Madness (Madness #1)

Chapter 27

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Outside, outside, outside!” Hare shouts, his hand clutched tightly in mine.

The cool evening air brushes against my face, and I breathe the crisp air into my lungs as Hare runs towards Red and the others who all sit beneath my tree.

I smile in response, no longer craving solitude while I’m out here.

My eyes instinctively begin to search for Thatcher, hoping he’ll still come out to see me, even with the others nearby.

As I get closer to them, I see a flash of white through the thorned bushes behind the tree, and my heart sinks.

I ignore the calls from Red and the others, walking through the thorns, not caring as they tear at my trousers and nick my legs.

Thatcher can’t be gone again.

I can’t lose him again; the pain would be far too much to bear.

“Harry!” Red calls after me, the others shouting my name in unison as Red warns the guards to back off.

They don’t like it when we wander into the unknown past the overgrown shrubbery in case there is a hole in the fence that surrounds us, but none of that matters right now.

Nothing matters as the white fur covered in blood comes into view, and my whole world stops.

I fall to my knees, the wet mud soaking through my trousers, and I cry out, cradling his tiny body in my arms.

“No!” I chant repeatedly, rocking him in my arms as I’m transported back to my childhood home all over again.

Al comes over to me, his hand on my shoulder. ”It isn’t him,” he says.

“Are yi dumb as well as mad? Thatcher is clearly dead.” I want to shout at him, to lay my friend at my feet and throw myself at Al until all this pain is transferred somewhere else .

Al shakes his head in response, “A little mad, but that isn’t Thatcher. He’s not wearing a waistcoat.”

“What do you mean, Al?” Red asks him.

She drops to my side, her presence a comfort I desperately need at this moment, and rests her head on my shoulder, her eyes never leaving my furry friend in my hands.

“Thatcher has a waistcoat, just like the guards are cards. I know I sound bonkers… crazy even, but my delusions only affect certain people and things, and Thatcher always had a waistcoat.”

I lift my tear-streaked face to meet Al’s eyes, a tiny spark of hope igniting in the depths of my grief.

The weight of the tiny, lifeless body in my arms suddenly feels less crushing, but the loss of an animal’s life still makes my soul ache. “Are yi sure?” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the pounding in my ears.

Al nods firmly, “I’m positive. Thatcher always has a waistcoat. That is not Thatcher.”

Red grips my arm, “We’ll search every inch of this place until we find him.”

I nod slowly, allowing myself to look closer to the rabbit in my arms and see that it isn’t Thatcher. With a heavy heart, I stand with the tiny creature in my arms and dig a small hole behind the trees, laying him to rest, and whisper a small apology for mistaking it for my friend .

We turn back towards the tree, the guards reluctantly stepping aside, and I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder one last time.

“Come on, let’s find Thatcher,” Red says, interlinking her fingers with mine and tugging me away from the small grave that could have been so easily my friend.

Determined to find him, we split up and search the grounds.

The minutes feel like hours, and I feel like my heart is going to leap out of my mouth the longer it takes to search for him as we comb through every nook and cranny. The twins search by where the guards stand stationed, and Red, Al, and I all continue our search towards Bander’s greenhouse.

When I start to think all hope is lost, the sight of the greenhouse has relief rushing through me, and I hope like hell that Thatcher is inside.

“Harry!” Red shouts as I sprint towards the glass house and step through the jimmied door. I sweep my eyes over the tangled greenery, hoping to see a flash of white.

Small, barely inaudible squeaks draw my attention to the back; rushing over, I find Thatcher, trembling but unharmed, between two broken plant pots, shattered glass, and overgrown plants.

I scoop him into my arms, cradling him tightly as relief washes over me, “Thank goodness,” I whisper, feeling the warmth of his body against my chest. “Whit happened?”

“Fox,” is all he says as he burrows into my T-shirt, and I hold him closer.

Red catches up, Al following closely behind, both panting heavily, “Is he okay?” she asks, worry etched on her face.

“Aye, just terrified. That bloody fox got in again,” I reply, gently stroking Thatcher’s fur to calm him and myself down.

I can feel his tiny heart racing, the beat pumping furiously against his chest, but his trembling starts to ease.

“I’ll talk to Jameson. Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” Red says, glancing around the chaotic greenhouse, “Bander also seriously needs to organise this mess.”

“He leaves?!” Al exclaims, his hand mere inches away from a particularly toxic plant.

Red slaps his hand, “Don’t touch his plants! They can kill you, and yes, he does but don’t fucking say a word about it. The guards don’t know.”

I keep Thatcher in my arms as we leave the greenhouse, not daring to let him go just yet as we meet up with the twins.

“Does the greenhouse not remind you of something?” Red asks.

“Alice.”

“What?” Al responds .

“Nut you, yi idiot. Thee Alice.”

“Thee Alice was rumoured to have had a greenhouse, a place where she found solitude,” Red explains to Al.

“Sounds as if it’s just a rumour,” Al says, picking at a scab on his arm, “It was not the start of a legacy!” he shouts, startling us all.

“Whit?” I ask, soothing Thatcher’s fur as he begins to tremble.

“Tell that nitwit to shut up! The bloody fox took a year off my life,” Thatcher’s nose twitches aggressively, “I’d like some rest before you leave me alone out here again.”

I chuckle at him, “A will see whit a can dae.”

Al seems to ignore us all, getting lost in conversation with the voices in his head. We’ve learned to ignore it, something that makes Al… well, Al, but when the outbursts grow more aggressive, I begin to grow more concerned.

“Mad… I’m just mad, mad, mad… Alice was in Wonderland… lost down the rabbit hole… escaped, escaped, escaped. Legacy, not a legacy…” Al’s ramblings become more erratic, his eyes blown wide as he once again loses his mind.

Red takes his arm, leading him away as tweedle Dum and Dee wave to us from the tree, and I follow them with my eyes until Red’s safely inside the building with him.

“What happened?” Dusty asks, his voice laced with concern .

“He lost it… again,” I sigh, “We mentioned thee, Alice, and he went bonkers.”

Desmond shakes his head, “I think White’s been messing with his meds.”

The twins exchange a look, “She liked to experiment down in the rabbit hole, drugging us with different drugs to see what would get a reaction and what wouldn’t,” Dusty explains, his eyes taking on an almost haunted

“She’s sick. Twisted, a vile woman. How she and Red are related, I’ll never know.”

Thatcher twitches in my arms, wriggling to be let down. “That woman gives me the heebie jeebies. Let me go so I can go check on Duke.”

“A will come check on yi tomorrow. Stay safe tonight, and a will get Wocky to fix the fence,” I say to him, giving him one last stroke before he hops away past the bushes.

“In now!” one of the guards by the door shouts, indicating our time outside is done.

Dusty nods, dusting off his trousers, “You know, it’s not just the meds. It’s this whole place. Wonderland… it does things to people.”

“Wi need to find a way to help Al, really help him. Maybe wi can figure out whit White’s been giving him and see if Bander kens a way to counteract it.”

“We need to be careful, though. White’s always watching, and if she finds out that we are onto her…” Desmond trails off the closer we get to the doors, not wanting the guards to hear us .

I shiver at the thought, “Then wi dae it quietly.”

Once inside, Hare runs past us towards a waiting Jameson, “Red’s our best bet, but maybe talking to our warden is another option. Maybe ask him to call us all to his office so it’s not suspicious?”

“Why would he help?” Dusty asks.

“Because wi are all…” I pause, thinking of the right word, “Wi all care for Red.”

“And does he?” Dusty asks again.

When I glance at Desmond, I see the knowing spark in his eye, and I chuckle, “Probably mare than any o us. She is his treasure, and he’s the Jabberwocky guarding it.”

Doris squeaks happily when I enter the room, and I smile, immediately going over to her cage.

I lay my hand flat for her to climb onto, and her little feet tickle the palm of my hand as she scampers up my arm to her favourite place on my shoulder, “What took you so long?” she squeaks.

“Thatcher wis lost. A fox got in and hurt one of his friends.”

“Is he ok?” Doris balances on her back legs, her little nose twitching.

“Aye, he is now,” I say, stroking her head.

Doris nuzzles into my neck, her soft fur brushing against my skin. “I’m glad he’s safe,” she says, her tiny voice filled with concern.

I nod, “Me tae.”

Doris’s eyes widen, “Do you think the fox will come back? ”

“A hope no,” I reply, “Red’s asking the warden tae fix the fence so Thatcher and his friends will be safe, so let’s no worry aboot that right noo. How aboot a treat?” I pull out a sunflower seed from my pocket, and Doris squeaks happily.

She nibbles happily on the seed, her tiny teeth making quick work of it, “Thank you,” she squeaks between bites, “You’re the best.”

Red knocks on my door timidly, cracking the door open, “Hey, you busy?”

“Never fir you.”