Текст книги "Figment"

Автор книги: Cameron Jace

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Chapter 6 3

"Ouch," he says. "That tickled." He grins that awful grin again. "That's why I met you in a dead boy's form, because you can't kill what's already dead. Nice reflexes, though. The bullets inside this weapon are very scarce, so don't shoot me again, please."

"What kind of bullets?"

"Bandersnatch teeth, another Carrollian invention. You know what a Bandersnatch is, right?"

"A monster lurking in the Wonderland forest, according to the books, like mentioned by Carroll in the poem."

"You had three bullets inside. Now two." He furrows his brow. "No other bullet can kill the Muffin Man, unless you're planning to get close to him and fist-fight a big man like him."

"Where is he, so I can stop him?"

"He is in Uxbridge in London, inside the Cadbury factory, stirring some hot chocolate and pouring pepper into it."

"Wait a minute. Something isn't right." Uxbridge shouldn't be far from here. I just don't understand why the Cheshire wants me to kill the monster he created himself. "Why are you doing all of this? You're tricking me."

"It's simple, really." He pulls out the Bandersnatch tooth and hurls it away. "I planned this mess from the beginning only to send you a message. By you, I mean the Pillar, Fabiola, and the whole world."

"Which is?"

"I showed you an example of a man crushed so hard by society he flipped back with anger against it." He is proud of it. "It's a textbook on how to create a terrorist or criminal. Crush him with society's cruelness, take his poor soul to a madman like me, and infest his brain with revengeful thoughts so powerful that he only sees humans as bridges to his cause. Then you've got yourself a first-class nuthead killing for reasons that make no sense."

I stare at him speechlessly.

"What?"

"I just haven't seen anyone sicker than you," I admit. "What are you? What drives your hate to humanity so much?"

"Humans, of course." He spreads his hands wide. "They made me what I am. The same way I made the Muffin Man. I am a reflex to human cruelty and madness; only you weren't prepared for such a powerful reflex like me. And guess what? I am just showing the Pillar and Fabiola how weak human souls are, how I can use most of them against them in the coming Wonderland War. You know how many mistreated men and women walk the streets every that I could take advantage of?"

"Somehow, I don't think this enough reason to want me to kill the Muffin Man," I argue.

"I want to see if you can do it." He steps forward, his dead eyes gleaming with life. "I'm still am curious about you." He throws the yo-yo away. "Either you won’t be able to do it and go permanently insane so I'll stop thinking about you, or you'll kill him, and prove you're the one and only Alice that Lewis trusted so much."

"Then what happens?"

"If you are her?" he asks. "Oh, baby. That's a new ballgame on its own."

I am not sure I want to risk being pushed to further madness. I'd risk waking up crippled in my cell again.

"But I don't think you could shoot the Muffin Man," the Cheshire dares. "You're too weakened by what you've seen in Wonderland. Deep inside, you think he had been a good man mistreated by the grumpy Queen of Hearts, who killed his children."

"We're not sure about that," I object. "Lewis went to save them. He might have—"

"No, he didn't." He grins. "Doesn't it show already? If Lewis had saved Gorgon's kids, he wouldn't be still doing this now. What? You thought you could change the past? The Pillar used you as an experiment to see if the Einstein Blackboard works. Gorgon Ramstein's kids were found dead, their hands scraping at the locked door of their mushroom house, trying to reach for a handle that wasn't going to budge anyway."

I am holding on to the umbrella as strongly as I can. If that really happened, I can't picture it in my mind. Is the Muffin Man supposed to pay for the cruelty of the world, or is he supposed to be killed to save those who, some of them, had been cruel to him?

"I can't believe such a thing happened to the Muffin Man." My jaw aches when I speak. I'm fighting both vomit and tears. But like the Pillar said, I can't keep on whining about the insane world. I have to be stronger, although I don't know the recipe for that. "What happened to Lewis when he saw them?" I am angered I have to get my information from the Cheshire, but I can't imagine how Lewis reacted to this. I know how much he loves children.

"Well for one, he st-t-tuttered f-for a-a while." The Cheshire mocks Lewis's shortcomings with a meaty smile from his fatty lips. I barely keep myself from shooting him again. "But then, after he gathered himself, the mathematician priest had an epiphany of a lifetime."

"What do you mean?"

"Lewis Carroll finally knew what could save the poor children of Victorian times," the Cheshire says, mockery underlining every word. "He decided if children could not get clothes, friends, and goods in real life, he was going to give it to them lavishly in a book. A book full of oversized mushrooms, cakes that make you taller, marshmallows, tarts, and more. All free, but only in the figments of imagination of the poor children."

"You mean..."

"I mean the Muffin Man's story is actually the inception of the Alice Underground books. He actually believed that if Gorgon's kids had such a book they might have not starved so quickly. A 'food for the soul' thing, if you know what I mean." He rolls his eyes, obviously envious of everything Lewis did.

"My God."

"Yes? How can I help you?" The Cheshire tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. "Just kidding. Come on, let's see if you can pull the trigger, so-called Alice." The Cheshire shows me his latest grin. He disappears, evacuating boy's head and torso so they fall down to the ground.

Chapter 6 4

Cadbury factory, Uxbridge, London

The Pillar takes care of getting me into the factory. It isn't that hard, now that it's abandoned. Who wants to make chocolate for a world withering away half an hour from now?

In the elevator to the factory's manufacturing floor, the Pillar pushes the stop button.

"You can do it," he says.

"I know I have to," I reply with my umbrella in my hand. "But I am afraid to hesitate, knowing what I know about what happened to the Muffin Man's children."

"If we consider every Bin Laden-like terrorist's miserable childhood and make excuses for him, the world will end up perished in a few days," he says. "Everyone is responsible for themselves. You can't blame the world for what happened to you." He stops for a breath and asks me, "Now, do you want to know who Jack really is before you do this?"

"I am not sure."

"It's all up to you. I am only reminding you in case you don't come back alive," he says. "Who knows what might happen up there?"

"I think I know who Jack is." I finally falter under the pressure. Why should I deny it? I woke up crippled in a world that seemed to be the real world, while all of this, although it feels real, simply can't be real, because it doesn't make any sense. "Jack is just a figment of my imagination."

"Go on..."

"I made him up to compensate for his absence after I killed him in the school bus for reasons I can't remember..."

"And?"

"He just pops up whenever I am in great danger because it feels better thinking he came to save me." I am crying already. "I made him up so I don't feel guilty about him. Sometimes I think people see him, but I could have made that up as well."

"Is that all?"

I crane my head up at the Pillar. "I am ready to admit that, but I want him to stay near. Please, don't make him disappear," I say to the Pillar, throwing myself in his arms. It has been so long since I needed to let these words out.

"I can't make him disappear, Alice." The Pillar doesn't put his arms around me. He just lets me do whatever I want, but doesn't show his sympathy.

I pull back and ask what he means.

"All you've said is wrong," the Pillar says.

"Does that mean Jack is real?" I wipe my tears with the back of my hand.

"Not really."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Are you ready for the truth?"

I nod eagerly.

"Jack isn't a figment of your imagination, Alice," the Pillar answers. "He is a figment of his own imagination."

"What?" I can't even comprehend the sentence he just said. "A figment of his own imagination?"

"When people die in this world, sometimes they aren't ready to cross over to the other side," he explains. "Usually it's someone they have left behind that keeps them attached to the living world. It's not something that happens often. Maybe one in a million." I'm beginning to see where this is going. "There is no doubt you killed Adam—I mean Jack. He just wasn't ready to leave you alone in this world. He believes there is something you haven't learned yet, and he can't leave without helping you with it. Don't ask me what it is, because I don't know."

"You mean he is a dead man walking in my life?"

"He doesn't know that. If you ask him where he slept last night, he usually can't answer it, right?" the Pillar asks. "He is in a haze himself, driven by only one force in this temporary figment of existence."

"One force?"

"His love for you."

My tears burst out again.

"He will appear when your heart needs him the most. He will be seen by others and he will be effective," he says. "If he kills someone, they will die. He is rather true when he is present. Think of him as a living soul borrowed from the other side."

"This so confusing." I hiccup. "But it means he will always be there for me."

"Like a guardian angel." The Pillar chews on the words. "I pretended I didn't see him because of the emotional pressure he will put on you. The world is in danger, Alice, and emotions make us weaker. You can't be like that. You have to learn the art of bluntness in order to face the enemy."

I pull the umbrella up and wipe my tears. "You have it all wrong, Pillar," I tell him. "I don't know what you know about love, or what happened to you in the past that made you so blunt and without feelings, but love strengthens, not weakens. Why didn't you just tell me he was a figment of his own imagination long ago?"

The Pillar stays silent. I sense there is more he isn't telling me.

"If there is anything else I should know, please tell me now."

"There isn't," he says. I believe he is lying. "Do me a favor and don't call for Jack with your heart when you confront the Muffin Man. I want you to know your powers and what you are capable of doing. Jack and I can't be there for you forever."

"How can I do this?"

"Just don't think about Jack up there when you meet up with the enemy," the Pillar says. "Be yourself. Everyone else is taken."

"I will." I like the idea. I can't keep using Jack or the Pillar's help to get me out of every problem. "But still, you have no idea what it's like to be in love." I push the elevator button up, ready for a kill.

The Pillar seems slightly insulted by my words. For the first time, I realize that this ruthless killer was definitely in love one day. The kind of love that maybe left him the way he is now.

Chapter 6 5

Cadbury factory, chocolate stirring floor

I ask the Pillar to leave me alone with the Muffin Man.

"If you say so," he mumbles as the elevator door closes. "I would have liked to see a chocolate factory just like in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory," he teases.

The sound of working machines and drills surrounds me as I walk in between. The factory is huge; I am worried it will take me too long to find the Muffin Man.

Surprisingly, it's easier than I thought. Gorgon Ramstein is humming his own nursery rhyme as he is working.

"Muffin Man, Muffin Man. Do you know the Muffin Man, who lives in Drury Lane?"

I take off my shoes so I can surprise him and he can't hear me coming, my umbrella held up high like a loaded gun.

"Muffin Man, Muffin Man. Do you know the Muffin Man, who somehow lost his brain?"

A few rows of stacked-up material later, I see him standing behind a huge, round machine. It looks like a bathtub, with chocolate stirring inside. It has huge mixing fans that are so long and sharp they could cut through a person. The Muffin Man has tons of pepper sacks next to him. He begins opening one to pour the pepper into the mix.

"Muffin Man, Muffin Man. Do you know the Muffin Man, who's gone utterly insane?"

"Stop!" I stand firm and point my umbrella at him. It's surprising how I got a straight window for a shot so easily. It occurs to me that I must have been taught to use this umbrella before—or was my clash with the Cheshire in Ypres just about enough? "Or I will shoot!" I say.

"How did you know I was here?" He is utterly surprised, one of the sacks open in his hands.

"That doesn't matter." I manage to control my voice. I have to be loud enough so he knows I will shoot. "I need you to put that sack down, sir." I don't know how it works, but the Cheshire said if Gorgon is stopped, his acquaintances will stop.

"How did you find me?" He is perplexed. "You should be out there with all the panicked people, trying to find the poisoned food or stay away from it."

"Please, sir," I repeat. "Put down the sack of pepper."

The sound of stirring machines demands I raise my voice even more.

"The only one who knows I'm here is the Cheshire." His jaw tenses. "Did he tell you I was here? Why would he do that?"

"Because he is the Cheshire. You shouldn't have trusted him." I'm trying to use this conflict. "I promise you won't be hurt if you stop, sir. We will consider you an ally who helped prevent millions from dying." I am lying. I talk as if I am the police or something. Anything to stop this from happening. "I promise I will tell you anything you want to know once you put the sack down." I readjust the position of my feet. Holding a gun up for a long time turns out to be a hell of a task.

"I will not put the sack down," he says. "I don't care if you caught the Cheshire and made him confess. The world has to pay, or the Queen of England apologies publicly."

I want so badly to ask him if this means the Queen of England is the Queen of Hearts, but I won't. I have to strike with iron hands. The killer has to be stopped or killed.

"Sir, for the last time." I can't quite breathe steadily. "Put the sack down, or I will shoot."

"Shoot as you want," he says. "Bullets can't kill me."

"I have Bandersnatch bullets, sir." Why do I keep saying "sir"?

The Muffin Man suddenly panics. He realizes the power in my hands.

"Then it's really the Cheshire? Did he sell me out?"

"For the last time, sir." I grit my teeth. "I mean it. The last time. Put the sack down, or I will shoot."

"You know what she has done to my children in Wonderland?" His sadness begins to surface. It's sincere, I can tell. "Can you imagine your children scraping the doors and windows for three days without food?" This isn't helping me. The image haunts me. "Do you know how many times I asked the Queen of Hearts to kill me and just send someone to open the door for them? I mean, they were just children." An image of Lewis crying I couldn't save them blocks my vision and my reason. I don't want to soften from the Muffin Man's words. I am not sure I can hold on any longer. "Then in this new world, I told myself I would start all over again. I told myself the cruelty of Wonderland couldn't be in the human world. But once I warned the government of my scientific discoveries about the crimes committed by food companies, they killed my lawyer and killed my children. AGAIN!" he screams. His veins are about to spurt out of his neck.

His screams are absorbed by the stirring machines of the factory. Another injustice done to him. Every part of me translates his words to "Pain."

A tear trickles down my cheek. I don't think I can take the shot. "I understand your hardships, sir." My voice is fragile. The voice of a liar. How in the world can I understand such cruelty? "Once you put the sack down, we can talk about it."

"No we won't." He cuts the sack open, some of it already pouring in. "You look like a good girl. You don't know much about the world. And you don't have the guts to—"

I take a spontaneous step back. I don't know why. Then I close my eyes and shoot him. I can't let him play with my emotions.

The shot echoes briefly before it's sucked by the noisy machinery again. It's followed by Gorgon's mocking laugh. I open my eyes, and he is already pouring the pepper. His laugh of evil, as hollow as his voice, resonates and reminds me of my failure to stop him. The Pillar is right. Gorgon has been mistreated, but it doesn't give him the right to kill children and people. I'm beginning to adjust to some kind of moral compass I can follow. Saving lives always comes first.

A hand pulls the umbrella from me and pushes me away.

It's the Pillar. He has come back, and he will take the shot.

Seeing him do it, I feel like burning from inside out. I am not a failure. If I am meant to save the world, then I will freakin' save it. I pace ahead, pull my umbrella back from the Pillar, and watch the astonishment in his eyes. I push him out of my way and aim at the Muffin Man, who has emptied one sack inside already and has pulled his falling hair back so I can see his empty eye socket. He sneers at me, knowing I can't shoot him.

"Take the shot, Alice!" the Pillar shouts behind me.

The Muffin Man reaches for another sack and opens it, staring blatantly at me. I have one last Bandersnatch tooth left.

Afraid I will miss the shot, I run toward the Muffin Man, aiming at him. Closer is better.

On my way, he has emptied another sack. Damn it. He is reaching for a third.

I am running so fast I wonder if I'll end up flying. I circle around the huge stirring tub. Its sharp fans are glinting and scarily sharp. I am afraid I'll trip and fall inside.

"You can't kill me!" he yells, inches away from me.

I don't hesitate. I aim at his heart. It's the heart that kills, right?

The Bandersnatch tooth hits him in the heart, but sticks in his double-breasted jacket as if it's made out of steel. The one-eyed Muffin Man grins at me and pours the third sack.

I go crazy, filled with such anger I think I am going to explode. Without thinking, I run toward him, pull one of the sacks, and hit him with it on his back. It seems impossible that I could hurt such a big guy.

The look on the Muffin Man's face is priceless. He didn't expect it, bending over on the edge of the stirring tub, gripping at the edge with his hands. Still, it's not enough to hurt him.

I hit him again.

He bends closer with his head, staring right at the stirring fans. His tall body helps him to hold on. I prepare to hit him once more, but he steadies and pulls the sack from me. The look in his one eye says he is going to push me into the tub.

The Pillar interferes and whips Gorgon with his hookah hose, as if he were Indiana Jones. The hose is like a snake, tightening around his neck on its own. Gorgon chokes, and the Pillar pulls. But the Muffin Man is stronger. I run around and add my strength to the Pillar's.

"Don't pull," the Pillar complains. "Kick him into the stirring machine!"

Provoked, Gorgon somehow twists his arms and manages to start choking the Pillar with his one huge hand. The two of them end up almost tangled together.

“The Queen should’ve made you sneeze harder,” the Pillar slurps with a squeaky voice, his neck reddening under the pressure of Gorgon’s hand. “So your other eyes would have popped out too!” His face is about to explode like a pumped balloon. He still has his grip tightened on the hose.

I turn back and keep kicking as the Pillar pulls, but it's all in vain. I kneel down to grab another sack, but stop when I glimpse Gorgon's glinting kitchen knife.

I pick it up. It's so heavy. And I keep staring at it.

"Nice-looking knife, eh?" The Pillar can barely talk as Gorgon still chokes him. "Stab him!"

I don't know how I feel about stabbing him. The gun is easier. You pull the trigger from afar, feeling almost no responsibility for the deceased's pain—no wonder most of the killing in the world happens that way. A knife seems too personal. Too close. There is no escaping the responsibility.

"Better stab him, or just stab me!" the Pillar says. "Because if I can't hold any longer, he will surely chop me and serve me as a caterpillar soup."

I raise my hands and stab the Muffin Man in the back. He arches and stares at me with utter disbelief. The look in his eyes scares me. I stab him again, his blood on my hands.

Then again, and again.

Doing this reminds me of Edith telling the girl I came back from Wonderland with a kitchen knife in my hand. What the heck happened to me in Wonderland?

The Pillar takes advantage of Gorgon's brief weakness and pulls him closer to the edge. I catch on and put my final signature and kick the Muffin Man into it. He falls, bending over the edge of the stirring tub. The Pillar seizes the opportunity and kicks him in too a couple of times.

Finally, the Muffin Man falls down. The slicing blades of the stirring machine finish him off.

I shy away from the spattering blood all over the chocolate, a bit dazed. Killing someone, even if it's for the good of millions, shatters something inside you.

"Huh." The Pillar mops his forehead. "That was some stubborn beast."

"I could have just kicked him myself," I tell him.

"I know, brave girl, although it took you like forever to stab him. I just couldn't resist a kick in the butt. It's such a relief. We should do this more often." He adjusts his tie.

"Glad that you know I could have done this without you." I throw the knife away.

"Are we fighting over credits now?" He pulls his hookah back. "You know no one will know you saved the world tomorrow, right?"

"I know." I clap my hands clean of the pepper. "I'm an insane girl in an asylum. The world isn't supposed to know about me."

"Think of yourself as Superman," the Pillar suggests. "All the world's greatest heroes stay anonymous."

"You've got a point." I let my shoulders fall under the weight of exhaustion and follow the Pillar to the elevator. "I'm starving. Do I get to eat a nice meal, maybe?"

"Full of delicious carbs, saturated fats, and unhealthy sweets?" He looks irritated.

"Yes?" I tilt my head.

"Marshmallows, greasy pizza, and lots of ketchup?"

"Yes?"

"Ice cream, fudge, marmalade, and lots of cream?"

"Yes?"

"But of course." He rolls his cane with all the mirth in world. "As long as you promise to lick your finger and make a mess while you eat."

"I promise I will make a mess, just like we did before at the Westminster Palace."

"That's my girl," he chirps. "I know a boy who's been dying to get you to eat with him at Fat Duck, the best restaurant known for mock turtle soup in the world." He pushes the elevator button.

"Jack?" The smile on my face is so wide it hurts.

He nods. "But first, I need you to go to court with me," he says. "It's just a small favor."

"Court?" I am suspicious.

"It'll be fun, I promise." He snickers as the elevator door opens.

Inside, I glimpse the stirring tub for one last time. "Aren't we supposed to warn the health administration of the few sacks that fell in?"

"You forgot about the man who fell in too." He presses the button to the ground floor. "But hell no. A few body fats and blood of a dead guy in a few chocolates won't hurt. We eat gross stuff all day and no one complains."

The elevator door closes. The Pillar tries to hold a sneeze.

"Pardon me," he says. "Achoo!"

I stare at him, terrified again.

"Gotcha!" He points at me and smiles.

"I wasn't afraid." I shake my shoulders.

"Oh, you were." He nudges me as I stare at the elevator's numbers.

"Not at all," I insist. "I was wondering if it was 'achoo' or 'atishoo.'"

I bite my lips. He buries a smile.