The Complete Alice Wonder Series - Insanity - Books 1 - 9

by Cameron Jace

  “What?” I am not sure whether to laugh or cry now. “Late for what?”

  “For an important date.” He winks and pulls me by my hands. “I told you I’d see you again in fourteen years. Did you put some weight on?”

  17

  “How did you know I’d be sent to the future?” I ask the Pillar as he drags me into the fire truck.

  “Missed you too, Alice,” he says, climbing up into the driver’s seat. “Now hop in.”

  I climb up, but one of those madmen grabs at my legs and tries to pull me down. I try to kick him away, having dropped my shard of glass, but he won’t budge. The Pillar shoots him instantly with his rifle as if we’re in a zombie movie escaping brain eaters.

  “That wasn’t necessary,” I say, locking myself inside. “You didn’t have to kill him. He isn’t evil. He is just mad.”

  “That’s why I shot him.” He pushes the accelerator, running a few other madmen over. “All of this isn’t real, Alice. We’re in the future.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I hold on to the dashboard.

  The Pillar drives over a set of crashed cars. “The future is like a video game. Shoot the bad guys. And when it’s ‘game over,’ rewind to the past and play it all over again.” He shifts gears. “Now pick up a helmet from the back. We’re going to set this place on fire.”

  “Set the place on fire?” I pull on a helmet. The Pillar never changes.

  “We’re firemen, aren’t we?”

  “Who said we’re firemen?”

  “We have a fire truck. Makes us firemen,” he says, “So we’re going to burn this miserable place down.” He stares at the long line of gasoline he poured earlier, then throws a cigar into it. I remember that cigar. It’s the one from when we were in Mushroomland. “Hang tight. I’ll speed up.”

  “Pillar.” I nudge him as the truck hits bumps on the ground. “You’re overreacting. I’m not sure those mad people want to kill me.”

  “Of course they do. They know who you are.”

  “They know I am Alice? Why would they want to kill me, then?”

  “Because you left the compound.” He turns the wheel. “You see, the Wonderland Compound belongs to the richest of the rich. The ones who left the world to rot after Black Chess won the war and ruled the world.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  “Black Chess, being the greedy Wonderlanders they are, spared the rich, like it always happens, and gave them immunity in exchange for their money and resources on the planet.”

  “Resources?” The truck bumps again. In the rearview mirror, I see the streets are in flames behind us.

  “Black Chess needed to know about every conspiracy theory the humans held in the past. Where they hid Hitler’s gold, who really controlled agriculture, if there’s such a thing as UFOs, etcetera, etcetera. And only the rich knew about it.”

  “So, they collaborated?”

  “Yeah.” He suddenly stops the truck. Had I not used my hand as a shield, my head would’ve bumped against the dashboard. I raise my head to see why he stopped. And now I see it. “Do me a favor and pick up that dog, Alice.”

  Immediately, I jump out of the truck and rush to pick it up. It’s a German shepherd, but it seems to be either wounded or extremely hungry.

  Back in the truck, I rest the dog in the back as the Pillar takes off again. It’s not wounded, so I shelter it and give it water and food the Pillar has stacked in the back.

  I get back into the passenger seat. “You drive madmen over and save the dog?”

  “Madmen had a choice to be either mad or sane. Hell, they had a choice to win the war or lose it. The dog didn’t.”

  Again with the Pillar’s logic. “So if what you’re saying about the Wonderland Compound is true, why do I live there? Shouldn’t I be one of the masses who lost the war? Why would I make a deal with Black Chess?”

  Another bump in the road. “Later, Alice,” the Pillar says. “Now tell me, did you receive the note in the envelope?”

  “You know about that, too?”

  “I’ve been here for a couple of days. I asked around and killed a few people. I even blew up a bridge on the River Thames for the fun of it.”

  “Fun of it?”

  “Like I said, we can always go back in time and correct the future. I’ll send a note to Inspector Dormouse once we go back. I’ll warn him of me blowing up the bridge in fourteen years. Happy? Now, what’s the address in the note?”

  “Oxford University, which means we shouldn’t have left and burned the street behind us.”

  “Oh.” He raises an eyebrow and turns the wheel. The truck loops back a hundred and eighty degrees. “I love how I have the streets all for myself to play with.”

  Once we’re in the right direction again, I don’t let him drive further. I grip his hands on the wheel as tightly as I can. “Pillar. How the heck did you know I’d be here? What’s going on?”

  18

  “Okay.” He sighs, his white-gloved hands on the wheel. “Remember two weeks ago when Margaret fooled Fabiola into thinking she is her insider in the Queen’s palace?”

  “I do.”

  “When I figured it out, I found a way to listen to a meeting in Margaret’s office in Parliament. I heard her talking to unknown members of Black Chess about the next step to get the keys. She proposed using Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock to make you time-travel and locate them.”

  “I assume you know Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock from Wonderland.”

  “They’re the worst of the worst. Exceptionally mean. But you can’t do anything to them. They don’t die.”

  “Because they’re time itself.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because they wouldn’t approach you until everyone thought I was gone. I’m thinking this isn’t just about the keys, but something much bigger. So I let them think I was gone and followed you here to help you. After all, it’s not a bad idea to find the keys all at once.”

  “I’m sure you have your own devious intention to have them, as always.” I eye him. “But how did you time-travel yourself?”

  “I used the Tom Tower. It was risky, but I had a secret parchment with a secret formula by Nikola Tesla — you know who that is, right? — about how to use the tower for time-traveling fourteen years into the future.”

  “Why fourteen years? What’s with the number?”

  “I never knew. I only heard Margaret telling Mr. Tick and Mrs. Tock fourteen years.”

  “This is so crazy.” I hold my head in my hands. “Why send me into the future, not the past, to get the keys? I asked them, but they told me some gibberish I couldn’t fathom.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” the Pillar says. “Nor does it matter how you left a note to remind you about the whereabouts of the keys. Maybe you have been into the future before. What matters is that we find the keys as soon as possible, then figure out a plan to hide them. You can’t go back with the keys, or Black Chess will have them.”

  “Okay,” I say. I like the Pillar when he is on point. “The note says I have to find the Mock Turtle in the Oxford Asylum. You know who he is?”

  “Met him a couple of times in Wonderland. Don’t even remember how he looked. He was pretty much no one. Can we go find him now?”

  “Yes. I needed to know a few things first. God. I can’t believe the university is an asylum now. And did you see Parliament turning into a circus?”

  “Some things never change.” He drives ahead. “Have you seen Mac Burger? It’s Rat Burger now.”

  “Nothing surprises me now.”

  “All but the fact that we may need help to get into the asylum.” He points ahead. I look and see the Oxford Asylum is heavily protected with Red mercenaries after the fire.

  “Just drive through them with your truck,” I say. “We can always fix the past later.”

  “Can’t do it. We need to sneak into the asylum, not break into it, or we won’t have enough t
ime to find this Mock Turtle.”

  “How do we get inside, then?”

  “I have an idea. A rather mad one.” He turns the wheel to the left and guns it through the streets. “Glad to have you back in the future, Alice.”

  19

  THE PRESENT: LONDON

  The Cheshire’s head was about to explode. Not that he’d found answers to what he wanted to know about Alice. But Jack’s continued thoughts, and caring, about the mad girl, began to escalate to another level. A level of something the Cheshire had never experienced before. He thought humans called them emotions.

  “Holy meows and paws,” he mumbled, rubbing his chest. “In the name of my nine lives, what’s that I’m feeling?”

  Jack’s thoughts weren’t based on logic. Not really. Not the way cats would calculate the speed, size, and distance of a scurrying rat. Jack’s thoughts were silver linen to a warm buzz that filled the Cheshire’s chest with light.

  It was a good feeling, actually. A dash of anxiety, care, and total devotion to someone else other than the self. Something the Cheshire didn’t think he’d experienced before.

  He sat down on a bank, opposite the Inklings.

  He was supposed to be ready for when Alice woke up with the keys, deceive her with Jack’s looks, and take them from her, then bring them back to Margaret Kent.

  But now the Cheshire doubted his capabilities. Not with Jack’s fuzzy and utterly silly feelings about Alice. Those weren’t the kinds of feelings of someone wanting to hurt another.

  What in the name of paws and claws was that?

  The thing that bothered him the most was that these were human feelings. The humans he’d hated all his life — and planned to hate for eternity.

  How were they capable of this?

  “Don’t fall for it,” he told himself. “It’s just a facade made by the hypocrite humans. They use it to pretend they love one another while they don’t. It’s a cliché. It’s cheesy, even more cheesy than Cheshire cheese itself. Jub Jub and slithy and full of rotten mushrooms.”

  But still, he knew it wasn’t that. Because Jack was practically dead. And if not, the Cheshire had never possessed a soul that had the ability to mess with his brain.

  These were Jack’s true feelings about a girl he met in school a few years ago. It was so weird that the Cheshire began seeing her picture before his cat’s eyes. Not the usual black and white, but very colorful this time.

  The Cheshire heard his phone ring. It was Margaret. She was probably calling to ask about the progress of her plan. He picked up and said, “Jack speaking.”

  “What did you say?” the Duchess roared.

  The Cheshire hadn’t meant to say he was Jack. He realized that he was falling in love with Jack. Maybe Alice. Maybe both.

  Because who the heck exuded so much emotion toward a person who’d killed them in a bus accident?

  20

  THE FUTURE: OXFORD

  “Where are we going?” I ask the Pillar.

  “To meet someone who’ll help us with sneaking into the asylum.” The Pillar honks for the fun of it.

  “Someone? Who? Are they going to lend us doctor uniforms?”

  “That wouldn’t work with the Reds at this time. They can smell the likes of me and you a mile away.”

  “Then who?”

  “Someone who’s practically our enemy.”

  “Why would we use an enemy to help us?”

  “Because he has a gift like nobody else.”

  “Stop the puzzles, Pillar. Who?”

  “The Cheshire.”

  I say nothing for a moment. I know how much the Pillar and the Cheshire hate each other. I also have no idea how the Cheshire might help.

  “He’s lost his mind in the future. Really lost his mind. He is homeless now. Like most cats in this life.”

  I glance back at the dog we saved. He’s sleeping serenely after a big meal. “Homeless? The Cheshire?”

  “I know it doesn’t make sense. He should be Black Chess’s favorite monster, after all he did for them to win the war.”

  “Then what happened to him?”

  The Pillar stops the truck near an abandoned building. “He’s fallen in love.”

  “The Cheshire?” I laugh. “No way.”

  “Yes way,” the Pillar says. “You didn’t ask with who.”

  “I don’t think I want to know. First, I need the fact that he fell in love to sink in,” I say. “I mean how? He doesn’t even have a real face. Who’d love someone with no face?”

  “I didn’t say he was loved back.”

  “Wow. That’s even more surprising. Are you saying the evil Cheshire is a hapless romantic now?”

  “Indeed.” He jumps out of the truck, pulling his cane along.

  I follow him down. Apparently, we’re entering that abandoned building. “So who’s the unlucky girl? Or is it a cat?”

  “No, it’s a girl,” the Pillar says slowly. “And it’s someone you know very well.”

  “Waltraud Wagner, my warden, would be a candidate.”

  “No, Alice. The Cheshire is in love with you.”

  21

  We step into the abandoned building, passing by a few homeless people. Insane ones, the Pillar says. That’s why he has his rifle with him. I follow him, awaiting an answer to my question: Why would the Cheshire be in love with me?

  “It’s complicated,” the Pillar says, looking sideways, in case we get attacked by another group of mad people. “Let’s start with him not really looking like a Cheshire at the moment.”

  “What’s new? I wouldn’t be surprised if he is possessing a priest.”

  “Worse.” The Pillar ducks, scanning the place. “This time, he is possessing someone dear to you.”

  “Dear to me?” I grimace. “All the people I know are Wonderlanders. I thought he couldn’t possess Wonderlanders.”

  “Only if they’re still alive,” the Pillar says.

  I stop, taking a moment to assess the possibilities. But who am I fooling? There is only one Wonderlander who’s practically dead, and so dear to me. And he has been missing for some time. “Jack?” I cup my hands on my mouth.

  The Pillar nods. “Try not to scream. We don’t want to attract loonies.”

  “Jack?” I whisper, gritting my teeth.

  “Lowering your voice isn’t going to change my answer.” He rolls his eyes. “Yes. Jack.”

  “But we’re in the future. How long has he been possessing Jack’s body?”

  “Fourteen years.”

  “How is that possible? This means I never saw Jack again since he disappeared from the asylum.”

  “You got that right.” He crawls on all fours, and I follow him into a tunnel.

  “That’s why I am not married to him.” The words are tasteless on my tongue. Not that I was sure I wanted to marry Jack. The thought just occurred to me as the natural progress of events. “This is why I am married to that stranger back home.”

  “Exactly. Handsome man.”

  “I didn’t meet him or see him. Couldn’t bring myself to it,” I say. “I freaked out when he called me ‘baby.’”

  “Nothing wrong with your husband calling you baby once in a while.”

  “Shut up.” I pout, still crawling toward a scant light in the distance. “Poor Jack.”

  “The guy is a jinx,” the Pillar says. “Killed by his girlfriend, possessed by her enemy. He was better off dead.”

  “Stop it, Pillar ,” I grunt. “Tell me what all of this has to do with the Cheshire being in love with me. You know how creepy this feels?”

  “Don’t you like his grin? I thought chicks always dig the grin.” He stops for a second. “That sounded too American, didn’t it?”

  “It did.”

  “I’m not really myself in the future, am I?”

  “More smartass than you usually are,” I say. “And how do you still look young? You’re not a day older than when I last saw you.”

  “Good genes.” He winks and th
en crawls on all fours again. “Smoking hookah is good for the skin.”

  “Spare me the cheesiness.” I sigh. “Now how — ”

  I was going to ask about the Cheshire being in love with me again, but then it hits me. “Are you saying the Cheshire was exposed to Jack’s mind and soul?”

  “We’ve arrived.” The Pillar kicks a small door open and steps out. “Try not to let the Cheshire see you before I talk to him first.”

  I follow him into what looks like a large hall in a sewer. Then when I stand up, I see the Cheshire. Oh, my God. What happened to him?

  22

  The Cheshire is sitting on a chair in the middle of the stinking room. Water is dripping somewhere nearby. He is playing cards with a dead mad man on the opposite side of the table. I watch him lay his cards down while in Jack’s body. Then he possesses the man in front of him for the next move. Then back to Jack.

  “Cheshire.” The Pillar approaches him with his rifle in his hand. I stay back like he told me. Seeing Jack having been turned into a puppet on a cat’s string is breaking my heart. I doubt there’s anything I can do for him after all these years. Jack didn’t even flinch for the moment when the Cheshire left his body. The boy must be really dead now.

  “Pillar?” Jack — I mean the Cheshire — says. “Want to play cards?”

  I think the notorious cat has really lost it.

  “I see you have a partner already,” the Pillar says, playing along.

  “He’s dumb,” the Cheshire complains. “Every move he makes, I already know.”

  “Oh, it’s like you can read his mind.” The Pillar glances back to me for a second, then back to him. “I guess it means you’re a genius.”

  “You think?” The Cheshire’s grin is a lame, timid curve on Jack’s haggard and older face. Who would have thought? “Please come play with me, Pillar.”