Radcliffe Asylum
I watch Tom jump up and down in anger after hearing the March speak.
“I knew it!” He says. “The Pillar would have never asked to meet you here. It’s another one of his games.”
“Why gather us all here?” The March wonders.
“He’s got a point,” I say. “The Pillar could have just asked the March to be here as well.”
“Then who’s invited you two here? And why?” Tom pops down another pill. He seems to really fear the Pillar now. “Who’d want you here in the asylum? And why hasn’t the Pillar shown up yet.”
I cut the chitchat by dialing the Pillar’s number again. This time it’s out of reach. What’s going on?
“Could it be a new Wonderland Monster?” The March suggests. “Playing some personal game with us?”
I say nothing. I have no speculations.
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Tom dashes out of the cell, walks the halls and climbs up the stairs.
The March and I follow.
Inside his office I watch him flip through news channels, looking for a clue. Most channels are covering the new pope’s arrival in the Vatican. None of it has anything to do with us in the asylum.
“Maybe we’re reading too much into this,” I suggest. “Let’s wait for the Pillar.”
“As if he is coming,” Tom says.
“If he is really after the Six Keys, then he will still want to meet with me,” I say. “Since when does the Pillar disappear for long?”
“Alice,” The March shoots me a worried look. “Are we going to be all right?”
I pull him closer and pat him again. “We will. Don’t worry.”
“Because I should be looking after Fabiola if I’m of no use here.”
“How is she?” My question is sucked away by the sudden noise outside Tom’s office. It seems like many wardens want in.
“What’s going on?” Tom shouts behind the closed door.
“Something is wrong. Really wrong.”
“What is it?” Tom tenses, even more.
“Check out the outside surveillance cameras,” someone says behind the door. “They’re all over the asylum.”
“Who is?” Tom mumbles, switching his TV channel to surveillance.
And there we see it. It doesn’t make sense — as if anything does anymore. The March, Tom, and I are staring at the police force in every shape and form surrounding the asylum’s four corners. Some of them are ready with their guns and rifles pointed at the building.
“What in madness’ name is happening here?” Tom gapes at the screen, staring at it.
“Whatever it is, the message was right,” I say. “It’s happening. ”