“Found it!” the bigger man said. He held up a box with a lot of wires running out of it. “I knew the guys had borrowed it.”

He tucked the box under his arm. The two men reached the door. The thin man stopped at the light switch.

“Hey,” he said, “did you turn on the lights when we came in? Because I didn’t.”

“I don’t think I did.”

Finn felt sweat trickling down his rib cage. He calculated the distance to the emergency door, ready to run for it.

“Well,” said the big man. He switched off the lights.

19

FINN’S FIRST DECENT look at the contents of Jez’s diary came as he, Amanda, and Philby awaited the Park’s opening. The main parking lot was a steady stream of arriving vehicles. Awning-covered shuttles were used to transport visitors to the Park entrance. The shuttles were stacked up at the back of the lot awaiting use. The three kids sat on a shuttle bench together and reviewed their personal photocopies of Jez’s journal in detail.

Finn had always pictured a girl’s diary to be line after line of neatly written cursive on well-organized pages, the contents of which held secrets about her love interests. What he saw here surprised him. Jez’s was a stream-of-consciousness collage, a collection of images, sketches of animals, and musings. There were clothing receipts pasted into the pages; pieces of postcards, stapled; a fortune cookie fortune taped to a page; there were recipes, movie ticket stubs, pieces of torn photographs; ribbons and candy wrappers. There was an arch that looked like the letter M, with a blob of ink on the right side. Surrounding and interweaving it all were lines from poems, song lyrics, comments, and what looked like quotes from conversations she’d had. It was all mixed up into a mess of heavily scribbled pen and pencil.

“Are these supposed to mean something?” Finn asked, fingering the three photocopied pages.

“They must have meant something to her,” Amanda said. “Jez took her journaling very seriously.”

“And at what point did she cut off her ear?” asked Philby. “Go van Gogh.” He won a few smiles.

“Look,” Finn said, indicating the upper right-hand corner of the photocopy. “That’s a castle and a lightning bolt.”

“That’s what I told you about,” Amanda said. “And look down here.” She pointed to what was obviously a monkey.

“Yeah, but this could be coincidence, right?” Philby said, sounding somewhat apprehensive. “Are we actually going to believe a person can see into the future?”

Finn looked over at him with a dumbfounded expression.

“Okay, okay. But it doesn’t mean everything on this page is significant,” Philby protested.

“How do we know it isn’t?” Finn asked.

“This is several nights’ worth of dreams,” Amanda said. “You can tell because some are pencil, some pen. The movie tickets and postcards—that stuff is memories, reminders.”

“But what about this decal, or whatever it is?” Finn asked.

“No idea. A stamp, maybe,” Amanda said.

The letters were reversed, the image backward.

“There’s a tiger, a gorilla, and…what’s this, a bowling pin?” Finn turned the page upside down, but couldn’t quite tell what he was looking at.

“I think they’re all clues,” Amanda said.

Philby exhaled loudly, so as to be noticed. “We all want to find her, Amanda. But if we go chasing down sketches from her diary, then that’s a lot of valuable time that could have been spent looking for her.”

“I think we can trust this,” she said.

“We need more proof,” Philby complained.

“We have a castle and a lightning bolt!” Finn pointed out.

“On opposite corners of the page. There’s also an aqueduct, some balloons, and a railroad track.”

“These are dreams, not instant replays,” Amanda told Philby. “She had visions. Glimpses. How much of your dreams, your nightmares, do you remember? Bits and pieces are what I get. Sometimes more than that, a piece of a story, but not that often. Maybe we all dream pieces of the future but just don’t happen to know it. How often do we write them down or make sketches and keep track? She left us clues, Philby.” She waved the photocopy in the air. “This is the map of her dreams. Maybe she didn’t know she was leaving it for us, but there’s no ignoring the castle and the lightning, is there? So maybe not everything on here is helpful. It probably isn’t. But we won’t know that until we check it out. Right? We’ve got to check out each thing on here, because if even one other thing on this page can help us find her—” She covered her mouth with her fist, on the verge of crying.

“I’m just saying we don’t have much time. I’m nodding out like every other minute. We fall asleep and we may stay asleep forever. That’s what Wayne said. I just want us to use our time efficiently, that’s all.” He studied the sheet. “For instance, who’s Rob?” In several places on the cluttered page Jez had written, Change Rob.

“Rob Bernowski,” Amanda said. “From school.”

“A friend? Boyfriend? Or what?” Philby asked.

“A little of both, I think.”

“And she wants to change him? And this is relevant to us, how?”

“I don’t know. Sure, I guess. She put that into the journal in a bunch of places.” Amanda opened up the journal and flipped through several pages around the ones they had copied. “The way she writes it, it’s like she’s really set on it.”

“So are we supposed to talk to Rob about this?” Philby asked sarcastically. “You think Rob has her?”

Amanda glared at him.

Finn asked, “What can it hurt to call him? I don’t see why we don’t follow up on everything we can. Am I missing something? What if this is important, and we ignore it?”

“That’s why you called the meeting, isn’t it?” Philby asked. “I say we put it to a vote. We could spend all day chasing a bunch of meaningless ramblings, and we haven’t got all day. How much longer can we stay awake?” He yawned, and then Finn and Amanda yawned right along with him.

“Stop it,” Finn said.

“We’re out of time here,” Philby complained, “and we haven’t even started. I’m going to have to call my mom at some point, or she’ll have the cops out looking for me.”

“We’ll put it to a vote,” Finn agreed. “But in the meantime, we’re going to make a list of everything on this page and what it might mean, no matter how far out.” He addressed Philby. “We’ll do it scientifically.” He said this knowing it would appeal to him.

“I can get behind that,” Philby said.

Amanda looked over at Finn, her eyes red and shining behind tears she struggled to hold back. But her eyes also had a twinkle in them. She seemed to be thanking him. Finn reached out and took her clenched fist in his hand.

“We’re going to find her,” he said.

20

MAYBECK APPROACHED the bat enclosure from the Maharajah Jungle Trek path. The enclosure was quite large, with colorful prayer flags strung between the facade of a fake building, rock walls, and the large boxlike frame that supported a wall and roof of mesh netting. A three-stage viewing room had been built along the path. A ranger would be on duty once the Park opened at 9 AM, but for now it stood empty. Maybeck avoided the viewing room, just in case, staying outside, moving along the perimeter wall of the netting. He left the path and entered the jungle, keeping close to the enclosure’s netted wall.

It was only then he saw the birds. His first reaction was one of astonishment. He thought it beautiful in a way—a thousand or more dark birds so crowded into the treetops that large branches bent under their weight. He thought how fortunate he was to see such a phenomenon—that it probably only happened in the early hours before guests arrived and scared away all but the most brazen of the wild creatures that had adopted the Animal Kingdom as their home.

Then he noticed something strange about the birds: they all seemed to be looking right at him. He knew this was impossible, and yet…The thrill of astonishment gave way to the electric jangle of raw nerves. They were looking right at him.