Yellow School Bus / Carolus
T hinking is a drag. It stops you from taking action. From being in the moment.
I scoop a rifle from the bus’s floor. Constance’s legs show from under a seat, but I don’t look. I turn back, pretending I am the Pillar. Pretending I am blunt and calculated and willing to sacrifice everything to get shit done.
I disembark the bus with a limping leg, checking out the rifle for ammo. Every damn word the Pillar has ever taught me, I remember. It’s like he has been preparing me for this moment.
The ammo is good. My legs aren’t.
In the distance, I see a big smile on Carolus' face. He now knows the secret, having opened the March’s mind.
He grins back at me, and takes a turn to run off to Mr. Jay.
You can’t kill Carolus because you’d be killing Lewis Carroll, which means there will be no hope to save the children.
But I can’t let the secret pass to Mr. Jay.
I raise the rifle, check the ammo again, ready it, raise it to my eyes, close one of my eyes, aim at Carolus, take a deep breath, finger on the trigger, eyes following him closer. He is on top of a few small mushroom, ready to jump to the other side.
I aim and say, “Sorry, Lewis,” and I shoot.
Carolus falls to his knees but rests on one hand.
I shoot again.
He flips on his back and falls.
I limp closer to him, panting.
Standing over him, I see he is still breathing.
“You will never see Lewis again,” he warns me.
“If it means I will never see you again,” I say. “Then Lewis will understand.”
I fire and empty all bullets left in his head.
Exhausted, I throw the rifle away and limp back to the March. He is still on his knees with the glowing Six Keys on his head. His face is glowing too. I sink to my knees in front of him. He smiles with his eyes.
“Beautiful,” he says.
“What is beautiful, March?”
“You are, Alice,” he says. “You made so many children happy.”
“Are the children safe?” I ask.
“Not quite,” he answers. “But you can save them.”
“How?”
“I will tell you. They’re ready.”
“Ready?” I grimace. “How?”
“Someone is gathering them to read books all over the world,” he says absently. “I can see it in my mind.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry about that now,” he says. “You have one last battle left.”
“Me?”
“With Mr. Jay, Alice.”
“I thought so,” I nod. “I guess keeping the secret away from him isn’t enough. He will still come for you.”
“Yes, he will. And you will fight him. The ultimate fight, Alice. You will need your Vorpal sword.”
“I nod again, then say, “March, what do you remember? What is it that we had to lose so many lives for?” I point at the cap. “What do you remember?”
The March smiles, “You want to know?”
“I’d like to know the secret, if you don’t mind.”
The March grabs my left ear and whispers. The world around us is collapsing into an apocalyptic mushroom madness while he says, “I remember tomorrow.”