Present: The River near the Radcliffe Asylum
W e’re in the river, stuck inside a boat, me, Constance, the March Hare, Tom Truckle and the Mushroomers. The sound of bullets is deafening. The shouting voices from the land are creeping me out. Waltraud and Ogier are lining people up, giving them guns or encouraging them to swim over and kill us.
A man, who could easily be some girl or boy’s father, is holding a semi-automatic and is staring at us. His loving eyes are two knobs of dark obsidian anger right now. He prepares to shoot at us.
“This isn’t Inklings against Dark Chess,” I mumble with fear. “This is World vs. Wonderland.”
“Which sounds bonkers already,” Tom Truckle can’t help himself. He shudders behind me. A coward with no ability to defend anyone. “You mad Mushroomers. Get away from me!”
I want to tell him to swallow some of his pills, so he shuts up, or I swear I will drown him in the river. But he has lost them in the escape. It’s Ironic how the Director of Radcliffe Asylum is the maddest among us now.
“Get out of the way, loser,” Constance pushes Tom away and addresses the Mushroomers. “Man up and fight back!”
All we have are a few boats. March and Tom are on mine. March is unconscious. Tom is talking gibberish and not helping.
I am still eyeing the man with the semi-automatic, wondering if he is going to shoot. Waltraud and Ogier seem to be organizing something. A proper way to attack us?
But no, I get it. They can’t swim over and have to wait for us coming to shore.
“I am sure that soon they will be shooting us from above or something,” Constance says. “They want us out of the water.”
“What do you think they have in mind?” I ask her.
“I don’t think. I know,” she points away. “Can’t you see it?”
“What?” I squint.
“Look, Alice. Look.”
Then I see it. “Oh,” I fight the urge to clamp a hand over my mouth. In the distance, troops of soldiers are arriving. “This is war.”
“And I thought we were at a picnic,” Constance makes fun of me. “Lead us, girl. You’re the chosen one.”
Her words cut through me. I am afraid I might not be the chosen one. But hell, I have to be.
“This is like a zombie movie,” another Mushroomer squeaks. “The world wants to wipe us out.”
“I can’t believe it,” Constance mumbles, still pointing at the soldiers. I look again and realize it’s not just troops that are coming for us. I see tanks approach the shore.
“This is going to suck,” I mumble back.
“Didn’t I tell you, you’re not the Real Alice,” Tom can’t stop, “You’re just a mad girl in the asylum. And the Pillar was madder. Now he is dead. We have no one to save us.”
Constance has her hands on her waist. She blows out a long sigh and stretches her neck. Then she pulls a rope from the bottom of the boat and walks over to Tom. In a flash, she binds his hands behind his back.
“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll duct-tape your filthy mouth,” she tells him. Then the tough girl comes back to me and says, “All good, boss.”