Circus - Jace Cameron - Страница 22
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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.
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