Page 74 of Escaping Wonderland

He grasped the side of the pod and hauled himself over. His legs refused to support him when his feet first touched the floor. He collapsed, keeping his torso upright only because of his desperate grip on the edge of the pod. With a grunt, he pulled himself onto his feet. The room teetered and turned around him, and his stomach revolted, threatening to empty itself of whatever meager contents it currently held.

For a moment, he staggered backward and waved his arms to catch his balance. His tail brushed against something solid behind him, and he stiffened it, producing just enough force to push himself forward. His flailing hands swung overhead and came down, latching onto the lid of his pod. As his weight bore down upon it, it swung closed. He leaned against the pod andcaught his breath. His body was too heavy, too weak—it felt like his bones were made of rubber, and, despite the numb spots everywhere, every one of his muscles ached.

How long had he been in that pod?

How long had he been in Wonderland?

Swallowing thickly, he surveyed the room. His pod was but one of many—at least thirty more stood in a row beside it, split almost evenly to the left and right, each with the same thick bundles of cords, tubes, and wires connecting it to the wall. A single door stood at the center of the wall opposite the pods with a blank screen mounted on the wall five or six feet away. The lights were turned low, leaving the glowing screens over each pod that much more vibrant in comparison. All the displays showed what appeared to be vital signs—pulse rates and oxygen levels and other things he couldn’t understand—along with names and a small string of letters and numbers. The name over his pod was Kor, Vailen.

Shadow growled as pain blazed in his skull, so intense that it felt like his head would split in two. He raked his claws across the top of the pod, scraping metal. Memories flashed through his mind in rapid, violent succession, too quick and disjointed to make sense of—gunfire, explosions, screams, fire. An alien sky set aglow by the flames surrounding hundreds of dropships as they descended from orbit.

Doesn’t matter now. Need to find Alice. Need to hurry.

He thrust the memories aside and stumbled toward the door on the far wall, turning to look across the screens over the other pods. No Claybourne. No Alice. His chest constricted with another surge of panic—he didn’t know how big this place was, how many rooms awaited him, how many pods like these were scattered throughout the facility. There wasn’t time for a prolonged search; who knew if the passage of time here even matched Wonderland’s?

“Focus,” he said. He turned back toward the door, and his eyes settled on the dark screen on the wall.

Shadow hurried to the screen. Each step was a little more solid, a little more confident, than the last, but his fingers were clumsy and slow as he fumbled with the screen’s controls. Exhaustion pressed in around the edges of his consciousness, making his eyelids feel as heavy as the rest of his body. He fought it.

“Coming, sweet Alice. Coming.” Somehow, he found his way into a program namedPatient Directory. The touch screen display brought up the characters of the human alphabet.

Flattening a palm against the wall to keep himself steady, he entered Alice’s name one letter at a time, only to realize he wasn’t sure how to spell her last name. He held his extended finger in the air and struggled to recall the spelling rules of a language he doubted was his native tongue.

C-L-A…

He hesitated. What was next?I?Y?

The nearby door slid open before he could settle on the correct letter, allowing slightly stronger light to spill in from the hallway. Shadow pressed himself against the wall as a male human stalked into the room.

The human had long, dark hair, and was athletically built. He held something in his trembling right hand—a pistol.

He stopped three or four paces away from Shadow’s pod, aimed the gun toward it, and fired six shots. The firearm went off with explosive force, each shot punctuated by the highpingof the projectiles punching through the metal lid.

Shadow flattened his ears, but that didn’t stop them from ringing as the final gunshot’s echo faded.

“Fucking nuisance,” the man growled. “Now you’re arealfucking ghost.”

Shadow knew that voice. He knew itverywell. This human was the Red King—and he was alone and vulnerable. The fires of hatred and rage reignited in Shadow, dumping adrenaline into his veins and filling his limbs with renewed strength.

The king is vulnerable beyond.

Clenching his jaw, Shadow crept toward the king, his bare feet silent on the cold floor.

The king strode up to the pod, keeping his gun raised. “You deserve to suffer, but I’ll take this victory gladly. Vanish now, you—” The king leaned forward and looked through the window on the pod’s lid. He released a frustrated roar which ended just as Shadow—who’d closed the distance between himself and his enemy to a single pace—brought his leading foot down.

Shadow had overstepped; in his effort to maintain balance, his toe claws tapped the floor lightly.

The king spun to face Shadow, swinging the gun around. Shadow lunged forward, one hand darting out to catch the king’s wrist before the gun’s barrel came to bear. But the king closed the distance between himself and Shadow quickly, eliminating the reach advantage afforded by Shadow’s longer limbs.

The human’s fist connected with Shadow’s jaw, and Shadow’s head snapped aside. His knees wobbled, and the king pressed his advantage, throwing more strength and weight behind his gun arm.

Shadow’s eyes rounded as the trembling weapon turned toward him one degree at a time, its barrel yawning like a black hole, ready to snuff out light and life. He grasped the king’s jacket with his free hand and pulled the human closer still, driving his knee into the king’s gut.

Grunting, the king doubled over, but he wasn’t long deterred. He hammered his fist into Shadow’s defenseless ribs over and over, each blow producing more pain than the last. Shadow refused to relinquish his hold; to do so would mean death. Hecurled his fingers tighter. The tips of his claws pressed into the flesh of the king’s wrist. The human’s pained growl became a shout as Shadow twisted his hand, forcing the claws deeper.

The gun fell from the king’s hold and struck the floor with a dull thud. The king punched Shadow’s ribs again, and something crunched under the force.

Shadow staggered aside as the breath fled his lungs, forced out by the immense pain clutching his chest. Instinctively, he willed himself to phase, to escape, to reappear anywhere other than right here, but this wasn’t a simulation, wasn’t a game; this was reality. Whether it was the aftereffects of being in the pod or not, right now, when it mattered most, Shadow was slower, weaker, and more unsteady than ever in memory.

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