Zack & Zoey Save Walt's Brain -or- Tinker Bell's Time-Travel Tragedy Read online

Zack & Zoey Save Walt's Brain

  or

  Tinker Bell's Time-Travel Tragedy

  by MJ Ware

  Book 2 of the Zack & Zoey Series

  © 2013 by MJ Ware - Artwork by Gemma Moody

  Additional front matter and legal information.

  For Morgan

  * * * * *

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1 – Cast Members Only

  Chapter 2 – Behind the (Moldy) Curtain

  Chapter 3 – Time-Travel Taffy

  Chapter 4 – Churro Chunks Save the Day

  Chapter 5 – Two Heads Aren't Better than One

  Chapter 6 – One Step Ahead

  Chapter 7 – Marionette Mayhem

  Chapter 8 – Saved by the Tick of Time

  Chapter 9 – Hey, Mom, I'm Not Dead

  Chapter 10 – Super Scientist, Super Model—Super Sunny

  Chapter 11 – The Many Boogers Theory

  Chapter 12 – Autonomous, Ram-Jet Flying Robot Attack

  Chapter 13 – Tinker Bell Tutu Tragedy

  Chapter 14 – Autopia Madness

  Chapter 15 – Auto Versus Churro

  Chapter 16 – Attack of the Killer Dolls

  Chapter 17 – The Terrible Teacup Tussle

  Chapter 18 – Nauseating Nuptials

  Chapter 19 – Tinker Bell Takes Flight

  Chapter 20 – Miraculous Matterhorn Mashup

  Chapter 21 – Blood, Sweat, and Shoelaces

  Chapter 22 – Susie and Tommy Sitting in a Tree… V-o-m-i-t-i-n-g

  Chapter 23 – Big Ears, Big Secret

  Dysgraphia Awareness

  About the Author

  * * * * *

  Chapter 1 – Cast Members Only

  I admit it: I've done some stupid things. I usually get away with them. It's what comes later that always seems to bite me in the butt.

  "Let's do the bobsled ride." I looked up at the huge mountain, covered in fake snow even though it was almost ninety degrees in Anaheim.

  "Zack, the bobsled line is forever," Zoey said while eating a five-dollar churro, which she refused to share with me. "We can ride Pinocchio again."

  "Pinocchio stinks!" I got into the Matterhorn line, knowing they'd follow me. "I have gotta see the snow monster."

  "I'm with Zack." Tommy Traddles trailed after me. "I want to see the new animatronic Abominable Snowman too."

  "Tommy, you'll agree with whatever Zack says." Zoey sighed, giving in. "Sunny, why'd you pick Tommy for a Park Buddy?"

  "I didn't. He picked me," Sunny said, following us. "Besides, I don't know why you're complaining. I'm the one who had to wait outside the Haunted Mansion because it makes him cry."

  "Hey, I'm standing right here." Tommy crossed his arms.

  "At least he doesn't try to lock lips with you every time you ride Pirates." I glared at Zoey but stopped, worried she might take it for flirting.

  "Pirates is, like, the most romantic ride ever." Zoey savored her last bite of churro, sticking her tongue out at me as she popped it in.

  "I'm not the one who brought a backpack," Tommy said, as if there was something wrong with being well prepared.

  "My mom only gave me a twenty for food. I had to pack lots of candy," I told him. "Which I had been sharing with you." I zipped up the pocket Tommy'd been swiping Twizzlers from.

  We were stuck in line for almost an hour before we could even see the front of the ride. Annoying other people by swinging the line's chain was the only thing that made it bearable.

  I was about to fall asleep standing up when I was pushed from behind. "Make way. Move over. Coming through."

  The school bully, Susie Jo Sikes, shoved us out of her way, followed by Randy 'The Snapper' Stevens, and little Lanny, the shortest girl in our class, the perfect height to either kick you in the kneecap or punch you in the kidney.

  "Hey! No cutting in line," Zoey shouted. She was one of the only people in our grade who'd even dare speak to Susie Jo—and that included a few of our teachers.

  Fortunately, Susie and gang just kept right on going.

  "Little girl." A tall skinny lady, who apparently had no idea what the word little meant, stepped in front of Susie. "Are you cutting in line?"

  "Mom, mom! This weird lady won't let me pass." Susie waved ahead to some imaginary parent near the front of the line. "I'm trying to get to my mother, if you don't mind. She has my inhaler." Susie elbowed around her when the lady didn't move fast enough.

  "Some people are so rude." Little Lanny gave the lady a dirty look as she passed.

  When we were about to finally get to the bobsleds, the line took a sharp left and entered a maze that wound around inside the base of the mountain. What a dirty trick. We still had miles to go.

  "I thought there were supposed to be less kids on Back to School Day," I moaned. "I mean, how many schools send kids to a theme park on the first day of school?"

  "Apparently a lot," replied Zoey.

  "It's fewer kids, not less." Sunny put down her book. "This trip is a one-time thing. The school won't do it again next year. They're just trying to create a new more student-friendly image."

  She was reading something called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. That sounded like a great end-of-the-world book, but from the cover—a muscled-out boy riding a unicorn—it was probably a teen romance novel in disguise. I made a note to myself not to let her trick me into reading it, like she did with The Tiger Rising—that stupid tiger didn't eat anyone.

  "You mean like not feeding us to ravenous aliens?" I said, recalling last year's faculty-sponsored extracurricular activities that resulted in some of our classmates being eaten by slimy green aliens.

  "Hey," Tommy cut in. "Did you know they keep Walt Disney's frozen head right here inside the Matterhorn? They plan on re-animating him someday."

  "That's the lamest thing I have ever heard," Sunny said. "His cells would sustain irreversible damage from ice crystals that form during the freezing process."

  "That's what strikes you as wrong about freezing Walt Disney's head?" Zoey looked from Tommy to Sunny as though she didn't know who she should slap first.

  "Not if they filled his head full of antifreeze," Tommy protested.

  I wasn't buying the frozen head story, but I didn't think I could wait in line a minute longer. I pointed to a door along the side of the mountain that read, Cast Members Only. "Let's go see if we can find him."

  "I don't want to lose my mouse ears." Tommy stroked his hat, which was custom embroidered with his name right across the front.

  "I still say they messed up your hat," I told him. "It clearly says, Tammy."

  "There's no way I'm sneaking around, looking for Walt Disney's head." Zoey crossed her arms.

  "I guess you're outvoted, Zack," Sunny added. "Because I'm not that stupid, either."

  "Tommy." I put my hand on his shoulder like we were best buds. "Think of what we might see back there, all the secret inter workings of a real theme park ride." My other arm draped around Zoey. "And Zo, I bet there's all kinds of dark secluded corners, just the right size for a pair of romantic kids to cuddle up in."

  Zoey blushed.

  I didn't usually talk like that to her. I could tell I almost had them. "Forget the 'Happiest Place on Earth.'" I lightly bumped my shoulder against Zoey's. "I call it the 'Most Romantic Place on Earth.'"

  "I'm in." Zoey squeezed my hand.

  "A pair of romantic kids? Really, Zoey, is that all it takes?" Sunny shook her head, sending her curls bouncing around her face.

  "I guess I'
m just a fool for love."

  "Well that lover-boy stuff won't work on me. I'm staying put."

  "Fine, then I guess it's just the three of us." I didn't stop to think about what a stupid thing I was doing (which is really the only way to go, when you're doing something seriously stupid). Making sure no one was looking, I turned the handle, and the three of us popped through the door.

  "I can't believe you are ditching me. You guys are going to get in so much trouble," Sunny said as the door swung closed.

  Chapter 2– Behind the (Moldy) Curtain

  We were in a long hallway. The walls bare, except for a couple layers of peeling white paint. The floor was wet but covered with those rubber mats you can walk on. The place smelled a little like Friday's gym socks.

  "Yuck, this is not romantic." Zoey turned up her nose.

  "Come on. I bet the romantic nooks are farther back."

  On and on we walked, past a sign reminding cast members to always behave in front of guests. We went up a dimly lit wooden staircase, and down another. We walked along moldy corridors and down hallways that almost looked abandoned.

  "Zack, I think we're lost," Zoey finally said.

  "We're not lost. We're just exploring. Like Tom and Becky in the Indian cave."

  "Didn't Tom get lost and almost die?"

  "Yeah, but he kissed Becky." I waited a second to allow that to sink in but stepped back, just to make sure she didn't try to land one on me right then. "Besides, this is a theme park for kids. What's the worst they could do if we got caught?"

  "They have their own jail," Tommy said, looking around as if security might pop out and nab us any second. "They work closely with the Orange County Sheriff's Department."

  "I don't think they kissed inside the cave—" Zoey grabbed my arm. "Did you hear that?"

  "Someone's coming," Tommy squeaked.

  "Quick, in here." There was a large but otherwise plain door a few feet away. I ripped it open and shoved them in, quickly closing it behind me.

  "Oh, no. We shouldn't be in here." Tommy was visibly shaking. "We're going to get banned from the park!"

  Tommy was right. I had no idea where we were, but this place had to be off-limits. It was like some sort of space-age mad-scientist research facility. And seeing as it was built deep inside the guts of the Matterhorn—it was a safe bet it was supposed to be a secret.

  The room was filled with electronics and gadgets, dismantled robots, and half-built computers. Wires were strung everywhere, and I worried that anything I touched might zap me.

  "Whoa." Zoey pointed to a big stainless steel cylinder with tubes coming out of it.

  Across the front, in big bold letters, was written:

  WALT DISNEY

  "It can't be," I said. "This must be someone's idea of a sick joke."

  "Speaking of sick." Tommy clutched his stomach while staring at the head. "I think I might lose my lunch."

  "Guys, I think someone's coming," Zoey said. "The sound's getting closer."

  "Quick, find someplace to hide," I ordered.

  "How about under that sheet?" On the far side of the room, a large white sheet was draped over something huge, about the size of a backyard storage shed.

  With a click, the doorknob began to turn—we didn't have time to find anyplace else.

  "Let's go." We all dashed under the sheet.

  As soon as we got under there, I knew it wasn't a good place to hide. We stood on a big steel platform surrounded by curtains of wire, glowing tubes, and blinking LEDs. There was even a slight hum coming from what looked like a big spool of bare wire directly above us.

  Chapter 3 – Time-Travel Taffy

  "Mr. Night, sir. When are they delivering the biological test subject?" asked a shaky voice that couldn't have come from more than ten feet away. He sounded even older than my grandpa.

  "You mean the ape?" replied someone else with a deep, almost sinister voice. "The Florida park wouldn't release a monkey to me."

  "But you're the VP of Advanced Theoretical Imagineering," the first guy said.

  "Yes, but they wanted to know what we needed it for." He made a low throaty growl. "Humph… Someday, Montag. Someday I'll be running this place. Is the ERB device warmed up?" His voice painted a picture of a big, dark man, who hated kids and drank Drano for breakfast.

  "Let me check, sir." I think some knobs and levers were being pulled. "It's almost ready. I just need to set the spatial chronometer coordinates."

  Zoey stared at me with eyes big as baseballs. Tommy was doubled over, as if he might puke any second. I just shrugged.

  "Good, good. I want to test it as soon as it's ready."

  "But sir, without a test subject, we can't determine if biological transmission results in cellular decohesion."

  "You told me you were sure it would work, Dr. Montag." His voice seemed to make the room darker. "You didn't mislead me, did you?"

  "No, sir." He paused. "I'm sure it will work. It's just… There are so many variables. There is always a minute chance something could go wrong."

  "Nonsense. Why, you're almost as smart as me. You'll be fine."

  "Me?" His voice cracked. "B—b—but, sir."

  "Don't argue with me. Pull off the sheet and get on the platform."

  "Sir, I don't think I can."

  "Get your wrinkly keister on there, or I'll pick you up and throw you on."

  There was a scuffle. When the grandpa-sounding guy started screaming, I realized it was escalating to an all-out brawl.

  "Now's our chance," I whispered. Tommy was still doubled over, so I started to push him out. He had one foot off the platform when the machine made a big boom and flashed. I couldn't see or hear a thing. Everything was suddenly blank, except for the sensation of falling. It wasn't the fun kind of falling, either—more like when you have a bad dream, and you just keep falling and falling and falling.

  It felt as if my feet were being tugged on, stretched out. Then my legs, and it kept going. I was a piece of taffy, being pulled across miles and miles. It didn't exactly hurt, but I felt like the waistband on a worn-out pair of underwear.

  I lost hold of Zoey's hand and continued stretching. Even my thoughts seemed to reach out. It's safe to say I was a little bit freaked out.

  Suddenly, like a rubber band, I snapped back. A moment later, the lights flashed on.

  We all stood still, under the sheet, looking at each other like we'd just been through a washing machine, then spin dried on high. Tommy was bright green and promptly fell over.

  "What was that noise?" It was the deep voice that belonged to Mr. Night.

  "I don't know, sir. Something fell, over by the old Einstein-Rosen bridge device." This wasn't the old dude. It sounded like a young guy—definitely someone else.

  "That thing was a big waste of eighty million dollars." The sound of shuffling feet came toward us. "I'll check it out. You just get the interface back up. Drill into his darn skull, if you have to."

  "Sir, I'd prefer to avoid any invasive procedures. If I can just—"

  "This entire park, not to mention the future of the world, is dependent on that brain. Now drill," he said as the sheet was ripped off of us. "What the—"

  "Umm, is this the fast-pass line?" I asked.

  Chapter 4 – Churro Chunks Save the Day

  Mr. Night stood before us. He was pretty old. Mostly bald, except for in and around his ears, and his chin sported a goatee that was thinner than my grandma's.

  "Grab them!" he shouted, looking at the scientist guy standing behind him.

  The old man was nowhere to be seen. This guy was young, skinny, and wore a surgical mask. Still, something about him seemed vaguely familiar. "Sir, what are kids doing in the ERB device? And it's smoking. That machine hasn't been turned on in years."

  I stared across the room, but it took a second to fully comprehend what I was seeing. Sitting on top of a transparent box—filled with a yellow fluid and tons of tubes and wires coming out of it—was a human head. <
br />
  A severed human head.

  A severed human head that was pink and still looked alive.

  A severed human head that was still alive and looked an awful lot like Walt Disney.

  But that wasn't even the strangest part: There were all these electrodes connected to his neck running to a huge bank of what appeared to be small, high-tech computer boards.

  The scientist guy held a power drill in one hand and some sort of red, glowing probe in the other.

  "Zack, let's get out of here." Zoey started pulling me and Tommy towards the door. I kept my eyes on the head, half-expecting it to open its eyes and start talking.

  "Traddles, stop them."

  "No, it can't be. I don't believe it. It's not possible." The masked scientist seemed to be having a breakdown. I figured it might have been because he was standing next to a disembodied head—seemed like that might be enough to do it.

  "You kids, stop!" Mr. Night cried. "You are in big trouble!" He reached out to grab us.

  I thought we were caught, but Tommy stood up straight, belched, and then projectile-vomited cotton candy, ice cream, and overpriced churro all over the front of Mr. Night. I had no idea so much barf could come out of such a little kid.

  "Ohhh, that feels soo much better." Tommy wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

  "Run guys, run!" Zoey headed for the door.

  "No you don't—" Mr. Night, covered in a sticky, slimy mess reached out for us. But as soon as he took his first step, he slipped and landed in Tommy's hundred-dollar pile of partially digested junk food.

  I turned for the door but stopped. What about Walt Disney? I mean, he practically invented the modern theme park. That made him, like, the patron saint of fun. I couldn't let some creepy scientist guy drill into his brains, could I?

  Mr. Night sat on his rear, surrounded by a pile of puke, rubbing his head as if he didn't quite know where he was.

  Zoey and Tommy made for the door. I ran over to the head.

  It looked alive. I wasn't sure if I should take it. I wasn't sure if I could take it. I mean, picking up a severed human head is among the more messed-up things I've ever done.

  "I can't believe it. It's impossible." The scientist dude stared at me. Nervous breakdown or not, he was still holding a drill to Disney's skull.