Текст книги "Circus "

Автор книги: Cameron Jace

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Chapter 38

The Garden of Cosmic Speculation, Dumfries, Scotland

Time remaining: 13 hours, 06 minutes

While Inspector Dormouse’s men spread through the garden, I take my own route, curious about a few tiger lilies over a hedge. I follow them up and down the hills, as they flare their orange hue onto the place.

But they don’t lead me anywhere specific.

Then there are a few other flowers with petals that look like mouths. They remind me of the roses in Lewis Carroll’s book, talking to Alice and making fun of her.

I still can see the police flashing their lights in the distance. Deep inside, I don’t want to totally lose them. I glimpse the Pillar too. He is sitting over a hill with a bag of carrots.

Still walking, I wish I could glimpse a memory hidden deep in my brain—maybe between the right and left part, like Professor Jittery said. I realize I really like this man.

If parts of this garden are from the real Wonderland then I should remember something, or so I like to believe.

But nothing comes to me. I am just a stranger in a garden I have never been too before. I am a stranger, even to myself.

There are a few thick trees that block the view. A few hedges and turns where someone could easily hide. I begin to hear birds humming all around me. That’s when I realize I am too far from the rest.

Looking back, I can’t see any of them.

The wind swirls around as the sky above dims. Is it going to rain?

Be brave, Alice. You have a job to do.

But how am I supposed to spot the rabbit in here?

It dawns on me how foolish I am, looking for a rabbit in such a huge place. Really?

Then I hear something hopping next to me.

When I turn to look, the sound disappears.

Then it returns. This time I’m sure it’s an animal. I hear it nibbling on something.

Feverishly, I follow the sound, detouring from one tree to another.

Hot. Cold. Then hot again.

Where is it?

I realize I better stay put, so I can locate the sound’s source.

When I do, I realize the animal is right next to me, only hiding behind a tree branch.

It’s a white rabbit with black, beautiful, and curious eyes. It’s nibbling on a carrot, which isn’t good, since the Hatter told the children that carrots would expedite the bomb’s explosion. I pad toward it, ever so slowly, from behind.

How am I supposed to catch a rabbit if it runs away?

Slowly, I turn back, wishing a police officer were looking my way. They brought those huge nets along. I could use one of them to catch it.

But none of them are nearby.

And it’s not a good idea to summon them. My voice will scare the rabbit away.

Slowly, I take my shoes off and pad closer, only to scare myself when I hear the rabbit ticking. It is the rabbit we’re looking for.

Stupidly, a notion urges me to stretch out my hands and try to catch it.

The rabbit’s eyes almost pop upon seeing me. It abandons the carrot and flees.

I run like a maniac after it, memories of the Alice in Wonderland book flashing before my eyes. I find it odd that I am chasing a rabbit at the age of nineteen. But I run.

Run, Alice, run!

The rabbit hops in panic. I chase it like a mad girl, my back bent forward, hands stretched out.

“I found it!” I yell, but it seems like no one’s hearing me.

Hedge after hedge, one tree trunk after another, I chase what I came for. A rabbit with a bomb.

I fall to my knees, not knowing what I’ve hit.

I stand up again and look for the rabbit.

Dammit. Where is it?

There it is! Sly and cute little white and curvy thing. With all its innocence, it doesn’t have any idea how explosive it is at the moment.

I follow it, but it’s still faster.

“I found it, people!”

Finally, someone replies, asking where I am. How am I supposed to know where exactly I am in this endless garden? Can’t they tell from my voice?

I must be deeper into the garden. Deeper into Wonderland.

I manage to sprint faster, bigger strides. I am about to catch the rabbit, I think. Here it is. Just right there. I spread my hands. It’s only an arm length away. Here...

Then the rabbit suddenly disappears. Like a flash.

How? It’s as if an alien force sucked it into space. It all happens so fast.

I try to stand still and think. Not a good idea.

I fall.

The ground underneath me gives in, and I freaking fall.

I am sliding deep down into a hole. A big one. A deep one. I’m falling forever down there. Flapping my hands and legs and looking at the rainy sky through the hole’s opening above me.

I can’t believe this is happening. It’s a long fall. Will I break my neck and die?

On my way down, I see the rabbit flapping its arms and legs in midair next to me. Its ears straight up, a look of surprise in those beautiful eyes.

I realize that I want to save it. Now, why would I care about it, not knowing my own fate?

But I do.

I manage to catch the rabbit while I am falling. I hug it dearly, trying to assure it everything is going to be all right.

“It’s going to be okay.” I can’t believe I am saying that. “Trust me, it’s going to be—”

But it isn’t.

My back hits the ground at the bottom of hole. The haze surrounds me again, and this time I remember something. Many things, actually.

The first thing I remember is the March Hare and the Pillar telling me how wrong this chase felt. And they were right. I think whoever that Hatter is, he planned all of this meticulously to get me into the hole. Into the rabbit hole, like Alice did in the book.

What I remember next is more important, because it’s an actual memory. It’s of Mary Ann. I see her in my mind’s eye. She is on the floor, but I can’t see her face. Two loony figures surround her, and... they’re trying to hurt her.

All memories end abruptly when my backpack drops straight down on my face. It hurts so much, and I think I’m going to fade into oblivion.

Chapter 39

Outside the Garden of Cosmic Speculation, Dumfries, Scotland

Time remaining: 12 hours, 01 minutes

Number 9 was still watching from his binoculars when Alice fell into the rabbit hole. A broad smile animated his face.

“She fell?” Number 7 asked.

“She did.” Number 9 nodded. “Deep into the rabbit hole.”

“Finally!” Number 7 blew out a sigh. “Should we make the call now?”

“I think so.” Number 9 lowered his binoculars and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed the number and said, “The girl is in the hall, closer to the circus. Waiting for further instructions.”

Number 7 watched him listen to the person on the other line then hang up. “So?” he asked.

“The Man with the Hat says our job is done. We should be going,” Number 9 said. “He’ll take it from here.”

“Boy, if this girl only knew what she was up to.”

Chapter 40

Alice’s Dream

I am in the rabbit hole, but my mind isn’t there with me.

I am dreaming.

Remembering, maybe?

Jack is sitting opposite me at the table in the Fat Duck restaurant. I just told him he was a figment of his own imagination.

How I hate myself for doing this, now that I see how shocked he is.

“What are you talking about, Alice?” He tries to muster a smile. “No one’s a figment of their own imagination.”

I hold back the tears. His face goes pale, and I think he’s going to throw up. The truth seems to crawl on him slowly, but he is resisting believing it.

“You are, Jack.” I hold back the tears. “Trust me, you’re the best thing that happened to me in this world, but I can’t lie to you any longer.”

“Lie to me about what?” He loosens his necktie, hardly breathing.

“I killed you.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“In the bus accident, don’t you remember?”

“Am I supposed to remember how I died after I supposedly died?” He lets out a painful chuckle.

“You’ve got a point,” I say. “It’s complicated. But your name isn’t even Jack. It’s Adam J. Dixon.”

This seems to throw him off the most. His name makes him realize he shouldn’t be here, that he should step over to the other side of this life.

He slumps deeper into his chair, defeated, pale like the dead. “I remember,” he murmurs.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m really sorry. But if I don’t let you go, you will not have a good afterlife. You don’t have to stay in this world and be my guardian.”

“Why, Alice?” His moist eyes look into mine. “Why did you do it?”

“You mean the killing?”

He nods.

“I don’t remember.” I can’t stop the tears anymore.

“You said I had to die. I seem to remember glimpses of it now,” Jack says. “You said all of us on the bus had to die! Why?”

No words escape my throat. I am both crying and ashamed. I’m Alice’s frustration, mutinied by misery, repeated over and over again.

And the irony is that I don’t even know why. “It doesn’t matter, Jack. You need to let go.”

“I loved you, Alice,” he says. “I would have died for you.”

I can’t comment on this. He already died for me—in a way. Who gives away a love like that? I mean, the boy died and died again for me. He loves me unconditionally, if not borderline silly. He almost thinks about nothing but me.

“Let me stay,” he begs. “I don’t want to go. I still want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”

“That’s not fair, Jack. You can’t stay because of me.”

“I think I also want to stay to protect you from something.” He looks more confused than ever. “I can’t remember what it is, though.”

“You’re dead, Jack. I killed you once, and I have to kill you twice,” I say with all the bluntness I can muster. It hurts so deep inside I feel like I’m going to tear apart, blood will spatter out of my veins, and my brains will explode like a watermelon on crack.

“Don’t do it, Alice.” He reaches for my hand. I pull away. I hate my hand, and I hate myself. “This Pillar... he isn’t what you...”

I close my eyes, wishing he’d disappear when I open them again. Goodbye, Jack. I hardly remember you, but I know deep inside, somewhere between the layers of my heart and soul, somewhere in the middle of my brain, that I love you more than anything in the world.

But I have to let you go, because you’re probably not there in the first place.

Chapter 41

The Garden of Cosmic Speculation, Dumfries, Scotland

Time remaining: 12 hours, 07 minutes

My eyes flip open to a terrible ache in my body. My back is strangely arching upward. I feel like I have landed on a bed with a thick mattress.

I look up, but there is nothing to see. I wonder if the hole has been closed or if it’s so far away I can’t even glimpse it.

It’s all pitch black around me, as if I am buried in a grave.

Where am I?

Well, I know I am underground, but where?

One sentence comes to my mind: Alice’s Adventures Underground.

When I try to move, my body aches harder, but it’s not that bad. I don't think I broke any bones.

The place smells of dirt, and the rabbit I was chasing is absent. I should at least hear its voice if it is still here. Could something have happened to it? I remember holding it in my arms before I fell. If I am not hurt then the rabbit should be safe, too.

I cough a couple of times before I reach for my phone. I get it and use its screen as a flashlight.

I point it upward, but I still can’t see the opening of the hole. Down here, there is only dirt on both sides. I’m in what looks like a round room made of brick, maybe at the bottom of a tower. And it doesn’t look like there is a way out, unless the light from my phone isn’t reaching far enough.

I stand up and point the light at where I fell. It is a bed, like I thought, with one hell of a thick mattress.

I yell for help a couple of times but I get no reply.

Then it occurs to me to check the time on my phone. It’s almost midnight. Have I been unconscious for more than two hours? Why haven’t the police picked me up yet? It shouldn’t have been hard to find the hole. It’s one big hole.

My phone rings.

It throws me off for a second. Then I realize it’s the Pillar. I realize I have twenty-three missed calls from him. I pick it up.

“Where are you, Alice?” He sounds concerned.

“I’m underground.”

“What does that mean? We’re looking for you all over the garden.”

“I found the rabbit, but then followed it and fell into a hole.”

“A hole?” The Pillar sounds skeptical. “You mean a rabbit hole?”

“You could call it that,” I say. “I am surprised you didn’t come across it.”

“This can’t be,” he says. “We’ve been looking for you so long. The police scanned every inch of the garden. They didn’t find you. No holes, either.”

I point the phone’s light upward again, still unable to see the opening of the rabbit hole.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” I say. “Wait. Let me use the GPS.”

“Good idea.”

I fiddle with my phone and I turn the GPS on, and try to locate my place. At first, I think there is something wrong with it. Everything showing on the map is like nothing I have seen before. There are no streets. No names. Nothing that makes sense.

“What’s taking you so long?” the Pillar urges me.

“You will not believe this,” I say, still looking at the GPS on my phone. “My GPS doesn’t show street addresses and coordinates.”

“I don’t understand. What does it show?”

“A map.” I want to scratch my head.

“A map? Of course it shows a map. Now send me your coordinates or just activate your location, because I am not getting any useful info from your phone.”

“Pillar,” I say firmly, “you don’t understand. It’s a map of Wonderland.”

Chapter 42

Time remaining: 12 hours, 05 minutes

“Alice, that can’t be.”

“That’s what it says.” I try to zoom out, but it’s impossible. I can’t even log in to other applications on the internet, just look at this GPS and talk to the Pillar. “It says my location is the rabbit hole.”

The Pillar stays silent on the phone. He is as shocked as I am.

In truth, I’m not as shocked as I am fascinated by the idea: I have a GPS map of Wonderland?

“So the March Hare was right.” I try to make sense of it. “The Garden of Cosmic Speculation is a magical doorway to Wonderland.”

“I don’t know what to say to that,” the Pillar says. “Why can’t we find you, then?”

“Maybe the rabbit hole is a hole into another dimension,” I suggest. “More of a black hole, maybe.”

“So the so-called Hatter planned all this to get you to find a secret doorway to Wonderland?”

I think it over. It could be.

“Maybe all he needed was to get to that door,” the Pillar says. “He fabricated all those clues to lead you to the March Hare, who would eventually send you to Wonderland. If you hadn’t met the March Hare, we wouldn’t have been granted entry by Interpol themselves.”

“Are you saying he couldn’t have entered the garden by himself?”

“It’s under surveillance and maximum security,” the Pillar says.

“Then how did he get the rabbit in?”

“Maybe he got it inside after we opened the gates,” the Pillar says. “Maybe he is among us now.”

The idea makes me frantically circle the hole. Could the so-called Hatter be in here with me? But what are the dress, fan, and gloves for? Why would he send me in here, anyway?

“Who else will discover the rabbit hole but you, Alice?” the Pillar says. “I don’t know how this works, but it seems right to me.”

“It doesn’t click for me, Pillar.” I touch the walls, looking for a door out. If this is a replication of the rabbit hole in the books, then I should find a door out.

“Hang in there, Alice. I will talk to Inspector Dormouse. We have to find you.”

“Please do.” I squint at the walls, listening to the Pillar hang up.

It occurs to me that the door is maybe too small or too big, like in the books, so I kneel down and feel the walls.

And there it is: a small door at the bottom of the wall.

Chapter 43

Time remaining: 12 hours, 01 minutes

The door is made of steel. It’s unbreakable.

It has a small keyhole but no key. When I try to look through it, I only see darkness on the other side.

My mind can’t come up with what to do next. There has to be a key, or a clue, but I can’t find any. I stare back at the map of Wonderland. Knowing there are so many places I can get to right now drives me crazy.

I kneel down and look for a key in the dirt. There must be one. But I still don’t find any.

However, I come upon a surprise: a tiny bottle with pink liquid inside.

I lift it up beneath the phone’s light, and I don’t have to guess what’s written on the bottle’s label. It fits with the book, as if I am living the Alice story all over again—or reliving it, pick your insanity and go with it.

The writing on the label says: Drink Me.

I am totally aware of this being the Hatter’s game, and I know the consequences may be dire, but I have to play anyway. Not sure why, though. Am I doing this to find the rabbit, or...?

I pull the cork and stare at the liquid. What will this drink really do to me? It won’t shrink me, will it? That would be so unlike the real world. Of course, I have seen madder things in this world, but I feel that shrinking in size is just too clichéd.

But I suppose this is my only way out of this hole. I take a deep breath and gulp it in one shot.

My eyes blur and my head feels like it’s going to explode. The impact is too strong and I fall to my knees.

The phone rings next to me, and I can barely see the Pillar’s name flash on its screen. My hands feel numb, but I try my best to reach for it.

When I succeed, and hear the Pillar’s voice, I realize I can’t speak. My tongue is numb. I am trying my best not to swallow it and die.

Chapter 44

Queen's Chamber, Buckingham Palace, London

Margaret Kent watched the Queen get ready.

It had taken her about an hour to fit into her dress, enough time to chop a couple of heads off in between—she was upset with her servant’s sluggish work, so a dead head lay next to her on the palace’s floor.

“I’m ready, Margaret,” she wailed, powdering her face. “Are all my guests here?”

“All of them arrived, My Queen,” Margaret said. “They’re waiting in the meeting room.”

“So none of them rejected the invitation?” The Queen looked impressed.

“Each and every one of the them from all over the world is in the meeting room.” Margaret hesitated. “Except one, of course.”

“I know who that guest is.” The Queen pouted. “I expected the rejection.”

Margaret was curious. “I’m surprised you invited that guest in particular to the Event.”

“Some invitations are meant to be declined.” The Queen grinned. “But you wouldn’t understand it, Duchess. Some of my actions are too smart for the likes of you.”

“But of course.” Margaret swallowed her humiliation. After all, it was the Queen who was dumb like a drum. But she couldn’t tell her that and risk her head being chopped off. “How would I ever match your genius, My Queen. Should I announce your arrival to the guests?”

“Not before you kiss my hand.” The Queen sneered.

Margaret bowed and kissed the Queen’s hand. It wasn’t an easy task, as every part of it was wrapped in jewelry.

“That’s better, or I’d have sent you to the asylum, along with the flamingo,” the Queen said, chin up. “Now, go tell the guests I’m on my way, and once I arrive I will show them something they have never seen the likes of before.”

Margaret obeyed the Queen and left.

***

Once she was alone, the Queen pushed a button next to her bed and the secret door parted in the wall. She stepped through into what looked like a wall closet.

On its floor, there was a coffin.

The Queen pushed the lid open and stared at the woman inside. “I wonder what I should really do with your body,” the Queen said. “Should I burn it, or will I actually need to wake you up someday?”

It only took her a moment to pull the coffin to a close again. Before she did, she took one last look at the real Queen of England inside, the one she had managed to change her features to match.

The Queen of Hearts of Wonderland wasn’t happy with looking like the real Queen of England. That Queen looked too peaceful, too smiley. Where was the grit? Where was the power?

But it was a necessary evil to her—she’d made the transformation through a nonsensical Lewis Carroll potion—at least until she persuaded her visitors with her world-changing plan.

Chapter 45

The rabbit hole, the Garden of Cosmic Speculation

Time remaining: 12 hours, 01 minutes

I wake up to a continuous beeping on my phone.

Eyes still blurry, I reach for it blindly until I clasp it by accident from the floor. When I bring it to my face, I am shocked by its size. It looks as big as a plasma TV.

How so, when I am gripping it in the palm of my hand?

The pain in the back of my head attacks me, and I remember that I am under the influence of the pink drink in the bottle.

Did it really shrink me, now that I think I am smaller than my own phone?

But I’m gripping it. What kind of mind-bend is that?

Through my hazy vision, I realize that almost everything around is much bigger than me. Or I am much smaller than them.

Even the small door at the foot of the wall.

Then again, when I reach for it, I can touch it as if it’s small, not big.

The phone keeps beeping.

I push the overly big answer button—the one that is also small—and find more than a hundred messages from an anonymous number.

It must be the Hatter.

What you’re experiencing now is no hallucination—although it is in a way. It’s a medical condition, induced by the pink drink. It’s called the Alice Syndrome.

What?

Furious, I message back:

Why don’t you just talk to me face to face, instead of hiding behind the alphabet of your messages!

The reply arrives instantly:

I don’t think that will be useful, since you can’t talk at the moment.

Suddenly, I remember my numb tongue. I try to say my name but can’t. My tongue is just dangling like an earring from my mouth. I suppose it was also induced by the drink, but it feels horrible.

What do you want from me? I message back.

A reply arrives:

To continue playing the game until it has to stop.

I don’t even know what that means. He continues writing:

You will crawl through the small door and find yourself in a vast tunnel system underground. Then, with the GPS coordinates, I want you to find a place for me.

I write back:

How can I even get past the door?

He writes back:

Don’t worry, I will tell you how. You haven’t asked me about the place I want you to find. I’m starting to think you’re not taking this seriously. If you don’t, I will set the rabbit loose on the streets of London.

I have no idea how he’d send the rabbit back to London, or where the rabbit is right now. All I know is that I am dealing with craziest maniac I’ve met so far. I don’t think I can ask him where I really am.

Where is that place?

He responds immediately:

If I knew I’d have found it myself. Only you can find it. It’s either in Wonderland or the real world. I am not sure, but I know it can be accessed behind that small door—and don’t ask why.

My tongue still feels numb. I write to him:

I will do as you say, but you will show me the rabbit’s place in return when I finish your mission. Again, does the place have a name?

He takes a bit longer again:

It’s called the circus.

A lot of memories flood into the swimming pool of my brain. It’s as if I know this place, but I can’t really tell. I remember the March Hare telling me about the circus in the Garden of Cosmic Speculation, and how dangerous it is. Why did he warn me about a circus? Isn’t it supposed to be a fun place? Unless you meet the clown, of course.

I type back:

If you don’t know where the circus is, how am I supposed to find it?

A response arrives:

Once you pass that door, memories of your past should come back to you. That’s when you will know where the circus is.

I type:

Are you saying you’re one of those who believe I am the Real Alice?

The reply:

You better be, or a lot of people will die. Now get past that door.

Furious again, I write:

How?

He responds:

What do you mean how? I suppose you think you need a key. Not all doors open with keys. Some you only have to knock, and they will let you in.