Philby would know what to make of it all. She wished she possessed such a mind as his.
Heavy black arrows were stenciled onto the crate pointing up, with THIS END UP! stenciled below.
A red light flashed on the wall. Two of the four men got to their feet.
“What the…?” the lead worker said.
“Everything okay?” Charlene said.
The light stopped flashing, and the workers noticeably relaxed.
The other man standing said, “Someone hit it by mistake.”
“Obviously,” said the leader. He told Charlene, “It is the lift signal from stage level, warning to stand clear.”
“But there is no show going on!” explained his companion. “No reason for lift signal.”
Philby, thought Charlene. Warning of trouble.
Enough! She’d done her reconnaissance; there was no need to push it further.
“I’ll be back in a half hour to feed it,” she said.
“Whatever you say, miss.”
She was caught off guard by the sound of someone coming quickly down the stairs. She had no desire to be caught by the Overtakers—2.0 or not. The speed of the descent signaled trouble; she could feel it in her bones. Best to hang her head and hurry quickly out of here.
“Julia!” A girl’s voice. A somehow familiar voice from outside the room, but not Willa.
“You’re wanted upstairs immediately!” A second girl’s voice, also familiar.
Charlene had just stepped through the open doorway, now wishing she could reverse her decision and hide. She wasn’t Julia. She was in trouble.
The two girls were up the stairs a short distance, looking down at her.
Charlene’s breath caught; her throat constricted. She could hardly breathe.
Amanda and Jess, their shoulders bearing faint blue outlines.
Jess waved for her to hurry.
Amanda said, “Maybeck’s got them cornered.”
* * *
The Vibe was rocking. Open until two a.m. and celebrating a day on the beach and a successful Beach Blanket Barbecue, the teens had swarmed into the club after the ship had sailed. The music pulsed, the projection screen was showing a film, and the various gaming stations were surrounded by kids. Finn kept the ball cap pulled down low as he pushed through the crowd like a man possessed. The encounter with his mother had jarred him, had loosened the lid on the semblance of order in his life, first disrupted at Typhoon Lagoon. What was he supposed to do to save her? How was he meant to combat Maleficent’s extraordinary powers? Would anyone other than his fellow Keepers even believe him if he appealed for help? He was about to find out.
“Bogey, two o’clock,” spoke a familiar voice from over his shoulder. He turned to catch Dillard Cole in profile. It was the second time Dillard had come to his rescue. Who had nominated him as Finn’s guardian angel?
He turned as advised. Luowski was talking to several other kids, all a head smaller.
The music beat louder all of a sudden. A popular song. The dance floor crowded, the going difficult. Kids didn’t usually dance much; what the heck was happening?
He needed to get past Luowski into the next room if he was to find Storey Ming; she wasn’t anywhere in sight. But it was like the kid was the devil’s apprentice guarding the gates to the fiery furnace. Was Finn required to confront Luowski in order to get past? He had no desire to test that theory. So far Luowski hadn’t noticed him.
He took a moment to try to force all clear. Unlike his experience with Maleficent, he remained unchanged.
Keeping his cap low was all-important—he wanted to avoid Luowski, and he also couldn’t risk being recognized. Any fan attention would work against him. He spotted a pair of pirates by the club’s only exit: Cast Members still in costume from the island party, he hoped.
He’d led himself into a trap. Where better to look for teens like him than in the Vibe? He’d been an idiot to come here.
“Not that way.” Again, Dillard’s voice over his shoulder. Again, he turned only to see his friend’s back.
Finn turned away from the pirates and the exit, heading along the near wall in order to avoid Luowski on the far side of the thick crowd. He reached a dead end, the only doors leading to two restrooms. Beyond Luowski, out on the Vibe’s private deck, Storey was giving a pottery demonstration. She might know a way out of the club—if he could reach her to ask.
He entered the restroom door marked BUOYS. Stalls to his left, a line of urinals, and across from them, sinks. At the far end, another door. The restroom could be accessed from both sides. He cut across the space, not stopping to use a urinal, his eyes dancing in every direction.
“Perv!” said a kid standing at a sink and watching Finn in the mirror.