Kitabı oku: «Alice in Zombieland / Алиса в Стране зомби», sayfa 3

TWO
Of Smoke and Shadows

Alice dusted herself off and looked around. The hall of peculiar doors was gone, and so was the doorway she had just passed through. She turned in a slow circle, half expecting the Rabbit to appear again, muttering urgently. But there was no sign of him – just the endless stretch of the strange world she had fallen into.

“No matter,” Alice said aloud, though the ticking watch in her hand gave her pause. “If you want to go out of somewhere, you must go through somewhere first. That's only sensible.”

Satisfied with her logic, she began to walk. The ground beneath her was soft and springy, and the air carried a faint, sweet rot, like overripe fruit left too long in the sun. Towering mushrooms loomed overhead, their luminous caps casting shifting patterns of light. Tangled vines dangled lazily, their tips brushing against her as she passed. Every so often, she thought she heard whispers, but when she turned her head, there was nothing there – just the dry rustle of leaves scattered across the grass.

Ahead, a faint glow marked a clearing. As she stepped into it, she saw a large mushroom at its center, its cap wide enough to provide shade for a small crowd. Seated atop it was a creature so peculiar that Alice stopped short. A Caterpillar – or at least, something that resembled one – was lounging there. Its segmented body shimmered faintly, with patches of its shell appearing cracked and brittle, as though time or decay had begun to claim it. It held what appeared to be a pipe that emitted thin tendrils of mist that swirled with a faint, sickly green glow. The mist clung unnaturally to the air, as though reluctant to dissipate.

“Why are you here?” asked the Caterpillar, its voice sharp but trembling slightly. Its many legs shifted as if it were trying to steady itself, and its eyes gleamed with an unspoken urgency.

Alice tilted her head. “Why am I here? Well, that's a rather peculiar question, isn't it? I was following a Rabbit – a very odd Rabbit – and now I'm here, wherever here is.”

The Caterpillar exhaled a plume of green mist, its antennae twitching. “That doesn't answer the question.”

Alice frowned. “But how can I answer properly when I don't know what you mean? If you mean why I'm here at this precise moment, it's because I walked. If you mean why I came down the Rabbit's hole, it's because I was curious. And if you mean why I'm still here, well, that's rather your fault, isn't it?”

“Curious?” The Caterpillar sneered. “That's a pitiful excuse. People get curious about all sorts of things – why clouds float or why mushrooms grow – but they don't tumble into holes over it. What a bother.”

Alice straightened. “I don't think it's fair of you to judge when you haven't tumbled into any holes yourself.”

“I don't tumble into holes, Alice,” the Caterpillar drawled, each word floating lazily like smoke from its pipe. “I make them. And I always know where they lead. It's the tumblers who don't.”

Alice shifted uneasily. “Well, I didn't mean to come here. It was a mistake – a misfortune. I didn't want to end up in a place like this.”

“A mistake?” the Caterpillar declared, slow and smoke-laced. “No, I don't think so. They don't cometo me by mistake.”

Alice narrowed her eyes. “And what are you, exactly?”

The Caterpillar took another long drag from its pipe, the glowing mist swirling around its form like a veil. “Me? I am what waits. What watches. What wonders when the wondering stops. But if you need something shorter – call me the welcome committee.”

“Well, I should call you terribly unhelpful,” Alice muttered. “Which way should I go to leave, then?” she asked, lifting her chin. “Surely there's a path out.”

The Caterpillar chuckled, a low, curling sound. “As if you really mean to leave,” it said. “If you wanted to leave, Alice, you would never have come.”

Alice bristled. “You don't know anything about me!”

“No,” the Caterpillar agreed. “You're a case to be unraveled. Something new in the stale breeze. But I know that you haven't been here long, that your cheeks are rosy, and your eyes still shine. Have you eaten anything? Drunk anything?”

Alice frowned. “Not yet. Why?”

“Why?” The Caterpillar exhaled slowly, a faint chuckle curling in his throat. “You didn't even notice the cake or the bottle? Marked so plainly –Eat me, Drink me?” His tone was more amused than scolding, as if the oversight were part of a long-running joke only he understood. He tapped his pipe against the edge of the mushroom, sending a lazy puff of green mist into the air.

Alice blinked in confusion. “What cake? What bottle? I didn't see anything like that.”

The Caterpillar exhaled a slow coil of mist and smiled – not kindly, but with a shade of amusement. “No, I don't imagine you did. Curious how the pieces shift when they're left to move on their own. How does one miss what's meant to be found? That's a trick worth studying.”

“Perhaps,” Alice retorted, “if one is too busy chasing Rabbits and trying not to be flung about by a stubborn doorknob, one might overlook a few things.”

The Caterpillar muttered something under its breath, its antennae twitching. Then it gave a small, amused shake of its head. “Doorknobs are curious creatures. Always pretending to be the key, but they're really more like riddles. Sometimes they open doors. Sometimes they open you.”

Alice's eyes narrowed. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

“You don't have to understand it for it to be true,” the Caterpillar said mildly, then gestured toward the mushroom. “Eat.”

Alice folded her arms. “Why should I eat anything you offer?”

The Caterpillar sighed, its glassy eyes flicking toward the edges of the clearing. “Trust isn't on the menu here, Alice. They'll find you soon enough, rosy cheeks and all.”

Alice's stomach turned at the cryptic warning. “Who's 'they'?” she demanded.

The Caterpillar ignored the question. Instead, it leaned closer, its voice dropping to a whisper. “It's bad manners to face a world in ruin on an empty stomach, don't you think?”