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“Hey!” one of the kids shouted above all the others. “Check it out! Two of them!”
Fi
The two band musicians stumbled out onto the street. They looked back and forth from one Fi
The real Fi
Unable to determine which Fi
Then, with enough distance between himself and his pursuers, Fi
Ten minutes later, Fi
Fi
“Hey, there you are,” Amanda said.
“I was spotted. I got away, but just barely.”
“Will they bust you?”
“Not sure they can without catching me first, without proving it’s me.”
She glanced around. “So what now? How do we get you out of the park without your being caught?”
Fi
“You think? Get a life! Of course they will.”
“You think? Get a life! Of course they will.”
“There’s a guy…an old guy. I think he might help, if I can find him.” Fi
Fi
Amanda studied the two. With Fi
“I know.”
“But they’re pretty far back in the entrance line,” she observed.
Fi
“But they’re just standing there, waiting.”
“So?” Fi
“So, we’ve got to get them to move,” she answered.
“And how are we supposed to do that?” he asked sarcastically. “Call them on their radios and tell them they’re wanted somewhere else?”
Amanda’s brow knit tightly, deep in thought. “They’ll move if they see you.”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“Shush,” she cautioned him. “Come on!” she said, taking him by the hand. He wasn’t sure why, but he let her take charge. There was something about her confidence that reassured him. It felt almost as if she’d been through this kind of thing before—the way she stayed so calm; the way she studied the situation carefully. She led Fi
“Ah—” Fi
Amanda watched. The line was moving along, but the two security guys remained near the Mansion’s entrance.
“Go!” she hissed.
Together they hurried into the open, ducked under a chain, and cut into the entrance line. A bunch of people moaned and groaned. A few openly complained. But as the line surged, Amanda and Fi
Amanda was no giant, but she was an inch taller than Fi
Amanda kept watch behind them.
Fi
Portraits hung on the walls. Fi
Amanda rose up. “Uh-oh,” she said.
“What?”
“They’re pushing their way over here.”
The Stretching Room, jam-packed with people, did not make movement easy.
A loud voice boomed over the speakers, welcoming the visitors to the mansion. It warned them not to lean against the walls. The lights dimmed. Fi
Amanda pulled Fi
“We’re cooked,” Fi
“No,” Amanda said, still leading him. “We’re okay.” They reached a far wall.
Fi
“We’ll use the chicken door,” she said.
“The what?”
“When I was something like five years old, I completely freaked out in here. Screamed my lungs out. Totally lost it.”
As she said this, the room’s floor stopped moving, the painted portraits now stretched grotesquely. A dead man dangled from a noose attached to the ceiling. Some kids shrieked.
Amanda continued, “My mom got me out without having to ride the Doom Buggies. It’s called the chicken door.”
“Here they come!” Fi
“Perfect timing,” she said, smiling.
The two security guys got stuck in the jam, still a few yards away.
One of the wall panels opened like a door. The crowd—fat people, sweaty people, smelly people, bald people, and two teenage kids—lunged ahead.
The moment the door opened, Amanda took Fi
“Run!” Amanda whispered. “We have to hurry.” She led him through an unmarked door immediately to the right. Fi
Seconds later, they headed through yet another door. Outside again, they were only a few yards from where they’d been sitting only minutes earlier, the black hearse and the Fastpass line to their right. The entrance/exit was straight ahead.
The air came alive with the sound of piped-in music and the steady rumble of park guests talking.
Amanda glanced back at the Mansion. Her eyes went wide, and he knew they were in trouble. She practically pulled his arm off as she drew him into a small gift shop. They ducked behind a carousel of postcards.