toll. Crawling around inside the heads of others could be frightening.

“I know it’s hard, Mattie,” Jess said. “It’s important, or I wouldn’t ask.”

I nodded, and we hugged. “Tell me where to find him.”

“You can get backstage using my pass. It won’t take long.”

“Right,” I said. “All I need to do is figure out how make physical contact with a complete stranger, an adult who’s one of the most important people in Disney.”

The last part never came out of my mouth, but it swirled around in my head the following day, when I was on my way to Disney’s Hollywood Studios.

MATTIE

I arrived backstage at Disney’s Hollywood beneath a tall water tower that had ears. Definitely Disney. Nearby, a trolley drove park visitors around. In and among some
warehouse-like buildings were nested a few one-story bungalows. The second of these, according to its sign, was the building Jess had described to me as Imagineer’s headquarters.

I wasn’t about to go in and face some receptionist who’d just tell me to get lost, so I sat down and waited—for a long time. A few people came and went, but not much happened.
I began to grow impatient.

Worse, not far from me, two attractions beckoned: Rock ’n’ Roller Coaster and Tower of Terror. I had gotten in for free! I had no desire to waste my entire morning on what seemed
like a hopeless mission. Jess wanted me to read Joe and find out what he knew about Barracks 14. Even the mention of our former prison stirred unease in me. I’d never go back. I
couldn’t.

“Can I help you?” The man’s voice startled me.

“Oh, I, uh…” I stammered, turning quickly.

Two men. One of them was Joe Garlington. “I…ah…well, I was…Aren’t you Mr. Garlington?”

“Yes? And you are?” Joe studied me. He exuded naturally pleasant curiosity. Not a creep. Not a person hiding something.

“Excited!” I answered.

“Are you one of our inter—?” Joe cut himself off, his eyes on my ID tag. I should have thought to turn it over or hide it after using it to gain entrance. “Would you
excuse me a moment, Alex? I’ll catch up to you.”

The other man nodded to me, patted Joe on the back, and headed toward the building I’d been staking out so poorly.

“That’s Jess’s ID,” he said, his voice lowered.

“I’m Mattie. Mattie Weaver. A friend of hers and Amanda’s.”

We were about to shake hands, giving me two options: I could keep an open mind and read his surface thoughts, or I could mentally name either the Barracks, the Keepers, or Amanda, and Jess and
see what came at me.

The contact would happen fast. I reached out, already naming Jess and Amanda.

As he took my hand in his, Joe stood up a little straighter. I should have guessed a person with so much creativity would be a Reacher. They’re as rare as four-leaf clovers—the
handful of people who can use the door I open between us to read me. Thankfully, most Reachers don’t know what they possess. For them, it must be like stepping from the dark of a tunnel into
the light; they see, but not clearly.

My reading for Jess and Amanda connected and came back at me in a mass of confusion. Joe’s confusion. Like radio wave interference, both of us saw static.

“Do you work here?” Joe asked as he released my hand. He definitely seemed more interested.

I smiled and relaxed my shoulders, attempting to look natural.

“You’re a Fairlie,” Joe continued, his voice sincere. He returned the smile.

“Yes.”

Bombarded with thoughts—his thoughts—as the static lifted, I wondered if he was experiencing mine as well. I didn’t know what I was looking for, what exactly Jess was after.
But I read concern, sincerity, admiration, curiosity, and determination. All these feelings centered on the girls, but I failed to pinpoint any specific information.

There were pieces of sentences he’d spoken. “Social Services.” “Pixar.” “Archives.” “Fairlies.” “Inside Out.” “Prehistoric
scales.” But I also saw images of a dozen different park attractions, including Avatar Land in Animal Kingdom.

With a start, I realized some of the images had to be before-and-after scenes. It was all too jumbled. I couldn’t trust the read of a Reacher.

He had an appointment. I was holding him up.

“I don’t mean to keep you,” I blurted out.

“You’re a mind reader!” he said playfully. “As a matter of fact, I do have a meeting to get to.”

I swallowed what felt like a golf ball.

“Well, it was nice to meet you,” I mumbled. The sooner I got away, the better. If he came to realize he’d read my thoughts, he would sense that I was predatory. I
couldn’t be sure how someone so important might react to that.

I turned to leave.

“You’re right to be concerned,” Joe said. Had he read my mind?

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t help myself—I looked back at him.

“It’s dangerous for you three.”

I took off running.

JESS

Park lights glowed through a futuristic landscape. The Carousel of Progress, a time capsule of sorts, one of only a couple of attractions older than the park itself. Something
drew me to it, through the queue, and into the theater, a force as unexplainable as a dream—

The realization that I was dreaming woke me up, and I shot bolt upright in bed, drenched in sweat, my heart pounding.

The Orlando weather was going to take some adjustment, I realized. I felt as though I could hardly breathe through the humidity. A year ago I’d been able to run around in this blast
furnace without a second thought! Clearly the SoCal weather had spoiled me. If only Wanda had AC.

As it was, the humidity was making it hard to sleep, too; something I didn’t appreciate. I’d faced enough sleepless nights in the past week. And now yet another dream, one in which I
recognized the attraction. That required investigation.

Three middle-of-the-night bus rides later, I was showing my Disney ID to a toll booth security guard at the back of the Magic Kingdom. He swiped the ID. I was admitted, but I was also in the
system now, which couldn’t be good.

Walking down Main Street, I felt an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. I had done this exact same thing on the opposite coast. The week of snooping around the parks was wearing on
me.

Reaching the Central Plaza, I turned toward Tomorrowland.

Unlike my visit to Disneyland, I reached my destination without incident, something I celebrated as a small victory. Nothing seemed out of place. Slowly, I reached out and touched the oversized
cogwheel that displayed the attraction’s name.

It hit me hard, flashes behind my eyelids so forceful that I sank to my knees, frightfully aware I was locked in a daydream.

I saw a man, here, on this very spot. The angle of view changed and more men appeared behind him, not one man but three, all eerily similar. Two, dressed in costume. Though barely conscious, I
reached and found my sketchbook and pen in my back pocket and I began drawing.

As the vision ended, I slumped against the wall. Yet another mystery to solve. But one thing was clear; whoever these men were, they were bad news, and they were after the same thing we
were.

My first dream of the night had led me here, looking for something that I suspected had to do with Finn’s apparent disappearance. If I’d told Amanda about my dream, she’d have
wanted to come, to investigate the area. But it would benefit no one if our paths were to cross those of the men I’d seen.

Would Amanda be led here by something other than my dream? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I needed to keep her away. She was an adult now, like me, and could take care of herself, but
after all we’d been through I felt responsible for her well-being.

I studied the sketch in my hand, weighing my options. I didn’t fully trust Joe. Actually, I flat-out did
not
trust Joe, and I was sure my flight from the Grand Floridian
hadn’t exactly earned me brownie points with him, either. The Keepers were MIA; I wasn’t ready to explain this to Amanda, who was with Wanda. The man I’d gone to with these kinds
of questions for the past six years was dead. I didn’t know what was going on, and I needed help.

I needed to think outside the box.

The Box! The nickname of a weekly live video podcast by a Disney connoisseur named…Louis? Lucious? Lou! Mongello of WDW Radio.

Lou knew everything about Disney. Perhaps he would know one or more of the faces I’d just dreamed.

To my delight, an Internet search revealed that he would be filming an interview with an Imagineer at Disney’s Hollywood Studios in the morning. It felt like a sign.

I took the time to explore the Carousel of Progress, having only my dream to go on. Nothing else surfaced, and I left thirty minutes later feeling defeated.

The park buses had long since stopped running, so I walked to the Contemporary Resort hotel and hopped a Cast Member bus to the Boardwalk. I relaxed enough to enjoy the warm night as I walked
toward Disney’s Hollywood Studios. I’d gotten a late start, waking up from my dream at three
A.M
. It was now nearing seven. The sun shone above the horizon, and
I knew Lou’s filming would start within the hour.

Backstage at Disney’s Hollywood Studios, I had no idea of where to go while I waited for the park to open and Lou Mongello to arrive.

The Imagineers worked backstage here. Lou’s interview would probably bring him to their offices. Why not?

Eight o’clock. Things picking up.

I passed a group of women in professional clothing, not costumes, with the Sorcerer Mickey name tags worn by the Imagineers. I was in the right place. Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I
let them pass and stopped the next costumed Cast Member to ask for directions.

As I walked backstage, I spotted Joe’s name on an office door. I had time, and I wanted answers. While I was not about to march into his office and ask him what was going on, I
wasn’t above a few minutes of basic surveillance.

I stood off in the corner, watching Joe’s door.

A man in a suit knocked. The door opened. He and Joe stood outside the office, talking in hushed tones. I moved to get a closer look—and caught sight of the tie worn by Joe’s
guest.

I nearly fainted. I knew the pattern on the man’s tie. Knew it only too well.

The only time I’d ever seen it, I’d been in Barracks 14.

With no idea where I was going, I ran, Lou Mongello long forgotten. The park was open now, and I entered through a door at the end of Streets of America. I pushed my way through groups of
guests, mumbling apologies over my shoulder. Frantic, I looked for an escape. Gasping, I slipped into Writer’s Stop, a small store on the corner, and sat down on a couch in the back, shielded
from the windows by a long line of caffeine-deprived parents.

No one gave a second glance to a girl who looked like she was in desperate need of coffee. And I did my best to stay composed on the outside. Cheery, groggy, just another girl waiting for a
friend at an hour far too early for a teen to be up anywhere except Disney.