by Cameron Jace
“I’m not Nancy Drew, you tall red giraffe!”
“I’m a tall red giraffe?” The Dude seemed to lose his temper, as if he were a child too. “Do you have any idea what I did to come here and save your little ass?”
“It’s not little ass. Just ass.”
The Dude threw his hands up and sighed, then turned back. “You’re something. I don’t believe I came here to save you.”
“Who sent you?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just follow me and try to keep your mouth shut.”
“I will not. I crawled in a narrow tunnel full of shit. What did you do?”
“I haven’t done anything yet, but I might have to end up zipping your mouth with a binder. Or better yet, pull out all of your teeth, so you can grow old exponentially and finally shut up.”
They suddenly stood before another dead end wall. The Dude crumpled the map in his hands and grunted.
Constance laughed. “Another dead end. And you say you came here to save me. What was your plan actually?”
“According to the map, there is a door, leading to a secret room in the asylum.”
“So? We find the door and get back in. Brilliant!” She mirrored his grunt, even the way he stood.
“The door leads to the room, but also leads back to another opposite door which opens into the river,” the Dude said. “It’s a short swim and we can escape from where the police never thought was possible. I just need to find the door.”
Chapter 67
The Mush Room
Dragging the March Hare to the Mush Room is sinful. Unforgivable. I’m not sure why my legs allow me to go the distance or why my head allows me the possibility.
“What are you doing, Alice?” Tom appears out of nowhere.
“The March thinks he can remember if exposed to the torture of the shock therapy,” I reply while the March willingly lays himself on the table.
“What a brilliant idea!” Tom mocks us. “We only have an hour and a half left. I’m contemplating whether to push the button or not, and you’re here having fun.”
“Does that look fun to you?” I pull him from his collar and drag him to a corner against the side of the room. “I’m about to shock my best friend.”
“Best friend, huh!” Tom is losing his temper. He too is scared with the ticking clock in the back of our heads. “All mad people are friends, I suppose.”
“You’re a piece of…” I push him back against the wall.
“You shouldn’t be swearing, Alice,” the March, in his child’s persona again, says.
“That’s why I shut up.” I pat him. “Are you comfortable laying here?”
He chuckles. “That’s a neat question. Asking a man if he’s comfortable in his grave.”
I chuckle back in masked pain. It’s hard to understand whether the March is a man or a child sometimes. It seems like the two personas come and go. But aren’t we all both child and adult inside?
“You will need to strap my feet and hands down, Alice,” he says.
“How do you even know that?”
“I’ve been shocked before. Don’t remember when, but someone was trying to get the information out of my head. When I said strap, I really mean chain. But I don’t want to freak myself out.” He stares at the ceiling like someone who’s expecting a needle in the buttocks and looks away.
Chaining him, I see his limbs stiffen. I pat him again, but it has no effect on him. I wonder if I have the courage to sacrifice myself for a bigger cause like him.
“Now you have to put the cap on my head. The one with the six screws,” he says, still looking up.
Tom beats me to it and pulls it out of the wardrobe. “May I?” He makes the March wear it. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
The darker, messed up inner Tom surfaces. I’d once heard that some men apply to the military not to serve their country, but to scratch an itch of wanting to kill and harm others. Sometimes I wonder about people who work in asylums like Tom. Maybe they aren’t here to help, but to scratch an itch. An insane one.
“Four of the six screws on the cap need to be turned,” the March reminds Tom. It’s something I know for a fact since the days when I’d been shocked by Waltraud. More than four screws guarantees the death of the patient. Some patients can only handle three. The screws end with electrical pads that stick to the side of the brain.
“Four screws turned,” Tom says with the enthusiasm of a psycho wearing clown’s make up, two bananas instead of devil’s horns on his head.
I dismiss him and watch the March Hare. It’d be stupid patting him again, knowing it doesn’t make a difference. I’m admiring his solid posture, trying not to vocalize his utter fear.
I stand right next to him, and bend over to whisper in his ear. “We can still not do this.”
“If I died in an hour and a half, I think I’d regret not having tried this,” he says. “I once heard people’s most common regret on their death bed is not trying things.”
I chuckle lightly. Even in his darkest hour, he is trying to make me laugh.
“I, too, don’t want to regret anything,” Tom says. “So let me do the shock therapy.”
“Get out!” I push Tom away. “Go wait for me to tell you if we’re going to have to push the button.”
“But, Alice…”
“If you don’t leave this room right now, I’m going to shock you instead of him.” I show him my Dark Alice face.
Tom swallows hard, so much so that he can’t swallow at all. He leaves the room, his eyes glued to mine. It’s like when you gently leave the room with a lion in it; you have your eyes glued on the predator, making sure you’re safe to go.
“Now back to you, March,” I say. “Like I said, we can still stop this.”
The March reaches for my hands, but his fingers stop midway due to the chains. I reach for him instead. He is in a cold sweat. “I have to do it, Alice.”
“Why? I can’t understand. Even if we dig into your mind, what memory exactly will help us get out of here?”
“One memory.”
“Are you sure? What memory is that?”
“The memory of a patient who lived in this asylum and wrote on those walls. A patient who knew a big secret. Probably the whereabouts of the Six Keys. What the Wonderland War is about. And more.”
“We’re not sure of any of this, March.”
“I’m sure,” he insists. “I’m sure that Patient 14 knows something big and that we need to find him.”
“How can you be so sure?”
The March’s frightened eyes stare back at me. “I have an inescapable feeling inside of me.”
“What feeling?”
Again, he tries to crane his neck closer but the cap with the screws stops him halfway. He whispers, “That I’ve met Patient 14 in The Hole.”
Chapter 68
The BBC Report - Wire Release
The new pope is about to turn the tables of politics upside down!
Angelo Cardone, the new and youngest, pope to date, has an eccentric and unmatched personality. Other than allowing music in his speech and speaking like a ten-year old, Cardone is suggesting new ways to face terrorism.
Unconventional, unacceptable, and borderline insane ways.
The problem is that the crowd likes him — in other words, they ‘dig’ him.
All over the world, fans of Cardone have expressed their support for his ideas. After the Queen’s sudden assassination by the ruthless Pillar, many citizens have sought a clear and blunt revenge on the war on terror. Within minutes of Cardone’s speech at the Vatican, people all over the world have declared their loyalty to him. This is a one of a kind and unprecedented incident. From Zimbabwe to Mexico, followers are gathered on social networks ready to hear more from him. In fact, they’re ready to do what he wants.
Authorities and governments are increasingly worried by what’s happening, but it seems like they have little to contribute at the moment. The Queen’s blood is still fresh and the world governments a
re debating a swift solution. They’ve been in meetings for hours, discussing the situation at the Radcliffe Asylum, and what to do about it.
So far, the verdict is to attack the asylum within an hour and a half, unless the meetings result in a different point of view.
As for Angelo Cardone, he has just declared he has a solution for people to take their lives back. He has proposed the most preposterous and concerning so-called solution ever.
A new religion. One he claims stems from an imaginary Wonderland and has been discreetly followed by some for two hundred years.
Stay tuned for more — until then, you could buy our new Angelo Cardone toy figures for your kids to fight evil. They’re cheaper and better looking than your average Star Wars puppets.
The world has gone mad — End of Wire Release.
Chapter 69
The Tunnels
“Do you even know what you’re doing now?” Constance was fed up with following the Dude everywhere. She wasn’t used to following anyone, except Alice.
“I admit I’m lost, but what else can we do? Time is scant,” the Dude said.
“How about we split up?”
“You’re getting on my nerves, Constance, but I’ve been instructed to save you as well. I can’t risk losing you.”
“Really? So why are you doing this?”
“I said we’ll talk about it later.”
“Then tell me why you call yourself the Dude?”
“Later.”
“Why are you dressed in a red cloak like Reds?”
“Later.”
“Are you one of them?”
“Urgh, later.”
“Who do you mean by us you came to save?”
“Mainly Alice and the March. You came in the equation later. And, of course, as many Mushroomers as I can.”
“And Tom Truckle?”
“I wasn’t instructed to save him.”
“If you wanted to save everyone, why not arrive earlier?”
“I was busy.”
“Busy doing what? Getting dressed for the party? Does it take you a long time to put on that dress and hide your face?” She laughed.
“Make up sucks,” he joked. “All this preparation trying to look good and my date doesn’t appreciate my looks.”
“Your date.”
“That happens to be you.” He detoured into a side tunnel, wondering if it would lead anywhere.
Constance’s eyes widened. “If we’re dating, then I’m the unluckiest girl in the world.”
“In tunnels you mean.” He walked back. Another dead end. “How do you even understand what dating means?”
“Told you. I’m tens of girls in one body.”
“But I thought all the girls Lewis photographed were children?”
“It’s more complicated than you think. I know a lot,” she said, now it was her turn to choose another side tunnel. “I’m surprised how you and I are getting along, though.”
“We’re getting along?” the Dude said.
“Here, follow me. This tunnel looks like it could lead somewhere.”
“As you wish,” the Dude said.
“See? We’re getting along.” She snickered. “But seriously, I’m not good with strangers. Not after the Cheshire kidnapped me by offering cookies to me, once.”
“I heard.”
“You know about that too?”
“It’s more complicated than you think. I know a lot.”
“Nice one.” She smiled.
Then they both stopped. Something showed in the distance. A door? They weren’t sure. They had to investigate. The problem was that a steep fissure cut the though the floor. It led to total darkness.
“We’re going to have to cross over somehow,” the Dude said.
“Can you?” Constance folded her arms.
“I’m not sure.”
“Oh, yeah? I thought this cloak made you something like Superman.”
“Sorry to disappoint you. I guess this relationship isn’t going to work.”
Chapter 70
The Mush Room
Tears trickle down my cheeks as I shock the March. Every time I want to stop, he insists that I have to keep going. Then, when I totally stop, he tells me he remembered something and that I should continue. After a couple of times, I asked him what he remembered, he said he lied to me to get going.
“I can’t do this,” I say.
“You can’t stop now or all this pain you’ve caused me will be in vain,” he says.
I hate this insane logic. I hate this. I feel like I’m torturing a child. And it’s not like I don’t know how it feels. I’ve been mushed long enough to understand. How can I be doing this to someone else?
“Tell me the truth, March?” I demand. “Why are we doing this?”
“I told you, I met Patient 14 in The Hole.”
“Are you sure?”
“It’s a blurry memory, but I believe it’s him.”
“What does he look like? What did he tell you?”
“That’s why I need shock therapy. Do it, Alice.”
I’m hesitant. The world is closing down on us. “Not unless you tell me more. I feel that you know more.”
“I don’t.”
“You’re lying. I hate to tell you this, but in the cell with writing on the wall you had a memory back in Wonderland. What was that all about?”
“Forget it, Alice. Let’s focus on Patient 14.”
“I want to know about your brief Wonderland memory. I want to know about the Hatter.”
“He is just a cool dude who I loved so much.”
“No, you’re lying again. Why were you looking for him?”
“To attend one of his mad tea parties. You don’t need to know anything about him. I’ve never met him in this world. He never left Wonderland.”
“March, I’ve once seen the Hatter in a restaurant where Elton John was playing,” I tell him. “I was talking to Jack and the Pillar came along, too.”
“This can’t be.”
“I’m telling you.”
“Did he tell you he was the Hatter?”
“No, but someone had pointed it out. I’m not remembering clearly.”
“That’s because not everything that’s happening to you is real, Alice,” the March says bluntly, now weakened by the therapy.
“Are you saying I’m really imagining things?” I feel like something is stuck in my throat.
“Some things. Not all. Us, now, it’s all real.”
I move closer to his face, unable to stop crying. What have I done to him by shocking him? “You’re still not telling me the whole truth, March. You’re distracting me with talking about the Hatter. It’s the Pillar you’ve seen in the memory.”
The March doesn’t reply.
“It’s the Pillar, isn’t it?”
Nothing.
“Why are you hiding this from me? You saw the Pillar in Wonderland. You were so afraid of him. You said he killed children. Why are you keeping this part from me?”
“If I tell you will you continue the therapy?” The March stares into my eyes.
“This isn’t the right time to bargain.”
“It is, Alice. The prices and stakes are high. Things are coming to an end and we have to deal with the consequences of knowing the truth.”
“I know the truth. Part of it at least. The part that deals with the Pillar. He killed my family and I tried to avenge them by foolishly joining him and Black Chess. I walked into the beast’s den, thinking I could outsmart him, but he fooled me and outsmarted the heck out of me. And now, after all these years, the beast played the same game with me. He came to me, offered his help, offered to join me, convinced me I could save lives. And I believed him, only he wanted something else. Something I’m assuming is the Keys.”
“I know it’s me who told you about your family being killed, but I was wrong.” The March coughs… blood.
“What?”
“I wasn’t wrong about your family being kil
led. At least, that is what the writing and my memory in the cell proved.”
“Then what were you wrong about?”
“I was wrong about assuming the Pillar is Him.”
Chapter 71
The Vatican
“A new religion is like a new car,” Angelo spoke to the masses. “It’s shiny and comfortable, but most of all it will get you where you wanted to go but never could with your older one.”
None of the crowd understood Angelo. They’d been fascinated by his demeanor and strength to speak out what they’d kept silent in their hearts. But once he began talking about a new religion things got confusing and boring.
“I’m going to give you all something that will strengthen your hearts and minds,” he said. “And most of all, turn you into superheroes. Forget about Ironman and the Hulk. You have a stronger hero inside all of you.”
People continued to listen.
“I will help you release that hero!” Angelo was theatrical as usual, as if acting in a Broadway play about Cesar. “How you may ask? Here is how. With the power of all.”
Some of the crowd tiptoed. He’d begun to strike a nerve.
“One fist is weak and mortal, but many thousands and millions are fists of steel,” Angelo said. “If you unite, we’ll kill the enemy. Who’s the enemy? They call themselves Wonderlanders. They think they’ve been reincarnated in our world. They’re mad. I know I’ve said this before, but I’m trying to reinforce a point.”
The man in black behind Angelo listened keenly, though he, too, was confused.
“By now I’m told that people all over the world are following me,” Angelo said. “By now, I know we’re many and that we’ll fight. We don’t need governments. We don’t need rules. You know why?”
“Why?” a few reluctant people in the crowd asked.
“Because from today on, we’re the government. We are the rules!”
The crowd cheered again. The promises were high but the price hadn’t been told to them yet. They were ready to listen to Angelo.
An old woman told her friend. “I really like Him.”
Chapter 72