The gull continued its uncharted path, riding the air currents, watching the waves lap to shore. The same every night; it never tired of the sight. It would land soon and hunker down for the night, head tucked into its wings, awaiting the stir of a morning breeze.
It headed lower and lower, passing over some brush that ruffled in the breeze. It circled this once, having memorized nearly every speck of terrain in its domain. Out of curiosity it dove and landed on the pile. Its feet hit something cold and hard beneath the brush. Metal. It worked to move the brush out of the way, exposing more white metal and a label.
DANGER:
PROPANE GAS—UNDER PRESSURE
The gull did not have what humans think of as memory. But there were images floating around in its pea-size brain. One of those images was of a person carrying a tank with an identical label as this one earlier in the day. The human had placed it on the back of a golf cart. This tank was identical to the one that had been removed. It also connected to the same black tubing as had the other. A second tank, identical to the first. A tank undiscovered by the humans.
* * *
Propped on Charlene’s shoulders, Willa could see water in the distance. But this was an island, a small island, so spotting water hardly won her any points. This was their fourth attempt to see over the jungle top and the first offering any success, limited as it was.
“I’m sorry,” Willa said, back on the ground again.
“It’s not your fault. Stupid jungle is too high.” Charlene thought for a moment and said, “No ship?”
“No.”
Charlene then drew an arrow into the sand of the narrow path.
“So…no ship this direction. And what about the water? Where did you see it?” She handed Willa the stick she’d drawn with.
Willa engraved the path’s sand with wavy lines in the direction of the arrow and to the right. The two girls studied their map.
“So there was shore along here?” Charlene asked.
“There was.”
“Last night…when we rode the lifeboats and snuck ashore…the sun set behind the ship to port, remember?”
“Ah…if you say so.”
“Trust me. It did. So…look at the shadows.” Charlene pointed into the thick undergrowth. The plants were crosshatched with sharp, angular shadows.
“So the shadows are pointing east because the afternoon sun moves west.”
“Correct.”
“And if the sun set to the left of the ship…”
“The ship is docked basically aiming north.”
“So the beach is on the south side of the island!” Charlene said. “If we head south, by the time we reach water…”
“We should be able to see the Dream. It’s not a very big island, and it’s a very big ship.” She exhaled loudly. “Only one problem,” Willa said. “The paths are totally random. And there are a zillion of them.”
“We can do this,” Charlene said.
“And if we can’t?”
“What’s the first thing the Professor will do when they can’t find us?” Charlene said in a know-it-all voice.
“Philby? I suppose…I don’t know…maybe check the server to try to see if we’re in SBS. Can he even do that?”
“The server, yes,” Charlene said. “He’ll do a manual return in case we’re somehow DHIs.”
“Note to Charlene: we’re not DHIs. We won’t return.”
“No…but there’s no one smarter than Philby. First, he’ll try to return us, and then—?”
“Oh my gosh! You think?”
“I know.”
* * *
Shutters, the cruise ship photo display area, was really high-tech compared to similar shops on older Disney ships. The same expansive gallery was there—walls and partitions covered in hundreds of professional photos of passengers on arrival day, at dinners, with characters, and with the captain. The gallery spread out to Deck 4’s balcony overlook of the atrium. Here were rows of handsome wooden “post office” boxes from which guests could collect their ordered shots. A marvel of organization and efficiency.
Finn decided to check it out, to follow up on the missing-kid photo. He located the most recent shots—guests on Castaway Cay with the Dream behind them—and searched for the picture. It took him several minutes, but he finally spied a shot of two kids in which the ship behind them was cut off. The photo had been cropped. A tall kid about Finn’s age had quite possibly been cut out.
He approached the desk.
“Excuse me,” he said, passing the photo to the Cast Member, a young woman. “I think there was a third boy in this photo. Do you mind checking?”