Hookah (Insanity Book 4) (17 page)

“Because of a plant I accidentally came across in the Garden of Cosmic Speculation.”

“A plant that makes one tell the truth?” I ask.

“In the strangest ways,” the March says. “I think it’s not from this world, but from Wonderland. It must have crossed over somehow when one of those portals opened.”

“Cut the chit-chat, and get to the meat of the matter,” the Pillar says.

“I refused Carolus’s offer, although he was too tense that day, suffering from his migraines as usual. He offered to bring me back to Wonderland, but I still refused because I knew he was lying to me.”

“How can you be sure?” I say.

“Think of it. Lewis Carroll was never trapped in Wonderland, and neither was his split persona. Lewis was the one who locked most of the monsters in,” the March says. “Lastly, Carolus made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

“What was it?”

Just as the March is about to tell me, we hear the sound of another engine in the air.

“Who’s following us?” the Pillar asks his chauffeur.

“The Reds!”

And they are starting to shoot at us, midair.

“W
hat was the offer you couldn’t refuse?” The Pillar aggressively pulls the March by his ears.

“He offered to help me get rid of the one thing that made the Reds follow us up here in the air.” the March cries.

“You mean some kind of a detector?” the Pillar says.

“No.” The March’s eyes dart upwards. “The light bulb in my head. The one Black Chess installed to know what I’m thinking about.”

The Pillar sighs, his neck stretching as he stares up at the ceiling. His stare is so intense that I feel the need to protect the March. The sound of showering bullets outside makes things worse.

“Guess what, kiddo,” the Pillar tells the March. “If Black Chess had access to that light bulb in your head, they’d have known how to stop the plague, because they have no use for a disease that will end the world for good like that.”

The March’s ears tense in the Pillar’s hands, and at the same time I hug the kids, worried they’ll get hit with the bullets. “Have you ever had a light bulb in your head?” the March grunts back.

The Pillar says nothing.

“Then you have no idea what you’re talking about.” The March pulls away from the Pillar’s grip, not like a strong man would do, but like an angry child. “What you’re not paying attention to is what is really going on, Pillar!”

The March spits all over the Pillar’s face.

“Tell us, March.” I squeeze the Pillar’s hand. “Tell us the whole story. Why did you pretend you’re with the Reds? I noticed they nudged you to tell us the things you told us in that room in Brazil.”

“I’d better help my chauffeur with firing at the Reds.” The Pillar disappears into the cockpit, although I know he can hear us from there.

“After I cooked him his plague, Carolus betrayed me,” the March says. “That was two years ago. I didn’t see the point in telling you when you visited me, because the plague wasn’t known to the public then.”

“I understand.”

“Three days ago, he kidnapped me from the Hole and hired the Reds to imprison me in Brazil.”

“So the Pillar was right. Everything you told us down there was influenced by the Reds.”

“They drugged me with a different plant that forced me to say whatever they told me to say, and they were secretly threatening me with a knife, but none of you noticed.”

“And the Executioner part?”

“That was the Pillar’s suggestion because he always feared the Executioner, so we went with the flow, letting you believe whatever you wanted to believe.”

“What was the point of all of this?”

“I don’t know,” the March says. “I don’t think even the Reds know. But it was all Carolus’s plan.”

“Which means he knew we’d end up in Brazil. How about the part about only me being capable of killing him? I’m not sure that’s even true.” I face the March Hare again. “Or?”

“Actually, that’s the one thing that is true,” the March explains. “If you remember, I only told you this part later in the conversation when the effect of their drug was wearing off. It still hasn’t completely.”

“And that’s all you remember?”

“For now. I’m sure I’ll remember more when it wears off completely,” the March says. “But the part of killing him, I heard it when one of the Reds was talking to him on the phone yesterday.”

“But you didn’t hear how I can kill him?”

“Sorry, no. They didn’t discuss it.”

“Let’s say this is true. How is killing Carolus going to stop the plague?”

“There is only one explanation,” the March says. “That I cooked it that way.”

“Is that possible?”

“It is, but I can’t remember if I did. Why would I cook a plague that can only be stopped when Carolus dies?”

“L
ook.” The Pillar returns, rubbing off powder from his suit. “This whole story doesn’t make sense. I know this kiddo isn’t lying.” He points at the March Hare. “Because I know he’s one of the Inklings. But whatever Carolus staged for us, there is something that doesn’t make sense.”

“And?” I say.

“Your only hope is that you get back to London and kill Carolus.”

“Even if I do, I don’t know how.”

“I’m sure you do, Alice.”

“I don’t. Stop counting on me that much. There are things that I don’t know.”

“You know more than you think.” The Pillar steps up. “Like the key Carroll gave you and you didn’t tell me about. Try to remember. He must have given you a clue how to kill his split persona.

“He didn’t even mention it.”

“Well, then let’s have a tea party here on the plane with this loon and his light bulb and watch the world end from above.” The Pillar steps away and starts rummaging through some stuff. “I hope we have enough fuel to last after the end of the world.”

“All right,” I snap. “I will try my best to kill Carolus.”

“Good girl.” He pulls out two machine guns.

“But first, I need to send the kids to Fabiola to take care of.”

The Pillar stops, stares back at the kids, that serene smile flashing again. I think those kids are the only ones he smiles at that way. I wish I could know more about his connection to them. “Of course,” he says. “Although the Vatican is already a mess. I’m hoping Fabiola can accommodate you safely in her church.”

“So to the Vatican first?” asks the chauffeur.

I nod at him.

“Oh, God. I miss Fabiola so much.” The March Hare claps his hands.

The Pillar looks back into his guns and straps on a backpack.

“And where are you going?” I grimace.

“Get closer to the Reds’ plane and open the back of the plane,” the Pillar shouts at the chauffeur. He stares at me with admiration as the back door slides open. “It was nice meeting you, Alice.”

The air swirls like angry ghosts into the plane, as the Pillar puts on his goggles.

“I have a war of my own,” he says, turns around, and jumps midair onto the Reds’ plane, which is a little lower than ours.

The door slides back to a close. All of us are totally astonished.

“Where is he going?” I ask the chauffeur.

“To hell, my dear Alice.” The chauffeur nods. “To hell and back.”

The Reds’ Plane

“I
s that the Pillar who just jumped on our plane?” Ace, the leader of the Reds said.

“It’s him, Ace.” said number Three.

“So he’s about to do it?”

“It’s looks like it,” said number Three. “It was inevitable, if you ask me.”

“Bring my parachute,” Ace ordered. “I’d get your parachute too, if I were you.”

“So we’re abandoning the mission?”

“We’ve done all Carolus asked of us,” Ace said. “He wanted us to bring him Alice, and I believe she is on her way to London now. Our job is done.”

“And the Pillar?”

“We should be all gone when he enters the plane,” Ace said. “His war isn’t with us.”

“I heard he’s unstoppable when he’s angry.” Number Three said, strapping up. “You said his war isn’t with us, Sir. May I ask who the Pillar’s real enemy is in his war?”

“His past, number three,” Ace said, and jumped out, leaving the rain of bullets attacking the plane behind.

The Pillar had arrived. 

Radcliffe asylum, Oxford

A
rat, with a cell phone between its teeth, scurried its way through the sewers into the asylum.

“That’s the worst thing that has happened to me, possessing a rat’s body twice in one day,” the Cheshire thought.

First he had possessed Edith’s body in the Wonders’ house to make sure she and her sister weren’t the Tweedles, but then they proved to be ordinary useless humans like others.

Now, he was getting curiouser and curiouser.

He scurried farther among the Mushroomers who’d spotted him and tried to slap him dead with their shoes.

Some rats die in the worst ways, he thought again. Had any of those ugly humans ever thought how it’d feel being killed under a giant shoe? And what happened when the first hit didn’t kill the rat. Were they going to finish their kill with another hit?

Not that the Cheshire liked rats. As a cat, he sometimes ate them, although he thought they tasted awful. What did you expect from something that lived in sewers?

But he’d stand up for a rat against any human on any given day.

Still scurrying away, his phone rang in his teeth. He shuddered to the vibration and decided enough was enough.

He possessed a Mushroomer and stooped over to pick up the phone from the rat he’d once possessed.

“Yes?”

“It’s Margaret.”

“I’m still looking for Tweedledee and Tweedledum,” he said, seeing that none of the other Mushroomers paid attention to him. Now that was the beauty of living among insane folks. They wouldn’t give attention to such a sentence like the one he’d just uttered.

“I don’t think that’s necessary now. Plans have changed.”

“I’ve almost lost one of my nine lives in my quest, and you tell me plans have changed?”

“The Queen is about to make things worse with one of her stupid plans again.”

“What? She decided to cut off the headless horseman’s head?”

“Worse. We’re on our way to the UN headquarters in Geneva. We’re meeting with the presidents of the world.”

“Got an appetite for some sightseeing while the world is going down?”

“The presidents of the world are supposedly discussing how to deal with the plague.”

“I bet that’s a camouflage for something else.”

“They’re actually planning how to get the elite people of the world to escape if the world really ends tomorrow,” Margaret said. “They will even have part of the fake conference broadcasted on TV, but that’s not the issue.”

“I think I know what the issue is. The Queen is about to turn this conference upside down somehow.”

“Yes. She wouldn’t tell me how, but what worries me is that she and Carolus became friends all of a sudden.”

“That’s wonderfully weird in a very sinister way.”

“I think he told her a secret about the plague that we don’t know of, and they made a deal of some kind. I don’t know what it is.”

“Frankly, I don’t care. I’d be happy to see everyone in the world die, and I have nine lives. I wouldn’t mind living in this world, although it means I’d end up possessing rats and cockroaches.”

“I think you better come to Geneva, Cheshire. I have to go now.”

The Cheshire hung up, not really caring about what the Queen had in mind. He’d come here to find the Tweedles, which he thought was a fun pursuit. If it wasn’t Edith and Lorina, then he suspected it’d be Dr. Tom Truckles children. The Twins. Todd and Tania.

And he was about to find out. Only one thing stopped him now. He realized that as a Mushroomer, he was locked behind bars now. How he wished he hadn’t let that rat go.

St Peter’s, The Vatican

“G
et in, children,” Fabiola urges them.

I make sure the March Hare and chauffeur get in safe as well. The world outside in the piazza has gone bonkers. The basilica is the last resort for the uninfected at the moment. The early morning twilight slants through its dome, reminding me I have less than twenty-four hours to kill Carolus.

“Where is the Pillar?” Fabiola asks.

“He jumped out of the plane,” I say. “I have no idea why.”

“Good.” She took the March Hare in her arms. “Missed you, buddy. Really missed you.”

“I love you, White Queen. It’s been so long. I want to go back to Wonderland.”

“Someday, March. Someday.”

Watching the old March playing child and mother with Fabiola is a bit strange. I like the March. I can feel the purity of his heart when I talk to him, but how is he supposed to be an asset to the Inklings?

The children gather around Fabiola as well.

Fabiola is like a universal language. Every color, ethnicity, and gender throw themselves in her arms. She is like a light at the end of a dark tunnel. It’s either the fear of the dark or the freedom of light in arms.

I sit next to a few uninfected in the church, watching Fabiola organize everything. She makes sure all entrances are perfectly locked, that there is food for everyone, and that no one has gotten infected somehow while inside.

“You did a great job, Alice,” she tells me. “I’m repeatedly impressed by your insistence to make the world better.”

“Thank you,” I say. “It was a bit of a darker ride in Columbia, however.”

“I know.” She holds my hands. “The Executioner?”

“How come there are such bad people in the world?”

“I don’t specialize in analyzing bad people. I prefer to look for the good in people and help them bring it out. It’s a better way to look at the world.”

“Not with the Pillar, I guess.”

She almost lowers her gaze. “The Pillar is a man who often has the chance to be good yet prefers to walk the other side.” Her voice is a bit shattered. “I feel no salvation for him.”

Well, putting it that way makes sense. I have to admit I am confused about him, but she just described my problem with him exactly. Every time I fall for his charm or sarcastic look at the world, he throttles me back with a bad move.