“Go! Go! You must go!” March yells. He giggles and then begins to sing the same words over and over again, dancing around in circles. It’s exactly the thing that makes my anxiety crank up a notch. Nothing like a raving lunatic twirling around and singing your doom when death is waiting right outside the door.

I assume the Bandersnatch are the same beasts I saw the Red Queen riding on in the tea-induced vision. No one has specifically told me what they look like, but that sound they make, it’s the same as the one I hear now. If it really is the same creatures, we need to move fast. I don’t have any desire to meet the beasts head on.

The Hatter doesn’t waste any time at all before he’s grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the back of the cabin.

“You didn’t drink your tea!” March shouts, and a teacup shatters against the wall before us, the glass shards raining down. Tea drips down the wall, leaving a red stain behind. It looks just like blood. The Hatter doesn’t even react.

The screech sounds again, a little closer than before. The Hatter isn’t fast enough to cover my ears this time, and I feel wetness run down the side of my neck. I grimace, grinding my teeth against the pain.

Hatter leads me to a back door I hadn’t noticed before. It’s designed to look more like the wall, blending in so as to hide it. Hatter shoves it open and tugs me out after him. It’s a wonder my arms are still attached. I seem to get dragged around a lot in Wonderland.

I have a moment of panic that we’re walking out into the same forest as those creatures, but I don’t have time to focus on it. We step into the tree line. We pick up our pace until we’re practically sprinting through the trees. I focus, instead, on not tripping over the roots beneath our feet.

Hatter’s house isn’t far away, only a twenty-minute leisurely walk. I know it isn’t far, but it seems so much further when you’re running for your life. There is no way we can outrun the Bandersnatch. Even the March Hare couldn’t, and he had been fast.

Tree branches rip at the train of my coat behind me, tearing at my already tangled hair. The Hatter tries to keep the worst branches from hitting me in the face as he pulls me, but he can only do so much. I feel the wood making small cuts across my cheeks, but it’s the least of my worries right now. I feel my energy wane, the little sleep I’ve gotten wearing on me.

The Bandersnatch screeches draw closer, growing louder and more frequent, like hounds that have picked up our scent. For the first time, I realize there’s more than one, after all. There are too many screeches. I can barely hear past the roaring in my ears and the thumping of my heart, but their calls still pierce through the sounds. My chest squeezes, and I trip, but I never hit the ground. Hatter’s grip is like iron, and I’m on my feet again before I even realize I’m falling.

My breath saws in and out, my heart threatening to burst from my chest. My legs stumble through the underbrush, the Hatter the only reason I keep going. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

I hear teeth snap behind me, the sound of jaws slamming shut on a snarl.

It’s taking too long. We aren’t going to make it. The Bandersnatch are closing in.

We are going to die.

“Hatter,” I wheeze, terror clawing at my throat. My legs are moving slower, my body beginning to shut down.

He looks back at me. His eyes lift over my shoulder, and they widen in fear. For just a moment, there’s absolute terror on his face.

“Hatter,” I repeat, and I know he can hear the horror in my voice. The acknowledgment of what is going to happen next. I can’t keep going. I’m not strong enough.

His face hardens, and he jerks my arm hard, my shoulder popping from the sudden move of him pulling me into his body. He pauses our stride barely a second to scoop me over his shoulder, his arms locking around my legs to keep me secure. The last bit of air in my lungs whooshes out of me as his muscles dig into my abdomen hard.

“Hang on, Clara Bee,” he shouts, and then we’re moving faster.

But not fast enough. Nowhere close to enough.

Thrown over his shoulder as I am, I have a prime view of what’s behind us, how close they are. I wish I couldn’t see them. Three great, hulking creatures bound through the trees, running side by side, dodging trees in their path. They don’t seem to mind the branches or the undergrowth. Instead, they seem to break through everything they barrel past, their bodies absorbing the impacts. They are pitch-black in color, resembling giant wolves you see in horror movies back home. These are like no wolves I have ever seen, though.

Much like the March Hare, they’re rotting in places. One is missing his great red eye, a gaping hole where it used to be. I can see the bone underneath, glaring white against the black fur. I clamp my hands over my ears when one lets out another screech, lifting his head into the air as if to howl. The sound is deafening this close. They snarl, blood dripping from their maws as they open their mouth wide, the skin folding back over their face to reveal the sharp teeth inside. Their teeth look a mixture between an angler fish and a saber-toothed tiger. But the Bandersnatch aren’t the most terrifying things behind us.

Riding on the back of the Bandersnatch in the middle rides a woman. Her skin is pale, her hair such a pale-blonde that it looks more white than yellow. Her dress is blood-red, the same color as the blood dripping down her chin, down her neck, and smeared around her eyes. The dress has a massive skirt that flies behind her as the Bandersnatch bounds forward. On her head, sits a blood-red crown, dripping with jewels. It catches the light from nearby glowing plant life, sending sparkles like fireflies around her. She’s wearing the most evil smile I’ve ever seen. I recognize Alice instantly.

“Hatter!” she roars, her face scrunching into a look of pure rage.

The Hatter runs harder, pushing himself as fast as he can go.

“Hatter,” I whisper, choking on the word. My hands clench in his jacket at his back. “We have to go faster.”

I can feel him panting beneath me, the run wearing on him. The extra weight he carries, it’s slowing him. I’m slowing him down.

“Leave me.” My voice wobbles. His arms tighten around my legs, to the point of pain, but I don’t comment on it. “Leave me and run.”

“Stop it!” he pants. “I won’t.”

“We’re going to die. If you leave me, you’ll escape.”

“No!” he roars. “I won’t allow it!”

I look at the Red Queen again and meet her eyes. She grins, and I remember all the pain she’s caused Wonderland, all the pain she’s caused the Hatter. I want to hurt her. I want her to pay for her sins, for her crimes. I want to be able to fight her. Realization dawns on me.

“The gun!” I exclaim, smacking the Hatter on the back. “The gun! Please tell me the gun is still in my holster!”

Cheshire had armed me with the Heart Breaker, and Hatter had slipped it back into my holster when we were trying to escape the Knave. Hatter’s shoulders tense, and his breath shudders.

“It’s in your holster still. You still have it,” he wheezes.

I run my hands up the Hatter’s back and to my hip, reaching for the holster. My fingers wrap around the grip, and I yank the gun free, the snaps popping open that kept it secure.

The Red Queen is close enough now that I can make out the color of her eyes. Pitch black, no pupils, no whites. She looks like the demon she is.

The riding is rough, but I’m able to hold the large gun in my hands, ready to point it at the bitch on the Bandersnatch. My abs cramp at the strain of lifting my body up enough to aim. I grit my teeth against the pain.

“Wait!” The Hatter’s voice is barely more than a rasp at this point, his breath sawing in and out. “A clearing.”

Just as he says it, we break through the trees, right into the clearing he mentioned. He stops right in the middle, spins and plants me on my feet at the same time. I raise the gun and point it at the Red Queen entering the clearing on the back of the Bandersnatch. For once, my hands don’t shake, my anger giving me strength I didn’t know I have. The Hatter stands behind me, his hands on my shoulders, bracing me for the recoil of the gun. I assume it’s going to be a strong one. I will probably need all the help I can get.

To the Queen’s credit, she doesn’t seem bothered at all by the gun I have trained on her. The two Bandersnatch flank her sides, spreading out. There’s more snarls behind us, and I feel the Hatter spin, putting his back against mine.

“There’s three more behind us,” he whispers. I can still hear the whistle in his breath, his body heaving from the exertion.

“What are the chances we make it out of this alive?” I ask, my voice hard.

He doesn’t reply, and I take it for the answer it is. I reach behind me with my weaker hand and grip his tight in my own. If I’m going to die, at least, I’m not alone.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” the Red Queen, Alice, asks, tilting her head unnaturally to the side. I’m angry that her voice still sounds sweet even though it’s dripping with malice.

Neither of us answer her. I stare her down, keeping the gun trained on my target.

“Has the Hatter gained another pet, hmmm?” she asks. “Did he tell you I used to be one of his pets?” I watch her, the gun aimed right at her heart. “Did he tell you how he destroyed me?”

“I see nothing but a woman who is exactly who she is. The Hatter didn’t turn you into a monster. You are a monster,” I growl.

She laughs, the sound like tinkling glass.

“You’re a cute one. Pray tell, what is your name, woman?”

I grin at her, bracing against the Mad Hatter’s back as I prepare myself. Her eyes narrow.

“I’m Clara Bee,” I reply.

I have the satisfaction of seeing her eyes widen in shock before I pull the trigger. A sound like a bomb going off echoes around the clearing, the force of the shot shoving me back hard against the Hatter. We both stumble, but he keeps us from falling, grunting under the force of the recoil. Whatever bullets are inside the chamber, three of them shoot from the barrel. I watch almost in slow motion as the bullets explode outward, sharp points spinning around them as they head for their targets. Apparently, the gun aims itself because two of the bullets go for the flanking Bandersnatch. I watch one snarl, its lips peeling back over its face and razor sharp teeth snapping as it tries to avoid the bullet. It isn’t fast enough. The bullet hits dead center, ripping through brain matter and skull and exiting the other side, before finally embedding in a tree. The tree trunk shatters, and it begins to fall backwards, away from the fight.

The other Bandersnatch dodges, but it still hits its chest. Both of the beasts go down, crumbling into furry heaps on the ground. It sends the remaining Bandersnatch into chaos. They snap their teeth, snarl, great globs of saliva dripping from their jaws, but I ignore them all. My eyes are riveted to the last bullet, the one meant for the Red Queen.

Her Bandersnatch isn’t quick enough either. It rears up on its hind legs, exposing it’s soft underside. The bullet enters its sternum. The other bullets tore through the others with no resistance. It doesn’t meet any this time either. The bullet passes right through the beast and slams into the Red Queen’s stomach, sending her flying from its back and to the ground in a heap of red material. A scream of rage echoes around the clearing. I don’t get a chance to breathe a sigh of relief.

That shot would have killed anyone else. Hell, it would have killed an elephant. The Red Queen immediately springs from the ground, her hand clamped over the wound as she takes a step towards us. Blood wells around her fingers, dripping down the front of her dress.

“You ruined my dress!” she snarls.

I raise my eyebrow at that one. A dress with a hole seems a lot less important than a hole in her body. Maybe she needs to get her priorities straightened out. She stoops, reaching down to the whimpering Bandersnatch dying at her feet. It gives a cry of pain when the Red Queen punches her fist through its chest. Her hand comes back out, blood coating all the way to her elbow, a large heart in her hand. The beast doesn’t make another sound. She smiles gleefully at me as she licks the blood dripping from the heart. I watch in horror as the giant hole in her stomach begins to stitch itself back together, right before my eyes.

“What do we do?” I ask Hatter frantically.

The three Bandersnatch behind us are closing in, and the Hatter growls at them, the sound completely animal and terrifying. It doesn’t stop their advance at all.

His eyes meet mine, resolve in them as he spins and wraps his arms around me.

“Hell no! We are not giving up now!” I growl, raising the gun again.

I squeeze the trigger three more times, the bullets spreading and spinning as soon as they exit the barrel. The Red Queen grins as she dodges every single one of them, her movements too fast to follow with my eyes. One bullet hits another Bandersnatch, but the other two learned from their brethren and avoid them.

“Clara Bee,” the Hatter whispers into my neck, holding me tight. “My Clara Bee.”

The last two Bandersnatch spring towards us, and I close my eyes, clenching a fist in the Hatter’s jacket. I draw the short sword at my hip, intending to take one down with me even if I don’t want to see it. I’m not going down without a fight. I hope it’s painless, but I know that’s a silly thing to hope for in this circumstance.

A hiss echoes through the clearing, and I crinkle my eyebrows in confusion. When I open my eyes, blue smoke is billowing from a canister in front of us. The Red Queen shrieks in anger as four more clatter onto the ground. The Bandersnatch whimper and back away, afraid of the smoke touching them. I watch in wonder as the blue smoke completely hides us from view. The Hatter laughs with glee, picking me up and spinning me around.

“What’s going on?” I ask just as a cloaked figure breaks through the smoke, coming right for us.

Masculine hands reach out and grab both of ours, nearly ripping my arm from its socket again as he yanks us behind him. We go right past the last two Bandersnatch, snapping and snarling. They don’t seem to be able to see us, the smoke making them shake their heads in agitation. The sounds fade behind as we sprint through the trees. The stab in my side starts up again. My body is exhausted, but I keep pushing. We have a chance to survive. I won’t let my endurance be the reason we don’t make it.

“Hurry,” the cloaked figure ushers, the voice definitely that of a man’s. “We only have a few more minutes before the smoke clears.”

We stop abruptly at a large tree, the trunk at least double the size of a redwood. There are chunks carved out of the bark, and when the cloaked man begins to climb, I realize they’re hand holds, forming a ladder.

The Hatter lifts me off the ground and places me as high on the trunk as possible, urging me to follow the cloak above me. I don’t mention that I’m scared of heights as I begin to climb. It doesn’t seem that important at the moment. Just don’t look down. Don’t look down. I repeat that in my head all the way to the top where the man reaches down and pulls me over the edge. He does the same for the Hatter. We both collapse to the floor, our breaths ragged. I’m sure my heart will never beat the same again.

I look up as the man lowers his hood and do a double take. He’s handsome and definitely younger than me. Somewhere in his twenties I guess. His skin is blue, and I can see the tips of pointed ears peeking through long chestnut hair. His mouth is set in a grim line as he crosses his arms over his chest, making the muscles in his biceps bulge. His eyes are a brilliant turquoise. He doesn’t speak, and the Hatter doesn’t seem intimidated by him at all. Hatter begins to giggle, covering his eyes. The sounds bounces back and forth between sounding like laughter and sounding like sobs.

The entire inside of the tree looks like a house, all hewn into the wood itself. The walls are rough where they were carved, and there are doorways. The floors are covered with pillows and rugs. The only accessory I can see is some weird material hanging from the ceiling in a corner—it looks like some sort of sack— and a hookah standing in the middle of a pile of pillows.

From a doorway carved in the side, another man steps out. He walks with a cane, hunched over it as he shuffles inside. He’s clearly elderly, his skin the same blue as the younger man, though more weathered. His eyes are pure white, nothing inside the orbs. There’s no cloudy pupil to indicate blindness. He’s wearing nothing but some type of bright-blue loincloth, his chest covered with liver spots and odd symbols I’ve never seen before. A beard drops from his chin to his knees. It looks like moss, and there are all manner of bugs crawling through it, like he’s a living habitat.

Then he smiles, gaping holes where teeth are missing. My skin crawls.

“And who are you?” he rasps.