Dang. . . Already at Chapter 16. Amazing how Time can fly when he's having fun.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Lewis Carrol, Disney, and Tim Burton do.
Inspirational Song: "Sing" - My Chemical Romance
. . . . .
"And hurry! No time to waste!"
Turns out that Iracabeth could be fairly whiny, domineering, and irritable when things didn't run too smoothly in her favor. Hamish had expected as much, but he simply wasn't used to people ordering him around. And a woman, nonetheless. Really, how low had he stooped?
"Whatever it takes to get out of this miserable place," Hamish murmured.
He climbed out of the tunnels and quietly shut the trapdoor behind him, latching it tightly. Iracabeth had once screamed at him for slamming it. He squinted against the sudden brightness of the sun and vast red sand. Other than that, there was nothingness. A harsh and steaming breeze swept through his hair.
The tunnels turned out to be a sort of safe house for confused or lost travelers in the desert. They stretched for a good few miles or so with a stock room here and there for food and water. There was (somehow) a glistening mass of water underneath all this red sand of the desert to fetch drinking water from. Very few were allowed to bathe with it; the water was a limited supply, of course. Iracabeth allowed for Hamish to bathe once and for that he was grateful.
It was actually very crowded down in the tunnels. There were no other rooms other than the stock rooms. Everyone had to manage their own sleeping areas in one of the many burrows. There were probably a thousand people down there! Well, people probably isn't the correct word. They were more so creatures, the blasted things. Hamish had settled his sleeping area near the trapdoor, near Stayne and Iracabeth.
Grumbling to himself about the filth of his entire situation, Hamish set to work with his assignment. The lone, barred tree that nearly covered the trapdoor also acted as a home for a terribly frightening creature called a. . . a. . .
Jub Jub Bird! Really, how do they names these things?
Hamish had already, unluckily, run across multiple Jub Jub Birds in this Underland while traveling through the forests before crossing paths with Alice and her conspirators.
Hamish sighed. "Dimwitted, foolish girl, that Alice." Why wouldn't she see clearly? She thought that he was stubborn? At least he wasn't a killer! A criminal! A wicked being!
But was that truly Alice's title? Somehow, he still couldn't believe it. Or perhaps he simply didn't want to.
Shaking his head, Hamish tried to focus on his job. He strode the few paces to the tree, slowly. The Jub Jub Bird sat there with its eyes closed tightly. Was it asleep? Hamish wasn't too sure about simply shaking the thing awake with his own bare hands. He preferred to keep his life.
He noted a good-sized stone on the ground. A nice long-range wakeup call might just do the trick. Picking it up and weighing in his hands, Hamish took one more look at the unmoving bird. It looked prehistoric. It was a creature of many colors and its extensive beak was as sharp as a blade. Its wings were slightly put out, playing with the breeze. Its feathers were long and unkempt, as if it had fought through many battles in its life.
Hamish threw the stone at its head.
The bird opened its eyes and cocked its head, dodging the stone by an inch. It opened its beak and shrieked at Hamish, thirsty for blood. It leaned towards him. Hamish put his hands up and took a step back, feigning innocence. He pulled a parchment out of his coat's pocket. "Wait, err, Jub Jub Bird!" Yes, he felt like an idiot. But no, he did not wish to be eaten. "The Red Queen has need of you! She says it's time!" Iracabeth told him to tell the thing that, but could it actually understand?
The bird's shriek lowered to a fearsome, high-pitched growl. But alas, the creature stuck out its left leg, waiting for Hamish to make the next move.
Hamish slowly strode up to the thing, his eyes never leaving the beasts'. He untied the string rolling the parchment up and loosely tied it around the bird's leg. He rolled the letter back up and slipped it into the circle of string. Pulling the thread even tighter, Hamish swallowed. As soon as the job was done, Hamish tripped backwards with his nervousness and eagerness to get away from the creature.
The Jub Jub Bird chuckled at him! Hamish widened his eyes as the beast leaped from the branch, swooped down above Hamish (causing Hamish to smack himself in the face while trying to cover it), and flew away.
Hamish sighed and removed his hands from his clammy face-
To see two giant, green orbs of eyes!
Hamish screamed none too manly-like and stumbled backward, failing to catch himself. When he looked back up, the eyes were gone. "What in the. . ?"
Oh, who cares! The. . .whatever it was floating before him was gone and-
In front of his face again! Hamish gasped. This time it had a face! A furry, feline face with a very large grin! Hamish shut his eyes tightly for a few seconds, taking deep breaths. "Get a hold on yourself! The heat is making you hallucinate!" One more deep breath. "I mustn't be going mad!" He opened his eyes and sighed, relieved. He gave a soft chuckle at his illogical fear.
"Well, of course you're going mad. Or else you wouldn't be here, now would you?"
"Aah!" Hamish turned around to get a good look at the con artist, but he wasn't there. Widening his eyes, Hamish felt a tap on his shoulder. Slowly, Hamish turned around. He gasped. It was that cat from the dreaded Tea Party! What was he called. . . The Cheshire Cat! His huge eyes were bright and his grin was wide. He waved his paw at him.
"Hello, there."
Hamish screamed. "Get! Get! Go away, you stupid cat!"
The cruel thing chuckled. "Someone have a fear of us felines?" He turned his body round, keeping his head in place.
` Hamish groaned. "I just don't want to have to deal with your like anymore!"
Cheshire feigned being hurt. "Why, why. I thought we'd become so close, though. You know, friends through a friend?" Hamish stared blankly. "That particular friend perhaps being a maiden with long blonde hair and a wielder of muchness that no other can match?"
Hamish scoffed. "Why do you all think so highly of Alice?"
Cheshire raised one furry brow. "Because she saved us. All of us."
"Ha!" Hamish rolled his eyes, stubborn once again. "She acted cruelly and brutally to anyone who got in that disastrous White Queen's way."
The cat's grin faltered before flashing back to life. "Why speak badly of the White Queen, my dear lad?"
Hamish sneered. One of his more permanent expressions. "I don't take too kindly with murderers, sorry. But oh, go ahead if that's your sort of company." Hamish shook his head, a thought catching up to him. "You hold on!" His eyes flashed. "How'd you find me here? How'd you find us?"
Cheshire floated lazily pass his ear. "Us? Oh, by what do you mean?"
"You know what I mean!" Are all the creatures here able to frustrate him so easily? Hamish was starting to lose his temper. "Me, Iracabeth, and Stayne! The army!"
Cheshire was behind him and Hamish didn't bother with turning around, so he couldn't read his expression. His words sounded casual, but the cat's tone sounded different as he said, "An army? Why, what would you need an army for?"
Hamish's face was red with frustration. All of his past moments in the preposterous land were brimming and this cat was only fanning the fire. "For the battle tomorrow, you blasted cat! Now, leave me!"
Cheshire floated back into view quickly. His eyes were wide and his grin seemed more so plastered on rather than genuine. "A battle and army?"
. . .
Shit.
Hamish's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. In his anger he had mentioned the battle to an other-sider! He tried to cover up, but he knew it was useless. "A battle? What are you talking about, you funny, silly cat, you? And an army!" Hamish tried to laugh, but it died in his throat, feebly. He continued with his efforts. "Why in Underland would we have an army? I mean, me! Why would I need an army?" He failed to smile good-naturedly at the cat.
Cheshire's grin slowly increased in size until it could get no bigger. "Thank you for your time, dear lad. I believe we will be seeing each other again, sooner than expected, perhaps?" Without a sound, the cat faded into nothingness, the last thing visible being his green eyes.
When all of his from was gone, Hamish's expression revealed his true fear. He couldn't tell Iracabeth. He wouldn't tell Iracabeth.
Hamish sighed.
He had to tell Iracabeth.
. . . . .
Author/OP in me: A little shorter, but still pretty tight.
Rachel: . . . Did you seriously just say 'tight'?
Author/OP in me: I can say whatever I want!
Rachel: You're manic.
Author/OP in me: Coming from the girl who talks to herself 24/7 about anything and everything? Not tight.
Rachel: Chills, dawg. Whatevs.
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