Family (Insanity Book 7) (23 page)

“What’s going on?” I finally ask.

“Part of the police force reported strange activities in the water. They can’t see the boats yet,” Tom says. “I think it’s because they could not imagine we escaped through a door that led to the river. But they’re shooting at the water near the asylum.”

“Soon they’ll expose us,” I say, pulling myself up. A Mushroomer is already helping Constance, giving her CPR.

I kneel down and check her body from head to toe as he does.

“What are you looking for?” Tom asks.

“Bullets. I think she’s been shot.”

But then Constance coughs. It’s a painful cough, full of spurts and water. She even coughs out a small fish. My heart flutters with happiness.

I reach for her head, as I feel no one else has the right to hold her in their arms but me right now.

“I thought I’d lost you,” I say.

She only coughs, says nothing back. The darkness and the bullets shooting in the distance should alert me, but I’m all safe here with her in my arms.

“You’ll be all right.” I do my best to hold my tears back. “I promise you that you will be all right.”

“I think we should row away,” Tom says. “Before the police discover us.”

“The movement will alert them,” I say.

“You saved me?” Constance says with half her strength.

I rub her wet hair and nod. “I did. I dove down there to get you. What happened to you?”

“I bumped into something and lost consciousness I guess.” She seems emotional about it.

I hug her tighter and kiss her forehead. “It’s okay. You’re all right now.”

“I’m not all right,” she says feebly — but stubbornly.

“Why?” I ask.

“Because it was me who’s supposed to save you.” She drums a feeble hand against my chest. “I’m supposed to save you.”

And suddenly, I see it. I see how we all can be hard on ourselves. Even though we do our best, and sometimes perform miracles, we’re just dramatic creatures. We seek perfection. Stupid perfection that has no meaning whatsoever. The same way I’ve been taunting myself for not doing the best job, Constance has been persuaded she should do a perfect job. Just like superheroes in a movie.

But that’s not real life.

We do what we have to do, and the results will always stand short. It’s not so much the results that make it up. It’s that we tried. It’s that we cared.

I mean, the little stubborn girl literally walked through shit to save us, and did show us a way out of the asylum, but still thinks she didn’t do her best. I think we need to ease up on children. They’re handling too much pressure these days.

I hold her tighter and look in her eyes. “Constance, do you see all those Mushroomers in the boats?”

She lifts her head and nods, tears in her eyes.

“All of them are alive because of you,” I tell her. “I’m alive because of you.”

She nods.

“All of us will go back to our families and hug them and play with them and spend a good time with them, because of you,” I continue. “Families will be bonded and kids will be raised by their fathers and mothers because of you.”

Her starry eyes look at me for a while, then she says, “But your family died, Alice. You don’t have a family.”

“Oh, you stubborn foolish cute girl,” I tell her. “I do have a family. And they’re alive.”

“You do?” Her eyes widen.

“Yes, you.”

Chapter 95

Control Room, The Radcliffe Asylum

The Dude had just closed the door behind him and stared at the Pillar. They both knew the police wouldn’t get them as long the door remained locked, but they weren’t sure about how long it’d stand strong against the pounding outside.

“They will try to bomb it sooner or later,” the Pillar said, rocking on the chair and smoking his pipe.

“So what are you waiting for?” the Dude said. “I thought you’d stand up and burn them with you and the asylum.”

“That’d be heroic, yeah?” the Pillar winks. “Actually, I can’t stand up until you leave. I don’t want you to die with me.”

“I had to come back.”

“I knew you would.”

“I have a question.”

“I know you have.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“All of this? You’re confusing everyone. You’re not a good man. You know that.”

“Good and bad are hamburgers and donuts. It’s hard to tell which is worse for your health.”

“Stop the insane analogies and games,” the Dude demanded. “Answer me.”

“Ask me.”

“
Why are you doing this?
”

“And by ‘this’ you mean?”

“Saving Alice wherever she goes. Of course, you do it in the weirdest ways, but you keep on planning behind her back to save her.”

“It’s a hobby of mine. I like to save people. Besides, you’re as guilty as me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you do it?”

“Do what?” The Dude tensed.

“Save Alice. You, too, do it in the weirdest ways.”

“That’s because you told me to do it this way.”

“It was the only way possible.”

The Dude said nothing. He knew the Pillar was right.

“We had a deal,” the Pillar said. “A plan we put together.”

“We did.”

“It was risky, but necessary.” The Pillar dragged from his pipe, as if he were Freud and the Dude was his patient. “It worked, don’t you think?”

“It worked very well.” The Dude chuckled a little, his face still veiled in black. “But you never told me you’d blow up the Queen’s head.”

“I never planned to.”

“Then why do it?”

“I just couldn’t resist. I mean me with the gun and this obnoxious stocky thing standing before me. Chances like these happen once in a lifetime.”

“Killing her complicated things.”

“Life is always complicated,” the Pillar said. “Except when you consciously decide it isn’t.”

“I wish I’d written down most of your quotes,” the Dude says. “But I guess there is no time.”

“Yes, there is no time. You have to leave. I have to burn someone.”

“It’s true,” the Dude said. “But before I leave, tell me what’s coming.”

“Meaning?”

“This war that’s starting, what’s it about?”

“The most precious thing.”

“You keep saying that,” the Dude said. “It’s vague.”

“It won’t be when Alice reads my Wonder note, which should be the first thing you do when you escape with her.”

“Just the note? One word? Can it explain everything?”

“It’s my Wonder. It’s the only thing I did right in my life. So yes, it explains everything.”

The Dude tapped his foot on the floor. “Okay, so where is my costume?”

“You don’t need a costume,” the Pillar said. “Just take off that Reds’ cloak and walk out to the police. They will trust your face. They think you’re one of them. I believe you know what to do next.”

“I know,” the Dude said, and took off his costume.

Chapter 96

The River

In the middle of the war, there is love. In the depth of the dark, there is light. The moment I and Constance hug as family members is short, but in my heart it will last forever.

It’s not only an incredibly rewarding moment, but it’s one that proves that good things come in great amounts. Behind me, a Mushroomer says the following: “Alice, you have to see the March.”

“What about him?”

“He just spat out something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re not sure what’s going on, but the March is alive.”

Constance and I jump to our feet and follow the Mushroomer’s gaze. He is looking at the boat next to us with the March’s silhouette propped up on his elbows.

I jump into the water, and Constance follows me. We climb up into the next boat, hoping it’s true, that we’re not imagining this.

“March!” Constance beats me to him and takes him in her arms.

I kneel before him, blinking, still not sure what’s going on. But it’s him. He is exhausted like hell, but he is alive.

“How is that possible?”

“Magic.” He raises an eyebrow.

“What kind of magic?” I ask.

“I’m not sure, Alice, but all this time you’ve been holding me, I was alive.”

“No way.”

“I just couldn’t move or speak. I think I was in some kind of a coma.”

“That’s because of how hard she mushed your head,” Constance teases me. “But I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I’m sorry, March,” I apologize dearly, still unable to understand.

“You don’t have to apologize, Alice,” the March says. “The shock therapy worked. I know all you need to know. It’s just that this thing had been stuck in my head and once I spat it out, I could finally breathe again.”

“What thing?”

The March lifts his hand and shows it to me. I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry or consider this utter nonsense.

“This was it? This what was stuck in you and you could not breathe or talk?” I giggle.

“And now that it’s out, I remember very important things.”

Gently I pick it up and stare at it. It’s a light bulb.

“You’re kidding me,” Tom says from behind my back. “You actually had a light bulb in your head? And you spat it out your mouth?”

“The one that Black Chess had installed a long time ago.”

“That’s absurd.”

“What isn’t these days.” I roll my eyes.

“And you spat it out in one piece?” Tom says. “I mean, no shattered glass or anything?”

“It’s a strong light bulb. A spying one. Made by Black Chess,” the March says, though his argument is utter nonsense as well.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I tell him. “It means a lot to me. I thought I killed you.”

“But you’re not asking the right question, Alice,” the March says.

“What right question?”

“Do you remember Patient 14’s puzzle?”

“Yes, what about it?”

The March recites it to me:

I’ve hidden the Keys in plain sight.

A place so bright in the dark of the night.

Are you the one to get it right?

I’ve hidden the Keys in a … of light.

Constance jumps with mirth. “I got it!”

So did I. The missing word was ‘bulb.’

“Patient 14, who knows of the Six Keys’ location, hid them in a
bulb of light.
”

“A light bulb?” Tom scratches his temples.

“It means Patient 14 hid it all in the March’s head,” Constance explains. “That explains why Black Chess planted a light bulb in his head. Somehow, the March has all the truth installed in his head but can’t remember it.”

“Or it could be Patient 14 installed the bulb to hide the information beneath.  Like he said in the puzzle
I’ve hidden the keys in plain sight,
” I offer my suggestion.

 “So I assume Patient 14 hid it in your head when you both met in the Hole?” Constance asks the March.

The bullets in the distance are getting louder now. It seems like we need to move, but I can’t stop listening to the March. Because his last words change everything.

“That’s partially true,” the March tells Constance. His eyes find mine and he says, “I told you that I remember a few things now, right? Not all, but important things.”

“You did,” I tell him. “What else do you remember, March? Do you know where the Six Keys are?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he says. “But I know who Patient 14 is.”

All of us sink into silence. There is no point in asking question. We just want to hear him say it.

“I am Patient 14, Alice,” the March says. “Lewis told me about the Keys. He trusted me. And me only!” He definitely says it like a proud child, but then his face droops. “But the secret was too hard to hold. I couldn’t resist telling anyone, so kept it in my brain, jotted the writing on the walls before they transferred me from the Radcliffe Asylum to the Hole, and took that terrible Lullaby pill to forget about it.”

“That’s why the puzzle on the wall said only one person could understand it,” I say. “Like a child, you’ve played a risky game, and wrote a message to yourself.”

“It was fun, Alice. It was so much fun.”

And the fun continues with bullets now hitting the ships.

Chapter 97

White Hearts Hospital

Fabiola heard the news on one of the lesser-known channels — which usually told the truth to gain more viewers — about the possibility of a meticulously organized escape by the Inklings. The news covered the unexplained shooting near the river at the back of the asylum. It also mentioned that it was too dark for their film crew to see, exactly, what was happening. .

The channel seemed to support the Inklings, saying they didn’t deserve to be executed but should have a fair trial.

Fabiola’s heart fluttered all of a sudden. Maybe she’d been given a second chance to let go of her stubbornness. If Alice managed to save the Mushroomers, she could in no way return to her Black Chess days.

The healing process of her injuries was expedited, but it was still a long time before she could walk.

Lewis Carroll dashed back into the room, looking like a nonsensical version of Sherlock Holmes. Heck, with these clothes he was wearing, he didn’t even belong to this timeline. People would make fun of him in the streets outside.

“All done,” Lewis said proudly. “I haven’t kicked ass like this since I wrote Alice in Wonderland.”

“You should have seen what he did.” The rabbit flexed its muscles.

“I think Alice is alive.” Fabiola pointed at the news.

“I know she is,” Lewis said. “I don’t need the news to make sure. So are you ready?”

“I am.” Fabiola smiled. “But I can’t move.”

“I will hold you until we get there,” Lewis said. “The Inklings need us.”

“Does this mean what I think it means?” Fabiola said, watching him pick her up from the bed.

“I told you,
it’s happening
,” Lewis said. “You just didn’t believe me.”