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

by Cameron Jace

But I can’t find her. How am I supposed to find her in this black abyss?

  The bullets are still slicing through, but I’m not even paying attention. I could get shot any moment now, but it’s Constance who I’m here for.

  Suddenly something bumps into me. It freaks me out at first. A large fish? A police officer who’s swum down to get me?

  I turn around and realize it’s none of those. It’s Constance. Not breathing. Just floating on her back with her hands sprawled sideways.

  No, Constance. You can’t die.

  What kind of terrible day is this?

  I slap her on the face, but the slaps are a joke of flappy arms and bubbles of me trying to scream. I hold her tight and cry, but I’m unable to cry in the water.

  Terrible.

  When I come to my senses, I realize I have to pull her up.

  I do, paddling as fast as I can with the faint air left in my lungs. If I die today, at least I have to bring her to surface.

  My chest feels like it’s dropping to my feet. The muscles on my neck are tense. My back seems to want to pull me down. Everything’s against me, but I’m not giving up, though I’m not sure I can make it.

  Another rush of bullets misses us as I’m swimming up.

  This is when I realize that Constance has probably been shot. That whatever I do, it might be too late.

  92

  White Hearts Hospital

  Watching Lewis fight like a mighty warrior changed something in Fabiola’s physiology. She suddenly began to feel her wounds heal. That talent from the days in Wonderland seemed to return. But even so, she wasn’t sure how long it’d take.

  “Lewis!” she shouted. “Are you all right?”

  “He is!” the rabbit shouted back from the stairs below. “There are just too many Reds to kill.”

  “You can’t do it all alone.”

  “We’ll manage,” the rabbit said. “Just get well soon.”

  “I’m starting to heal, but it will take some time.”

  “We’ll kill those Reds and come pick you up,” that was Lewis now. “You should see how much of a None Fu warrior I’ve become.”

  Fabiola hadn’t heard Lewis as excited as this for many years. That tinge of childishness in a grown man’s body had disappeared for so long. He sounded like a young reader of a fantasy novel by Tolkien, enjoying it so much, thinking he was really fighting in the books.

  She took a deep breath, watching her body heal. But as she did, she turned on the TV. News covered the events in the Vatican and the asylum. God, how she’d regret being late and stubborn and hesitant if something happened to the Inklings.

  Who was she fooling? She was too late. The police had announced they had control of the asylum, and that everyone inside had been killed.

  Fabiola suddenly felt sick. She felt evil. A coward. She should have taken drastic measures much earlier. She didn’t have to wait for Lewis to come and convince her to heal or change her mind.

  She was too late.

  And if she was to blame anyone, it would be the Pillar, the man who’d hurt her so much she hated herself and the life all around her.

  93

  Outside the asylum

  “What do you mean the asylum is empty?” The Interpol officer gritted his teeth, trying to avoid the cameras and lowering his voice. He pulled the other officer with the news to a side, so they could talk in private.

  “That’s what our men told me,” the younger officer told his boss. “The asylum is empty. They disappeared like magic.”

  “That’s impossible,” the major hissed with veins popping out of his neck. “They’re not Houdini. It’s just impossible. What do you want me to tell the public now?”

  “We’ve already told them we’ve caught everyone inside and killed most of the terrorists. We had to. Just to cool things down.”

  “It won’t be the first time we lie to the public about our achievements, but that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m going crazy here. How did they vanish?”

  “Wait.” the younger officer received a dispatch. He listened carefully then turned back to his superior. “I’ve been told there are couple of rooms that are sealed. It’s possible that they’re crammed in there.”

  “Crammed in one room? What kind of room is that?”

  “One of them is what is labeled ‘Control Room.’ It seems high tech and has a steel door. They’re trying to break in now.”

  “Is that all?”

  “A few of our officers by the river on the southern side are reporting strange movements in the dark. They’re shooting at them, but can’t see who they are. They’ve just asked for the proper lights and equipment to investigate.”

  The major held his boiling head with both hands. “This is insane. Just find out what’s going on. RIGHT NOW!”

  94

  The River

  I reach the surface and hand Constance’s body to someone. I have no idea who. It’s one of the Mushroomers for all I know. In the distance behind me, I can hear the guns shooting at the water. It’s hard to ask what’s happening now, as I need to gulp a few breaths to stable the oxygen in my brain.

  “What’s going on?” I finally ask.

  “Part of the police force reported strange activities in the water. They can’t see the boats yet,” Tom says. “I think it’s because they could not imagine we escaped through a door that led to the river. But they’re shooting at the water near the asylum.”

  “Soon they’ll expose us,” I say, pulling myself up. A Mushroomer is already helping Constance, giving her CPR.

  I kneel down and check her body from head to toe as he does.

  “What are you looking for?” Tom asks.

  “Bullets. I think she’s been shot.”

  But then Constance coughs. It’s a painful cough, full of spurts and water. She even coughs out a small fish. My heart flutters with happiness.

  I reach for her head, as I feel no one else has the right to hold her in their arms but me right now.

  “I thought I’d lost you,” I say.

  She only coughs, says nothing back. The darkness and the bullets shooting in the distance should alert me, but I’m all safe here with her in my arms.

  “You’ll be all right.” I do my best to hold my tears back. “I promise you that you will be all right.”

  “I think we should row away,” Tom says. “Before the police discover us.”

  “The movement will alert them,” I say.

  “You saved me?” Constance says with half her strength.

  I rub her wet hair and nod. “I did. I dove down there to get you. What happened to you?”

  “I bumped into something and lost consciousness I guess.” She seems emotional about it.

  I hug her tighter and kiss her forehead. “It’s okay. You’re all right now.”

  “I’m not all right,” she says feebly — but stubbornly.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Because it was me who’s supposed to save you.” She drums a feeble hand against my chest. “I’m supposed to save you.”

  And suddenly, I see it. I see how we all can be hard on ourselves. Even though we do our best, and sometimes perform miracles, we’re just dramatic creatures. We seek perfection. Stupid perfection that has no meaning whatsoever. The same way I’ve been taunting myself for not doing the best job, Constance has been persuaded she should do a perfect job. Just like superheroes in a movie.

  But that’s not real life.

  We do what we have to do, and the results will always stand short. It’s not so much the results that make it up. It’s that we tried. It’s that we cared.

  I mean, the little stubborn girl literally walked through shit to save us, and did show us a way out of the asylum, but still thinks she didn’t do her best. I think we need to ease up on children. They’re handling too much pressure these days.

  I hold her tighter and look in her eyes. “Constance, do you see all those Mushroomers in the boats?”

  She lifts her head a
nd nods, tears in her eyes.

  “All of them are alive because of you,” I tell her. “I’m alive because of you.”

  She nods.

  “All of us will go back to our families and hug them and play with them and spend a good time with them, because of you,” I continue. “Families will be bonded and kids will be raised by their fathers and mothers because of you.”

  Her starry eyes look at me for a while, then she says, “But your family died, Alice. You don’t have a family.”

  “Oh, you stubborn foolish cute girl,” I tell her. “I do have a family. And they’re alive.”

  “You do?” Her eyes widen.

  “Yes, you.”

  95

  Control Room, The Radcliffe Asylum

  The Dude had just closed the door behind him and stared at the Pillar. They both knew the police wouldn’t get them as long the door remained locked, but they weren’t sure about how long it’d stand strong against the pounding outside.

  “They will try to bomb it sooner or later,” the Pillar said, rocking on the chair and smoking his pipe.

  “So what are you waiting for?” the Dude said. “I thought you’d stand up and burn them with you and the asylum.”

  “That’d be heroic, yeah?” the Pillar winks. “Actually, I can’t stand up until you leave. I don’t want you to die with me.”

  “I had to come back.”

  “I knew you would.”

  “I have a question.”

  “I know you have.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “All of this? You’re confusing everyone. You’re not a good man. You know that.”

  “Good and bad are hamburgers and donuts. It’s hard to tell which is worse for your health.”

  “Stop the insane analogies and games,” the Dude demanded. “Answer me.”

  “Ask me.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “And by ‘this’ you mean?”

  “Saving Alice wherever she goes. Of course, you do it in the weirdest ways, but you keep on planning behind her back to save her.”

  “It’s a hobby of mine. I like to save people. Besides, you’re as guilty as me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why do you do it?”

  “Do what?” The Dude tensed.

  “Save Alice. You, too, do it in the weirdest ways.”

  “That’s because you told me to do it this way.”

  “It was the only way possible.”

  The Dude said nothing. He knew the Pillar was right.

  “We had a deal,” the Pillar said. “A plan we put together.”

  “We did.”

  “It was risky, but necessary.” The Pillar dragged from his pipe, as if he were Freud and the Dude was his patient. “It worked, don’t you think?”

  “It worked very well.” The Dude chuckled a little, his face still veiled in black. “But you never told me you’d blow up the Queen’s head.”

  “I never planned to.”

  “Then why do it?”

  “I just couldn’t resist. I mean me with the gun and this obnoxious stocky thing standing before me. Chances like these happen once in a lifetime.”

  “Killing her complicated things.”

  “Life is always complicated,” the Pillar said. “Except when you consciously decide it isn’t.”

  “I wish I’d written down most of your quotes,” the Dude says. “But I guess there is no time.”

  “Yes, there is no time. You have to leave. I have to burn someone.”

  “It’s true,” the Dude said. “But before I leave, tell me what’s coming.”

  “Meaning?”

  “This war that’s starting, what’s it about?”

  “The most precious thing.”

  “You keep saying that,” the Dude said. “It’s vague.”

  “It won’t be when Alice reads my Wonder note, which should be the first thing you do when you escape with her.”

  “Just the note? One word? Can it explain everything?”

  “It’s my Wonder. It’s the only thing I did right in my life. So yes, it explains everything.”

  The Dude tapped his foot on the floor. “Okay, so where is my costume?”

  “You don’t need a costume,” the Pillar said. “Just take off that Reds’ cloak and walk out to the police. They will trust your face. They think you’re one of them. I believe you know what to do next.”

  “I know,” the Dude said, and took off his costume.

  96

  The River

  In the middle of the war, there is love. In the depth of the dark, there is light. The moment Constance and I hug as family members is short, but in my heart it will last forever.

  It’s not only an incredibly rewarding moment, but it’s one that proves that good things come in great amounts. Behind me, a Mushroomer says “Alice, you have to see the March.”

  “What about him?”

  “He just spat out something.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “We’re not sure what’s going on, but the March is alive.”

  Constance and I jump to our feet and follow the Mushroomer’s gaze. He is looking at the boat next to us with the March’s silhouette propped up on his elbows.

  I jump into the water, and Constance follows me. We climb up into the next boat, hoping it’s true, that we’re not imagining this.

  “March!” Constance beats me to him and takes him in her arms.

  I kneel before him, blinking, still not sure what’s going on. But it’s him. He is exhausted like hell, but he is alive.

  “How is that possible?”

  “Magic.” He raises an eyebrow.

  “What kind of magic?” I ask.

  “I’m not sure, Alice, but all this time you’ve been holding me, I was alive.”

  “No way.”

  “I just couldn’t move or speak. I think I was in some kind of a coma.”

  “That’s because of how hard she mushed your head,” Constance teases me. “But I’m glad you’re alive.”

  “I’m sorry, March,” I apologize dearly, still unable to understand.

  “You don’t have to apologize, Alice,” the March says. “The shock therapy worked. I know all you need to know. It’s just that this thing had been stuck in my throat and once I spat it out, I could finally breathe again.”

  “What thing?”

  The March lifts his hand and shows it to me. I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry or consider this utter nonsense.

  “This was it? This what was stuck in you and you could not breathe or talk?” I giggle.

  “And now that it’s out, I remember very important things.”

  Gently I pick it up and stare at it. It’s a light bulb.

  “You’re kidding me,” Tom says from behind my back. “You actually had a light bulb in your head? And you spat it out your mouth?”

  “The one that Black Chess had installed a long time ago.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “What isn’t these days?” I roll my eyes.

  “And you spat it out in one piece?” Tom says. “I mean, no shattered glass or anything?”

  “It’s a strong light bulb. A spying one. Made by Black Chess,” the March says, though his argument is utter nonsense as well.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” I tell him. “It means a lot to me. I thought I killed you.”

  “But you’re not asking the right question, Alice,” the March says.

  “What right question?”

  “Do you remember Patient 14’s puzzle?”

  “Yes, what about it?”

  The March recites it to me:

  I’ve hidden the Keys in plain sight.

  A place so bright in the dark of the night.

  Are you the one to get it right?

  I’ve hidden the Keys in a … of light.

  Constance jumps with mirth. “I got it!”

 
So did I. The missing word was ‘bulb.’

  “Patient 14, who knows of the Six Keys’ location, hid them in a bulb of light.”

  “A light bulb?” Tom scratches his temples.

  “It means Patient 14 hid it all in the March’s head,” Constance explains. “That explains why Black Chess planted a light bulb in his head. Somehow, the March has all the truth installed in his head but can’t remember it.”

  “Or it could be Patient 14 installed the bulb to hide the information beneath. Like he said in the puzzle I’ve hidden the keys in plain sight,” I offer my suggestion.

  “So I assume Patient 14 hid it in your head when you both met in the Hole?” Constance asks the March.

  The bullets in the distance are getting louder now. It seems like we need to move, but I can’t stop listening to the March. Because his last words change everything.

  “That’s partially true,” the March tells Constance. His eyes find mine and he says, “I told you that I remember a few things now, right? Not all, but important things.”

  “You did,” I tell him. “What else do you remember, March? Do you know where the Six Keys are?”

  “Unfortunately, no,” he says. “But I know who Patient 14 is.”

  All of us sink into silence. There is no point in asking question. We just want to hear him say it.

  “I am Patient 14, Alice,” the March says. “Lewis told me about the Keys. He trusted me. And me only!” He definitely says it like a proud child, but then his face droops. “But the secret was too hard to hold. I couldn’t resist telling anyone, so kept it in my brain, jotted the writing on the walls before they transferred me from the Radcliffe Asylum to the Hole, and took that terrible Lullaby pill to forget about it.”

  “That’s why the puzzle on the wall said only one person could understand it,” I say. “Like a child, you’ve played a risky game, and wrote a message to yourself.”

  “It was fun, Alice. It was so much fun.”

  And the fun continues with bullets now hitting the boats.