Disney After Dark (6 page)

“It has to be all of you. You understand that, don’t you? All or nothing. Youngsters your age, you always think it’s all about you, only you. I can promise you, it has to be all of you.”

“I want to help you.”

“You have no choice,” he said. “At some point you’ll understand that.”

Finn felt the words like drumbeats in his chest. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I thought it was a dream at first,” Finn said.

“And now?”

“Now I don’t think so. I don’t know exactly what it is if it isn’t a dream, but I don’t think it could be a dream.” He hesitated and said, “I saw the moon.”

Wayne nodded and cocked his head curiously. “Yet something’s bothering you.”

“Charlene said it isn’t safe. You basically said the same thing.”

“And yet here you are. You came back,” Wayne said.

“You brought me back.”

“Did I? Not exactly. This is a two-way street, young man. You’re neither hologram nor human.

You’re something in between, I think. The holograms don’t think for themselves, and they speak only what you recorded for them. How much you are…one or the other…may depend on your thinking;—what you’re thinking, how you’re thinking it. So I’d be careful of what I was thinking, if I were you.”

Finn spotted a large gold bear by the entrance to the Jungle Cruise. He shook his head to clear his eyes since the bear was walking on two feet and there was what looked like an oversized rat jogging to keep up with it. “Is that…?”

“What?” the old man said excitedly.

“Pooh and Piglet?”

“Is it?”

“There!” Finn said, pointing.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Wayne was quick to lose his patience. “I don’t see what you see.” He sounded frustrated.

“Pooh and Piglet.” Finn was certain now.

“What are they doing?”

“Walking away from us.”

“Anything else?”

“You’re kidding, right?” Finn felt like some kind of translator.

“I told you: things are happening in the park. We—you and your friends, actually—need to stop them.”

“The Overtakers.”

“Yes.”

“It isn’t safe,” Finn repeated.

“No, it’s not,” Wayne said, agreeing.

“What’s that mean, exactly?”

“What did you think of the park as a small child?”

“Magic,” Finn said without a second thought. He still thought of it as magic.

“Exactly,” Wayne agreed. “But there are two sides to magic, yes? Good magic is what you’re talking about. But there’s other magic besides good magic.”

“Black magic,” Finn stated.

“A layman’s term, but yes, a darker side to magic that few if any fully understand.”

“Do you?”

“Heavens no. But Walt did. He wrote about it. He made films. Invented characters. He understood its seriousness, its potential for…but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Potential for what? Evil?”

“Let’s just put a pin in that. We’ll come back to it.”

Finn climbed into the front seat of the golf cart. His feet disappeared. They weren’t simply in shadow; they were…gone. He felt a little faint. “My feet,” he gasped.

Wayne explained, “The hologram imaging system isn’t set up to project to all locations. There are places we call shadows. Like dead spots where cell phones don’t work. Inside some attractions they will be visible—
you
, the DHIs, will be visible. Other locations, maybe not. Your feet inside a cart, for instance,” he said, pointing, “not so good. You may be able to control this. We don’t know for sure. You’re the first of your kind.”

Finn glanced down at his missing feet. It wasn’t so bad.

“Okay?” Wayne asked.

“Okay, I guess.”

Wayne pressed the accelerator. The cart lurched forward.

“Where’d you get your license?” Finn asked, holding on for dear life.

“What license?” Wayne answered, his eyes sparkling.

Four or five dark, shadowy figures streaked across the intersection in front of the cart. Wayne didn’t see them. Finn reached over and jerked the cart’s steering wheel, narrowly averting an accident. Wayne braked to a stop.

“You nearly paved those guys,” Finn exclaimed.

“What guys?”

“The—” Finn couldn’t complete the sentence. Wayne hadn’t seen them. Then Finn said,

“Pirates.” He pointed to their left. “But not exactly pirates. They look more like…”

“Like what?”

“More like robots…Like the lifelike pirates in Pirates of the Caribbean. And Finn realized that was it: they weren’t people, but Audio-Animatronics figures that had somehow come alive. “Never mind,” Finn said, not wanting to sound crazy. A group of the figures was pushing a line of smal blue cars ahead of them. Finn thought he recognized the cars but couldn’t associate them with any particular attraction. He was stuck on the idea that some of the AAs—but they were only
machines
—had come
alive. Was that possible
?

Wayne asked, “How many?”

“Five…no, six, including the guy with the hat.”

“Interesting. What guy with a hat?”

Finn didn’t want to go there. He’d call them pirates and that was that. “You really can’t see them?”

“Me? Heavens, no. I see the cars, but nothing else,” Wayne said excitedly. “And if you can see them, then maybe you can stop them. Or at least
try
to stop them.”

“Stop them from what, exactly?”

“Three nights ago at the end of the Fantasmics show, the dragon set Mickey on fire.

Obviously, that’s not supposed to happen. Mickey is supposed to win. He jumped into the water.

He’s all right. The crowd laughed. They didn’t get it. But Mickey could have…He could have…

could be in some serious trouble. And then what?”

“But those are actors, right?”

“The dragon is a machine, an Audio-Animatronics machine. But that machine malfunctioned, didn’t it? It did something that it’s not programmed to do. How is that possible? How can that be explained?”

Finn thought, What a strange old man.

Wayne said, “You think I’m a strange old man.”

“Do not.”

“You’re the chosen leader of the DHIs. Don’t question it. Accept it. Without you, Finn, there is no plan.”

“What plan?” Finn gulped. Wayne seemed so serious all of a sudden.

Finn sensed something behind and to his right. He spun around and saw her. Charlene.

His breath caught. She was…glowing. A fuzzy light sputtered at the edges of her body and all around her head, like a halo. She wore a white nightgown. Her hair danced in the wind.

Some distance behind her stood Philby. He wore school clothes, like Finn. Finn recognized him immediately. They were missing Maybeck and Willa.

“Hey there!” a gruff voice called out.

Finn turned. The pirate in the black hat was addressing him.

Me
? Finn’s expression said, though he kept his mouth shut.

Wayne asked, “What’s happening? Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he warned.

Charlene and Philby moved steadily closer.

Wayne, appearing distraught, admonished Finn. “You must not get ahead of yourself!”

Finn climbed out of the golf cart. Then, concentrating, he walked right
through
the cart to the other side. It’s all about what I’m thinking, he realized. If I focus on being a DHI, I’m nothing but light.

A shimmering Charlene approached a tree. She tried to walk through, but crashed into it instead. “How’d you do that?” she asked. “Why can’t I do it?” she asked Wayne.

Wayne seemed flustered. “You all need more time.” He glared at Finn.

The harsh grinding of metal dragging on pavement interrupted them as the pirates pushed the line of blue cars.

The one in the hat, with a broad moustache and thick black beard, hollered out, “Ahoy, there, matie! Lend us a hand, if you will.”

Finn stayed where he was.

“I said lend a hand!” hollered the elaborately dressed man. Behind him, the more scruffy pirates—
machines
!—pushed and dragged the blue cars. All of a sudden, Finn recognized them as the cars from the Buzz Lightyear ride. He’d been on it dozens of times.

“I’ll pass, thank you,” Finn said.

“Pass? I gave ye an order, me boy. Now heave to!” the captain growled.

“An order? I don’t think so.” Finn replied.

Charlene stepped back and dragged Philby with her. They ducked behind the tree.

“The name’s Blackbeard,” the man said. His mouth moved like a puppet’s. His arms and legs moved stiffly. His eyes mechanically shifted, from the left to the right, their motion disconnected from his speech.

Finn felt a spike of fear but hid it. “Is that so? And I suppose I’m Jack Sparrow?” he asked, smirking.

The captain stepped forward boldly, still a ways off. “Is ye now?”

The pirates stopped their pushing. They gathered behind their captain.

Finn counted six in all. They were dressed in ill-fitting costumes. They had scars on their faces and scabs on their hairy legs. They went barefoot, wearing dark pants that stopped at their calves, and blue-and-white striped shirts. But they weren’t human.

Blackbeard drew his sword. His six pirates drew knives. “I said lend a hand. You’re my conscript now, lad. I’d be obliged if you hove to.”

“You’re not ready,” Wayne hissed at Finn from the shadows. “I’d help you if I could see them, but I can’t.”

Finn felt a jolt of terror, unsure what to do. His legs, wobbly and rigid, were unwilling to move.

He figured he could run faster than a bunch of mechanical pirates but wasn’t sure he wanted to test that theory. Besides, he couldn’t budge.

Finn looked back. Four glowing eyes, like cats’ eyes, shone from behind a tree. Charlene and Philby.

“What are you doing with those cars?” Finn asked the captain, stalling.
Think
!

“You might could say I’m borrowing them, laddie. Or you might could say the Space Ranger Spin is under repair.” He tilted his head and cast an evil eye in Finn’s direction. “I’ve seen you before, Jack Sparrow. Now, where would that be?”

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Finn said.

“He’s one a’ them hosts, Captain,” a smallish man with frog eyes called out. The man’s right arm continually lifted up and down, up and down. This was apparently the motion he made in his role in the attraction, and he couldn’t stop it.

“A host!” the captain declared. “A new ride? Is that what ye’re telling me?”

His pirates mumbled.

“We don’t much care for new rides,” the captain explained in a dry, cold voice. “Don’t much care for them at all.”

“Do I look like a ride?” Finn asked. His voice trembled. “I’m just a boy.”

“You’re
my
boy now,” the captain declared. “Ain’t he, lads?” His pirates all nodded in chorus.

He said to Finn, “Now…be a good boy and lend us a hand.”

“I’d prefer not to,” Finn said. “If you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.” He summoned his courage and turned.

“Ye don’t turn yer back on the captain, youngster! I said
halt
!”

Finn stopped and glanced back over his shoulder. The captain signaled his crew, and they reacted immediately, like a bunch of well-trained dogs. They fanned out. They were not exactly fast on their mechanical legs and feet, but they were steady and worked well as a team.

One of the pirates climbed into a Space Ranger car. He aimed its toy laser cannon at Finn and fired. A bright red pulse of light shot through the night, narrowly missing Finn. He’d ridden the Space Ranger Spin himself a dozen times or more. He knew there was nothing to fear; he’d put his hands into the laser’s light stream before. Nothing ever happened. The laser cannons were no more dangerous than a flashlight.

Another thin red line of light flashed. Again, it missed.

But then Finn realized the cars were not plugged in, were not attached to any ride, had no power source. So where did the electricity for the cannon come from?

As if to answer him, the next pinpoint of light struck his arm. A red bead flickered on his shirtsleeve. The fabric instantly turned brown, then gray. Then…
ouch
!

It burned him! Finn leaped out of the way.

“Hey!” he blurted out.

He smelled burning hair. His hair. His skin.

The laser was
real.

Another flash. Finn dodged out of the way. He avoided the next few attempts as well, the red beams flying past him like glowing arrows. He danced left and right, his arm stinging.

Now the other pirates circled and closed in on Finn, their knives extended.

If a toy laser can burn, what is a very real-looking knife going to do? Wayne had warned him that he was half hologram, half human. Only now did he realize his human half could hurt.

His wounded arm looked less transparent all of a sudden. He wondered if his fear made him more human than hologram. He pushed against the fear, as if he were trying to shut a heavy door.

A gray-haired pirate with a peg leg
thump, thump, thumped
his way closer. The circle closed around him. Now Finn could smell the pirates: oily, like an old car, and faintly electrical.

Charlene called out to him from behind the tree.

The captain raised his sword higher, trying to follow that voice. “Reinforcements, mates! Be ye ready!”

Two of the younger pirates closed in on Finn. They walked stiffly and slowly, like six-foot-tall toy soldiers. Finn circled to his right, away from them. He dodged two more attempts from the laser. One of the pirates was hit in the process; the captain raised his hand to stop the laser assault.

The two young pirates, their knives glinting, pressed ever closer.

The captain, with one knee cocked, his foot perched on the lead car, thundered, “Well, now, laddies! Serve him up like a fine filet!”

“Hey, dog breath!” It was Philby. He stepped out from behind the tree.

All six pirates turned toward Philby at once.

With the pirates’ attention briefly diverted, Finn sprang for the nearest Space Ranger car. He grabbed hold of its laser, swiveled and fired. A pulse of red light shot out. Finn was a veteran of Space Ranger Spin. He winged the pirate in the car ahead of him, not ten feet away. The pirate didn’t seem to feel it—he
was
a machine.