Hookah (Insanity Book 4) (22 page)

“I
had to find you so I could finally kill you, Alice Wonder.”

I am about to laugh at him. “That’s not even my real name.”

“You’re right,” he says. “I needed to kill you with my own hands, Mary Ann.”

He begins approaching again, his balloon showing the night all around me. I wonder if they are some kind of weapon. He sounds so confident.

“Back off.” I point my umbrella at him. “Or I’ll shoot.”

“You know the Bandersnatch bullets won’t kill me.”

The worst thing is that I do know. What could possibly kill Carolus?

“I thought Lewis told you how to kill me.” He stopped again. Carolus surely likes to chat a lot.

“Everyone keeps telling me Lewis must have told.” I am going crazy. “But he hasn’t.”

“Maybe he did, and you just missed the message.”

“No! He didn’t.” I take a deep breath after losing control for a moment. “He showed me to his studio. I saw one of the doors to Wonderland. I saw the rabbit in his pocket. I saw the photographs of the girls he took. He talked to me, and he was nice to me.” I realize tears are about to trickle down my cheeks. I can’t help it. “He never even told me about you.”

“That’s because I am the part he likes to forget the most,” Carolus says. “Like everyone else, no one wants to admit their dark half exists.”

“You sure do talk too much.” I hold back the tears. “What do you really want? You would have killed me already if that’s what you planned all this for.”

“I like a fair fight,” His shoulders twitch now. “It th-th-thrills me.”

This is when I realize the full beast is facing me now.

“How fair can this get? I don’t remember how to kill you.”

“So-so let me remind you.” The grin on his face could kill a few people in this life alone.

“Tell me.” I am reluctant, but if he wants to play, let’s play.

“Lewis must have given you something precious and told you not to tell about it.”

“He did,” Sorry, Lewis. A lot of people know about the key. It’s too late to pretend I don’t have it. “A key.”

“Never realized what it’s for?”

“No.”

“How about you check that small button on your umbrella weapon for a start?”

“Button?” I look and find it instantly. I remember pushing it before. It opens a small groove where a bullet should fit in, except no bullet ever did.

“Now try to load your umbrella with the key.”

My heart races. I pull out the key, about to fit it in.

“Not all keys open doors, Alice,” Carolus says. “Some keys open skulls.”

I
t’s hard to tell how long it takes to squeeze the key bullet into place.

At first, my shaking hands drop it. Then, as I kneel to pick it up, it suddenly rains, not balloons, but icy waters.

With a blurry vision, on my knees, I feel the earth, looking for my lost key, well aware of Carolus running my direction.

Faster, Alice. Don’t think about him coming at you. Just do what you have to do. A fraction of a second could save lives.

I find the key, not looking in the monster’s direction, tuck it in as I’m standing to my feet. I grip the umbrella with a fist of steel, close one eye to aim better, and...

“Stop!” The Pillar grips my umbrella.

I’m still gripping it too, and I won’t let go. What’s with the Pillar? But what really stops me from shooting Carolus is that he stops once he lays his eyes on the Pillar.

“It’s a trick,” the Pillar says behind me. “Don’t shoot him.”

“What do you mean? Killing him is the only way to save the world.”

“No. It’s also the only way to kill Lewis Carroll for good.”

This throws me off. What did he just say?

“Carolus infected the world to find you, not because only the Real Alice will be brave enough to confront him, but because only the Real Alice will have Lewis Carroll’s most precious key.”

Carolus is slowly getting madder now. “Don’t believe him. The Pillar is a liar. Always has been.”

“I’m not lying, Alice.” The Pillar’s voice is stable, smooth, nothing rocks him away. “Didn’t you ever ask yourself why Lewis didn’t remind you of the whereabouts of the rest of the keys when he gave you this one in the Tom Tower?”

“It crossed my mind, but I never understood.” I’m still aiming at Carolus.

“Because he doesn’t know. Lewis only has one key in his possession. A special key. One that opens skulls, like Carolus said. Lewis gave you the key, the bullet, that kills him.”

“Why?”

“In case he couldn’t defeat his split persona, Carolus Ludovicus, his inner demon,” the Pillar says. “Lewis Carroll trapped all Wonderland Monster, except of one. His darker part which he couldn’t tame or control. Killing this part kills Lewis. True, they are like night and day, darkness and light, but they are one.”

“You were ready to die so you could kill Lewis?” I stare at Carolus.

“I hate him!” Carolus drops to his knees. “All these migraines. All this pain he went through and he still loves those terrible kids. He still writes those stupid books and poems to make people laugh. I hated how he still had passion for life after all that he’d been through – both of us have been through. I wanted him to unleash his anger on the world after the Circus. Why does he still love human children after the Circus? I never understood. Why he lives with his pain, not telling anyone about it. It drives me crazy. Lewis Carroll must die.”

I’m shattering on the inside. It’s not the icy rain. And not even the exhaustion I feel. It’s the darkness I see inside Carolus Ludovicus. How come this kind of hatred exists in the first place? “I still have to kill him,” I tell the Pillar.

“Why?”

“Look at him. I won’t let a monster like him run away. He will run away like the Cheshire. I am not going to let the villains escape every time. And the plague. If I don’t kill him the people in the world will kill each other.”

“Saving the world might not be like in the movies, Alice,” the Pillar says. “It’s not really about killing the villain right away. It’s about saving lives first. We’ll figure out how to face the plague on our own.”

“No.” I cement my feet and make sure I have a clear shot of Carolus. “This kind of darkness in the world has to end.”

“Remember when you told me Fabiola told you about staring darkness in the eyes?” The Pillar’s voice is unusually soft. “Don’t let it stain you, Alice. Don’t let bad people turn you into an equally violent hero.” He hesitates then says, “Don’t be like me.”

C
arolus disappears in the rain, behind his floating balloons, just like the darker side in all of us. The Pillar says it’s better this way. That there is nothing wrong with having a dark side. It helps us know, and appreciate, our better side.

It’s hard to take moral advice from a serial killer, but Fabiola tells me the same when she arrives. It takes her a whole minute to pull my finger free of the trigger.

Hypnotized by this strange world, they show me back to the Pillar’s new plane. I get on. Fabiola makes me a cup of warm milk. The Pillar jokes that it reminds him of the man we met in Mushroomland who thought he was a bottle of milk.

His joke doesn’t resonate with me. I just let a monster go. The world is so dark right now I’d really like to sleep.

Some time later, we land in the Vatican. Fabiola brushes a kiss on my forehead. “At least you now know you’re the Real Alice.”

Then she disappears out of the plane. It occurs to me that the world sounds too quiet outside, but I’m too tired.

I fall asleep again.

The next time I wake up I’m in my cell back in the asylum. They’ve bought me a new bed. It’s clean. Comfy. I am thinking it’s too late for such luxury. The world will end in a few hours.

Next time I wake, the Pillar hands me that bottle of milk again.

“I’m not the Cheshire, don’t worry.” He jokes. “Drink it. You’ll be good tomorrow.”

“Wait. I thought there was no tomorrow?”

“I guess you didn’t hear it while you were asleep.” He stops on his way out. “The March remembered what happened exactly. It turns out Carolus instructed him to design a plague that would wear off in three days.”

“Impossible.”

“It’s true. Of course the world is left a bit damaged. A few million divorces, coworkers who never want to see each other again, and a few thousand dead. The same you read in everyday news. But we’re still alive.”

I try to smile, but my lips feel as rigid and fragile as china. I’m afraid if I laugh I’ll break in two.

“And nothing is impossible by the way,” the Pillar says before leaving. “Only losing hope is possible.”

The Pillar’s Cell, Radcliffe Asylum, Oxford

A few days later

I
am slowly tiptoeing my way up to the Pillar’s cell. There is hardly anyone blocking my way. I’m suspicious.

When I arrive, there are many Mushroomers lined up next to the Pillar’s cell. They’re craning their heads up, watching the news on the Pillar’s private TV.

Closer, I see Tom Truckle, and two teenagers beside him, sharing the Mushroomers’ stare at whatever is being broadcasted.

“Alice!” the Pillar chirps from his couch, a hookah hose tucked between his lips. “Come watch this.”

I walk among the Mushroomers. They all look happy I am better now. Even Tom makes way for me to step up into the Pillar’s cell.

“We’re wanted criminals, me and you, isn’t this amazing?” The Pillar points at the TV.

I read the headlines: A serial killer and his daughter invaded the UN’s headquarters yesterday, along with a strange-looking old man, trying to invoke chaos. It’s unclear whether they wanted to kill the American president or the Queen of England.

“It’s strange no one’s talking about the plague,” I remark.

“The plague is one day old. That’s too old for news channels.” The Pillar drags on his hose, wiggling his feet. “But us trying to kill the president, that’s news. They’re discussing if they should send us to Guantanamo.”

“We’re that dangerous?”

“I had no idea,” the Pillar says.

“I’m glad they didn’t drag Fabiola into this.”

“They can’t.” He waves his pipe. “Politics. It’s like saying Jesus Christ came down and peed into the Queen’s pot of nuts. Conflict of interest is what it’s called. Keep looking. It gets better.”

“Why are you so stoked about this?”

“Because I just saw it ten minutes ago. Just keep looking.”

I watch the host receive a bulk of papers, read and make a face about it. She says, “Apparently, only two of the criminals will be sent to Guantanamo. The elder man, Professor Carter Pillar, must have been there by mistake.”

“What?” I turn to him.

“Just keep watching. It’s so frabjous I’m going to vomit butterflies.”

The host continues. “Professor Pillar turned out to be a national hero, having ended the reign of drug cartels in Columbia on his own.”

“You’re a national hero?” I point accusingly at him.

“For only five minutes. Just keep looking.”

“Okay.” I look around. “Did you see Jack by the way?”

“He escaped. We don’t know where he is. Don’t worry. He always comes back. Now, look!”

This time the host has decided to change her mind again. “Sorry for this confusion, but the newest thing we know is that the three of them, Carter Pillar, Alice Wonder, and Jittery Jinks all escaped lunatic asylums during the plague which explains their mischievous behaviors, including the horrible matter of killing hundreds of innocent Columbian men.”

“Told ya. Hero for five minutes,” the Pillar says.

“This will only make my problems worse.” Tom Truckle grunted. “I should have never let you two out of here.”

I am speechless. It’s a mad world indeed. But aside from needing some time to reflect on what happened with Carolus, I need to find Jack. Did he escape, looking for me?

“Where are you going?” The Pillar pulls me back. “You haven’t seen the best part.”

This time, when he points at the TV, a broad laugh from the heart escapes my lungs.

They’re airing a still image of when the Pillar and I were injecting the Queen and the American president. From this angle, this picture looks so misleading. The Pillar looks as if he has his hands up the president’s butt, mine in the Queen’s.

And it’s not just that. The grins of victory on our face proves without a doubt we’re the looniest loons in the world.

The Pillar tries to suppress the laugh for a second but then explodes. He throws the hookah and pulls my hand and starts dancing with me.

Then the Mushroomers start laughing.

A few wardens snap out of the shock of what they’re looking at and join us laughing hysterically.

Even Tom’s teenagers laugh with us.

Everyone laughs but Tom, who pulls out a load of pills and swallows them without water. He then stiffens, unable to control the laughs. Trying to shout at us doesn’t work. The veins on his neck stick out with anger, and I’m afraid he is going to have a heart attack.

Then a miracle happens.

Tom Truckle begins laughing like a madman. I don’t think he knows what he is laughing about, but it’s progress from him.

Buckingham Palace, London

“G
et your hands off me!” The Queen roared at Margaret, trying to mend her wounds. “I have an itch as big as an apple on my butt.”

“Royal butt heals faster than all” A young man enters her chamber all of a sudden.

The Queen and Margaret look perplexed.

“Don’t worry, I’m not Jack,” the Cheshire said. “I just borrowed him for a while. Very useful, fella. Good looking, too.”

“What do you want?” the Queen says.

“I want you to meet my friend.” The Cheshire welcomes Carolus inside.

“What is he doing here? We made a deal. I thought he was going to kill Alice while I ruled the world.”

“Funny how none of this happened.” The Cheshire enjoys a slump into a sofa and stretches his leg, his boot in the Queens face.

“You look like you want your head cut off,” she said.

“You know you’ve never succeeded in doing that, not even in Wonderland.”

“What do you want?” Margaret said.