T he mortician's face knots in anger when she hears Jack Diamonds' voice. Jack prefers not to enter the room. It's hard to understand why. He just opened the door from the other side. The Cheshire can't actually see Jack from this angle. I haven't seen Jack yet either; I've only heard his voice.
Please, God, don't make it just a voice in my head. But come on, the door is open. It can't be a voice in my head.
It drives the woman mad that someone is saving me.
"Come on, Alice," Jack urges me. I can only see his hand, reaching out from behind the door. "It's so cold where you are. I don't think I can get in."
"But I have to kill him first, Jack," I say.
"Kill who? Is there is someone with you in the room?" He wiggles his hand. "They are all dead."
"Who are you talking to, Alice?" the Cheshire blurts in anger. "There is no one there behind the door."
"Don't play games with me, Cheshire." I raise my mallet, ready to strike, as he is approaching again. "Who else do you think opened the door from outside?"
"I don't know." He shakes his shoulders and puts his head on. Sometimes, I really don't understand his intentions. Is he trying to give me a message, so I continue my investigation, or is he trying to hurt me? The more time I spend with him, the more nothing makes sense. "But I know there is no one out there." Now he grins again. "And I know you can't kill me. You might have wounded and injured a poor woman, but you can't kill me."
"Alice!" Jack finally pulls me outside. He does it fast and with a bang. Never have I thought he was that strong. He pulls the door behind me and locks it with a digital code on a pad next to the wall. The code is 1862. The date in my vision when I met Lewis was 1862. What are all these puzzles, and what are they supposed to mean?
"Are you okay?" His hands search my face, looking for a bruise. He makes sure I am all right. Never have I seen someone so concerned about me. "Thank God you're okay, Alice. I was so worried." His cuteness doesn't match his seriousness, but it's understandable. When I lay my eyes on Jack, all I think about is fun.
"I am so glad to see you, Jack." I wrap my hands around him as he touches my face with his gentle hands. His touch is warm. I need it, even inside a morgue. Who the hell are you, Jack? Why do you always come to save me?
With my emotions flaring, I hug him tightly. I embrace his body and feel I'd like to hide inside it. Maybe he could shelter me from the mad world; maybe he could shelter me from my mind.
"Wow," he jokes as he pats me on the back. "It's too soon for that. I like a girl to take it slow, who takes me out for dinner first and tells me funny stories."
I hit him lightly on the chest while I am in his arms. His silly jokes make me think this world isn't worth any anger. I wish I could be like him.
"I was thinking about you, Jack." I stare at the closed door, waiting for the Cheshire to open it from inside at any moment. "You make me feel..."
"Funny?" His hands run through my hair. I can feel his breath on my ears.
I nod.
"You're a funny girl, too," he says. "You just have bad taste in clothes. Always stained with blood."
"Come on, you confessed you liked me in the Vatican. I heard you in the booth," I tease.
"Guilty as charged." He raises a hand to his chest.
"We have to go, Jack." I stare at the door. "He has a key."
"Who has a key?"
"The Cheshire."
"Who?"
"You remember the nasty old woman chasing me in Belgium?"
"Wow. She must hate you so much." He rolls his eyes, not even questioning what is happening.
I nod, not having the strength to explain.
Suddenly, sirens blare outside the morgue as we speak. I gaze at Jack for an explanation.
"It's the police," he says. "We need to get you out of here."