Alice, Last of the Beating Hearts
There came a crack like thunder.
A rabbit hole, launched from its orbital warren, streaked down through the clouds. It hung in the air like a frozen fork of lightning. Beneath the helmet that Hatter had made for her, Alice felt the root ends of her hair tingle from the electrical change that accompanied its arrival. What appeared to be a stuffed white rabbit tumbled earthward. Payload delivered, the hole rapidly lost its integrity and dissolved into a glimmering fragment that dissipated on the wind.
Alice crouched low amongst the ruins as the rabbit sniffed the air, internal sensors trying to get a fix on her location. She clutched her vorpal sword. The pistons on the rabbit’s spring-loaded flanks gave a venomous hiss as it launched itself into a powerful leap.
Author David Turnbull |
It landed not far from her on an ivy-strangled hillock of fallen masonry, infrared eyes glowing red as it scanned for signs of body heat. Above its white head, on what was left of a concrete wall, a faded and tattered poster depicted a bottle of amber liquid, alongside the legendary Drink Mead®.
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