Kingdom Keepers V(124)

“And what does a spy do to convince you they’re not a spy?”

Finn said nothing.

“But it turns out they really are a spy. So when the time comes that you really, really need them, that’s when they ruin everything.”

“He’ll show up,” Finn said.

“He’d better,” Willa said, “because we’re running out of options.”

* * *

Maybeck hurried to keep up with the two Cast Members. Down the companionway. A few minutes and several decks later, it was out the amidships doors and left toward the pool. Upon reflection, he’d been in too big a hurry. He’d walked right into the trap, whether he’d been set up or not.

“Whoa there!” It was Greg Luowski and another guy. Both dressed as Cast Members. They could have been the two he’d been following or not; he had no way of knowing.

“It’s past curfew,” came a zombie voice from behind him. Older Cast Members. Two guys. But Cast Members for real, unlike the imposter Luowski and his pal. The two new arrivals looked dull in the eyes, as if under a trance.

“Four against one,” Maybeck said. “I hope you have some backup.”

Luowski looked like a tree trunk with a head of hair. Maybeck tried to avoid appearing impressed. But as always, his mouth was governed by different rules.

“You been lifting?” he asked.

“I bench two ten,” Luowski answered proudly in a conversational tone.

Maybeck realized he’d stumbled onto the kid’s weakness: vanity.

“Can curl one twenty. I’m working on that one,” Luowski said.

“You know the thigh cruncher?” Maybeck said, having no idea if there was such a workout machine. “Two forty.” He patted his own thighs.

“Big-time,” Luowski said.

“The better to run with,” Maybeck said. He plowed right through the kid to Luowski’s left. Took him out like a tackling dummy, knocking him flat on his back before the kid had a chance to blink.

For his size, Luowski was fleet of foot. Maybeck’s lead shrank to a few paces, forcing him to change direction. He put his thighs to work on a rising, curving stairway, only to be forced up a steel stairway and then realizing it was the stairway to the AquaDuck slide.

He heard the thunder of people following him and took it to be all four of Luowski’s gang, having no idea if two of them were the couriers he’d followed from the stage entrance. A two-person inner tube float awaited him at the top, the water churning in the acrylic tube of the waterslide. He dove onto the raft, but with no one to operate the tube’s launch it just lay there, stuck atop a conveyor belt, forcing him to climb out and move the raft into the tube. He was off.

Behind him, one of the Cast Members dove into the tube without a raft. He bodysurfed, head up, and came at Maybeck like a torpedo. Behind him was a second Cast Member, feet first. Following up the rear came Luowski and the fourth kid on an inflatable raft like the one that held Maybeck.

He saw all this while moving a million miles an hour in a roaring plume of water like soda in a straw and he, one of the bubbles. The clear water tube ran off the deck of the ship, where Maybeck was suspended 125 feet above the tossing seas below. Maybeck tensed at the sight of nothing beneath him, and the torpedo kid caught up, grabbed the raft, and pulled himself on. Maybeck spun around and kicked, but the guy grabbed his leg and pulled hard. Maybeck slipped on the rubber and nearly fell off, but a sudden turn to the right loosened the kid’s grip and Maybeck broke free. The raft lurched in the turbulent water, skidding up one side of the tube tunnel and across to the next. The rocking slowed him down, and suddenly Luowski and the Cast Member were upon him. The raft squirted out from under him. Luowski had him by the shoulders and climbed on top of him, holding him down in the water. Maybeck’s lungs burned—all three of his pursuers had pieces of him, keeping him from surfacing. He was going to drown.

As a group, they turned a sharp corner, then quickly another, starting down a long straightaway. Again, the water current threw them up opposing sides of the tube. With each swing Maybeck left the water just long enough to sneak a breath. He wrestled and flexed, but with them teamed up on him three against one, he could not break their hold. They flew down the long straightaway, suspended over a sea of lounge chairs. Maybeck anticipated the upcoming drop and curve to the right, after which the tube opened up and he would slow on a final straightaway.

If they still had him by the end of the ride, he was their captive. He did the unexpected. Instead of using his strength to fight them, he used every fiber of his strength to turn sideways in the tube. He accomplished this only briefly, but long enough to use his length to his advantage. He timed his effort to match the start of the drop. Bridging himself across the tube’s diameter, he jammed his feet against one side of the space and the palms of his hands against the other. Then he pushed hard, locking himself across the width of the tube. It acted as a brake, slowing him. The other three, caught in the full force of the water current as the tube fell away beneath them, broke loose and raced ahead. Maybeck’s hands squealed against the Plexiglas, then slipped, and he fell, banging into the tube and rushing water feet first.