Page 39 of Locked in Wonderland

I thought that even before the lights snapped back on to reveal an empty corridor. I should have been relieved that there was no one there, given my trousers were still around my ankles. I hauled them up and fastened them with fingers that weren’t entirely steady. Then I searched the walls for hidden cameras.

If they existed, they were well-concealed. Pinhole lenses, maybe. Impossible to spot without knowing exactly where to look. I didn’t hang around to inspect it. If I’d been filmed again, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

In the light, the corridors looked far less maze-like. A few minutes of searching brought me to a door. I took a deep breath before pushing it open.

There could be anything on the other side.

Dahlia.

An orgy.

Tom Cheshire grinning at me.

Or, knowing my luck, all three at once.

Chapter Fourteen

The door led outside to a garden. It was empty of people, containing only a fountain, flowerbeds, and a solitary bench. Daylight bathed everything in a pale glow, the night having passed completely, which explained why I was so tired.

It had been over twenty-four hours since I’d last slept. I wasn’t counting the brief spell of unconsciousness Percy and Lola had induced by artificial means. Considering everything that had happened during those hours, it was no wonder I was running on empty.

Could I sleep here?

Something told me that wouldn’t be safe, that I’d end up back in Dahlia’s clutches if I did, with even more debts to pay.

A glint of something snagged my attention as I passed the bench.

A coin.

It looked identical to the first one.

After a quick glance around to make sure nobody was watching, I slipped it into my pocket. It would be stupid to leave it lying there.

The path through the garden led back to the main street. Last night it had been heaving.

This morning… Well, it was still heaving. When did people here sleep? More importantly, where did they sleep? I hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely like a hotel. Even if there were such a thing, I doubted I could afford it. Which left me with only one option: find somewhere safe, quiet, and preferably free.

I walked with no actual destination in mind, the crowds gradually thinning and the noise fading. Before long, neon lights gave way to rundown shacks and flickering streetlamps, and cleanliness gave way to neglect and grime.

That’s when it clicked. This was where the unfortunates lived. The area Tom Cheshire had warned me to avoid. Oops. Too late. How much worse could it get, though?

A malnourished dog slunk out from behind an overflowing dustbin, and we eyed each other warily. “I’m a friend,” I said, “and I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t bite me.”

My voice was still fucked. Thanks for that mysterious stranger. Next time you fuck someone’s throat, maybe try being a little gentler.

I held my breath when the dog sniffed the air. Only when it turned away and wandered off did I release it. Funny how not being attacked by a dog had become a blessing.

All the houses were dark and still. Were they empty? Or were the occupants simply asleep? If they were empty, I could find my way inside and grab a few precious hours of sleep before resuming my search for Warren.

I peered through the window of a house without curtains, but the glass was too grimy to make out anything more than the dark outline of furniture. Furniture suggested occupancy, so I moved on.

More houses.

A rat.

No, make that three rats.

A not-so-pleasant smell, likely coming from either the rats or the piles of rubbish littering the street. How could two places so close together be so different? It was as if all of Wonderland’s detritus had been swept into this one place and forgotten.