Page 26 of Escaping Wonderland

Her visibility diminished as the mist thickened. Slow-moving wisps of fog connected larger, impenetrable pockets, giving Alice the sense that she was walking amidst the clouds—at least until her leading foot came down in knee-deep water and plunged into soft, hungry mud up to the ankle. The cold, squishy mud certainlyfeltreal for being a simulation.

She wrinkled her nose and was tugging her foot out of the mud when she glanced up and noticed something within the fog—the dark form of a person.

“Shadow?” Alice’s voice sounded broken and weak. Fear coiled within her, colder than the mist caressing her skin and the water at her feet.

The figure didn’t move.

It’s probably an odd stump or tree, its silhouette warped by the fog.

Pressing her lips together, Alice continued forward, her gaze shifting constantly between the figure ahead and the waterbelow. The mist recoiled from her as she moved, leaving a tiny barrier of clear air around her that was only barely enough to see the mucky water through which she waded; the bottom wasn’t visible through all the sediment she was kicking up. She moved slowly, using her toes to feel out a path that wouldn’t see her sink to her waist in mud or submerged up to her eyeballs.

As Alice neared the figure, its shape solidified—it was a woman, a human woman, facing away and standing utterly motionless.

Alice nearly breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached solid ground. She splashed the muck off her legs as she stepped out of the water and walked toward the woman.

The woman was wearing a pale green hospital gown with ties on its back, the material surprisingly clean despite the muddy swamp in which she stood.

Alice’s memory flashed back to her arrival at the asylum; though the images were blurry, she remembered them dressing her in something very similar to this woman’s hospital gown.

I was wearing the same thing when I woke up.

She’d nearly forgotten about her hospital gown, and that triggered a wave of panic. What else had she forgotten since she’d come here? What else would she forget while she was trapped in this simulation?

“Hello?” Alice said softly. “I…I’m lost. Could you maybe…point me in the right direction?”

The woman remained silent and unmoving. Her hair—short and brown—was messy and unkempt, a surprising contrast to her pristine hospital gown.

Alice swallowed and walked around the woman, keeping several feet of distance between them.

“Miss?” she asked as she stepped in front of the stranger. Alice stopped when the woman’s face came into view. Alice’s brow furrowed; she wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

The woman couldn’t be more than a few years older than Alice. She had a pretty face, but her expression was slack, and her eyes were closed. Her skin was pale enough that it was almost translucent—as though it hadn’t been touched by sunlight in years. Now that Alice was close, she could tell that the woman was, in fact, moving. The woman’s chest expanded and contracted with her breathing, which was so shallow that it was nearly imperceptible, and her eyes rapidly flicked back and forth behind her eyelids.

She’s dreaming.

Alice twisted around, suddenly aware of more figures looming nearby in the mist, all of them as still and as silent as this woman.

The blood drained from Alice’s face. She continued walking, keeping as much distance between herself and the silent figures as she could without plunging back into the swampy water. Everything was so still, so quiet, so eerie; she felt like she was walking through a graveyard in the middle of the night. All the figures—humans and aliens alike—were dressed in similar gowns, and all of them appeared to be sleeping on their feet.

She kept her eyes in constant motion as she traveled, unable to shake the feeling that she shouldn’t have been here, that she didn’t belong here, that this place wasn’t meant for the awake, for the aware.

Her gaze caught on one of the figures up ahead, which was separated from her by a fallen tree and strings of moss; there was something familiar about the tall, lean frame. Drawing in a steadying breath, she moved toward the figure. The figure’s details materialized out of the mist—the male was standing with his back toward her, but she could clearly make out his black and gray tousled hair, his long, feline ears, his gray skin.

Was that…Shadow?

Alice approached the fallen log and settled her hand on it. The bark bit into her palm as she lifted her leg to climb over.

The male was dressed in one of the hospital gowns like everyone else. A long, black-furred tail dangled from beneath it.

“Shadow?”

“This is no place for you to be wandering, Alice,” Shadow said—from directly behind her.

Alice shrieked, lost her balance, and fell forward over the log. Its bark scraped her shins and knees.

Shadow’s strong hand clasped around her right bicep, halting her fall, and he carefully tugged her back toward him. He drew her against his chest, spinning her away from the mysterious figure, and she flattened her hands on the soft, silky fabric of his vest.

Heart racing, breath ragged, Alice tipped her head back and looked up at Shadow’s mirthful face. The Hatter’s hat was perched upon the top of his head, tilted down roguishly.

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