“The hardest part of all of this,” Maybeck said, “at least for all of you, is looking older than you really are. Thankfully that’s not such an issue for me.”
Philby cringed. “Give me a break,” he muttered.
“It’s true,” the driver said. “We can use some makeup to try to help, but those of you in costume must remember that Cast Members are eighteen and up. So act it where possible, and avoid encounters with Park visitors as much as you can. Whatever you do, don’t talk to other Cast Members. It’s a family here—even as big as it is. Cast Members know the other Cast Members. You will be found out.”
“That’s encouraging,” Maybeck said sarcastically.
“That’s reality,” the driver said.
“Yeah?” Maybeck snapped a little testily. “Well, that would be the first time we’ve dealt with reality in a long, long time. So pardon me if I don’t recognize it.”
“Any questions?” the driver asked.
He hoisted the truck’s rear door. And while the sun had not yet risen, they found themselves in a vast, empty parking lot, alongside several steel-sided, mostly windowless buildings that looked like warehouses. The sky was fully aglow with the push of dawn as the kids climbed out of the truck and hurried to follow the Dapper Dan.
16
THE DRIVER SHOWED THEM into the Cast Services building. Even if the lights had been on, it still would have been gloomy and creepy inside, with its rows of hundreds of abandoned lockers. But under the hazy glow of the dim, off-hours lighting, the place looked positively haunted. Not one locker had a person’s name on it, nor did any of them look used—no scratches, decals, graffiti, or dents. Nothing like the lockers at school.
“This was originally going to be where Cast Members changed for work,” the Dapper Dan said, “but it became impractical because of the distance to the Park. But if anything goes wrong—a missing button, a broken zipper—it comes here. The building’s only open a few hours a day.”
The six kids stood just inside the building. The driver walked past and unlocked an interior door to the left of a narrow counter, behind which was a retractable metal barrier, padlocked shut.
“Make sure this is locked behind you. When you’re ready, you cross the roads out here. Stay to the far left of the parking lots. There’s a pedestrian entrance on West Savannah Circle. Philby, if you find you need anything mechanical, any tool of any sort, the adjacent structure is the maintenance facility. The animation training lab is in that building as well. Parts for anything you can dream of to do with the Animal Kingdom can be found over there. You can use these IDs to access it and any other facility,” he said, handing each of the kids a plastic ID card. Finn’s card had his picture on it and a fake name, Finnian Thomas, with a fake address. “Each of you is in the system as an employee of the company—and you’re all in there as being eighteen. So if anyone should ask…the department you work for is on there as well. Memorize it. These will get you into and out of the Park via the pedestrian entrances, allow you to charge food, buy merchandise. But don’t abuse them. In most cases, you don’t need them to go backstage. But in certain buildings, certain facilities, you may, so keep them handy. They get you past the electronic security. Whatever you do, don’t lose them. I’ll need them back, and I’ll need to destroy them.”
There was a noise then, like the wind: a swishing, whooshing sound, as if someone had left a window open. But no one felt a breeze, and not a hair moved on anyone’s head. However, quite a few hairs raised on the back of Finn’s neck.
“What was that?” he asked.
The driver turned to the door they had come through. “I’ve got to go,” he said. “You’re on your own from here on out.” He was gone in an instant. His hurrying off so quickly added to the sense of impending danger.
He closed the door a little loudly on his way out. The boom echoed around the building.
“Check it out,” Maybeck called to the others. He was holding open the door that the driver had unlocked. The others stepped forward and peered inside. The ceiling was thirty feet overhead, steel beams with cross supports—all unfinished and basic. Displayed before them were fifty or sixty rows of clothes hanging from steel pipes. The rows stretched from where they stood to the far side of the building, fifty yards or more.
“Oh…my…gosh,” gushed Charlene.
There had to be thousands, perhaps hundreds of thousands, of garments—every kind of Animal Kingdom costume and Cast Member outfit, in every size. And accessories: hats, boots, belts, buckles, backpacks, clipboards, pointers, pens, notepads—in containers on shelves just above the clothing that matched their theme.