They walked through the Dark Forest for three days before breaking out of its southern edge to be greeted immediately by the sands and dry heat of a desert. A river flowed past them, serving as a border between the forest and the desert.

Yet another strange thing about Wonderland was that there was no gentle transition from climate to climate. Wonderland was split into four elemental environments, each sitting right next to the other with no regard for their extreme differences.

In the north, no one lived. It was a barren tundra, constantly whipped by brutally cold winds that created killing blizzards.

The south, as mentioned, was blazing desert, the ground a mix of mostly deep sands broken by sharp fields of cooled lava and stretches of low, rocky hills. Dry mountains marked the eastern edge of the desert. 

This is where most of the outcast Black Decks lived. They managed to scrape out a living by memorizing where reliable water was and trading with each other. Most lived in small, nomadic groups. Mavros hated the heat and so didn't bother the Black Decks as much there.

Separating the tundra and the desert was a sprawling jungle to the west where it rained almost constantly, and to the east was a land comprised mostly of temperate grassland and leafy forests. This was where Heart Castle was and where Mad had lived his seven years in Wonderland.

The more temperate climate was similar to what Mad had grown up with in America as a boy in Colorado. For obvious reasons he wouldn't live in the western jungles and he had never truly enjoyed the desert, but had spent time as a boy there on some of his father's ranch holdings in New Mexico. So he was experienced enough in the ways of the desert to travel across them without getting himself killed.

Knowing how grueling traveling the desert was going to be, Mad suggested they stop early, rest, drink and prepare for what was to come. The others agreed and Maris set about putting together a camp fire and meal.

Mad unrolled his canvas gun bag as he did every time they stopped to make camp, and went over each of them, making sure they were loaded, clean and ready for use in case things got interesting.

He had collected as many guns as he could before something drastic happened and the Queen revoked his right to have them. When leaving, he had taken as many as he could carry, knowing it was unlikely that he would be able to return. What he was carrying was probably only about a quarter of what he actually owned.

This was accompanied by two other bags. One was for rations and also held extra clothes and other, smaller odds and ends. The other was a munitions bag. Mad had shoved as much ammunition as was possible into this one, wondering if it would even last him a month. These bags were fairly small. They had to be, otherwise there would be no way he could actually carry it all.

Going back to the gun bag, Mad looked with satisfaction at the five lever action rifles lined up side by side. They were Wonderland's version of Model 94 Winchesters and were just as reliable as the Real thing. Along with those, he had two shotguns, along with two extra 1911s and three extra revolvers. 

All of this plus two more revolvers at his waist and the 1911s he usually carried. Some might call this overkill, but Mad had been a Boy Scout. He believed in being prepared.

It was heavy. Heavier than he had been expecting, and he realized that he had become a bit lazy since his days fighting in the war. Mad just kept reminding himself that it all weighed no more than the machine gun and other gear he had lugged around in the heat and humidity of the Pacific. Actually, if he really though about it, it probably all weighed less.

At least, Mad thought as he rubbed at his sore shoulder. The one he'd been using to carry his bags, favoring the shoulder that had been shot. At least Wonderland doesn't have air like boiling soup that we have to trudge through.

'And you ain't gettin' shot at every couple hours.'

Mad grew still as a cheerful voice said this in the back of his mind. He tried to banish it, then listened, his heart pounding, to see if the voice would say anything more. 

It remained quiet, and he let out an uneasy breath that made Chesh look at him curiously. He just shook his head, not feeling any desire to explain his madness. 

This voice came around every now and then, especially when Mad was tired or stressed. Right now, he was very much both.

The voice belonged to Gene Grimmes. 

Gene had been Mad's best friend in the war. He'd been Mad's assistant gunner and the two had been practically joined at the hip. They shared foxholes, food, kept each other alive. They'd been closer than brothers. They had even discussed the possibility of Gene coming back West with him. Mad had joked that he would set the city boy up with a job on a real live cattle ranch so that both he and Gene would have a way to get on their feet once the war ended.

Then, Gene had been killed by a Japanese mortar and Mad had watched him die on some God-forsaken island in the middle of the ocean. He'd stayed behind when the order to pull back was given, trying to stop the bleeding. It didn't do any good. Gene had died almost instantly.

It had taken Mad a while to realize that Gene was dead and then it was too late. Surrounded by enemy soldiers, he had known he was a goner and hadn't really cared. Then, by some stroke of ill luck, a Japanese officer had decided that they would be able to get useful information out of some Marine grunt.

So, Mad had been captured, shot and beaten. The next day he was put on a transport to end up in a POW camp. 

He'd been hearing Gene's voice in his head since the day his best friend had died. It had been talking to him more and more often since he'd been taken to Wonderland.

Mad had started fearing that he was actually, for real going crazy. 

He put on a certain persona to avoid drawing attention to himself. He tried his best to talk in the nonsensical way of Wonderland's natives and projected an air of madness to keep others away. But he had never really felt crazy.

Every now and then, though, this would happen and he would begin to doubt that. Mad had begun to fear that Wonderland had taken him just to push him off the cliff of insanity and laugh as he fell.

What scared Mad the most, though, it wasn't hearing Gene's voice. What scared him the most was when he answered it. It happened sometimes when he wasn't paying attention.

Gene's voice would say something in that thick Philly accent, and he would answer, turning to look at his buddy. Except, Gene was never there, and Mad would break into a cold sweat, realizing that he was talking to the memory of a dead man.

"Mr. Hatter?" Alice's voice pulled him back from his memories, startling him back into the present. He looked up to find her staring at the guns. "Is all this really necessary?"

Mad scratched at his cheek, his thoughts still lingering on his possibly doubtful sanity. "Well, let's see." He started ticking reasons off on his fingers. "You and Dinah are Illegal Persons wanted dead by the crown. Not one but two Aces are on your tail. You all want to start some kind of rebellion. Oh, and I'm one of the three people in Wonderland who actually has guns. So you tell me."

"There's no need to be rude, Mr. Hatter," Alice huffed.

Mad sat back, stretching his legs out in front of him. He shook his head and said, "Not meaning to be, Miss Alice. It's just the truth." Looking at Maris he added, "How exactly do you expect to win this without guns any way?"

Maris didn't look up from what he was cooking. "We can use what we have."

Mad scoffed. "What's that? Rocks and spears?"

Looking up, Maris gave him a droll stare and said, "Her guards don't have guns either. You, Rakta and Tamsus are the only ones in all of Wonderland who are allowed to carry them. Rakta and Tamsus might be dangerous, but they aren't going to be able to take on three other Decks plus the Aunimalis. We're not the only ones who want to get rid of the Queen, you know."

Mad cast a disparaging look at Maris. "You can't seriously believe Mavros won't arm her own people? There's a reason she killed so many of the other Decks. She made the Hearts the biggest Deck in Wonderland. The Hearts outnumber the other three Decks at least four to one. And they will all gladly fight and die for her."

Maris looked down. "The other Decks have guns hidden away."

"This another rumor of yours, Mar? She took their guns. The Hearts are the only Deck that have guns. They've got more firepower, pure and simple. How are you supposed to beat that?" Mad was watching Maris as he said this, so was a little surprised when Alice spoke up.

"We," she said simply.

"What?" Mad asked, looking at her.

"I think you mean how are we supposed to beat that, Mr. Hatter." Alice sat, the skirt of her blue dress tucked neatly around her knees. Her blue eyes were serious, her lovely face grave as she looked at him.

Mad waved a dismissive hand. "Sure kid. But that still isn't going to make much of a difference when Mavros just rolls out her armies and their guns." 

He looked at Maris again, expecting answers from him so was surprised, again, when Alice supplied them.

"So we don't rely on numbers," she started, but was cut off by a laugh from Mad.

"I don't know about you, but that's how I was taught wars are won. More men, better trained men, more guns." With a shake of his head, he started to wonder if maybe he wasn't the crazy one after all. He wasn't sure if that was comforting or not. 

"Not if you just go after the Queen," Alice answered flatly.

There was a dead silence as everyone looked at her. She shiftd uncomfortably under the sudden scrutiny, but kept her chin up, her eyes traveling once around the group before settling on Mad, who was watching her with a narrow-eyed gaze.

"You mean assassination?" Cheshire asked thoughtfully.

Mad sat up, crossing his legs. "That still doesn't answer how we get to Mavros and past all of her guards. Who have more guns. More resources. More more."

Alice's mouth twisted at the last part of his statement. "I'm not certain that makes any sense, Mr. Hatter."

He tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his mouth. "Who said I need to make sense?" 

The smirk turned into a full blown grin when Alice threw up her hands in exasperation.

"I don't much care how we go about getting rid of Mavros," Alice began.

Cheshire piped up, "Then it doesn't matter much how you go about doing it." 

Mad laughed when Alice buried her face in her hands.

"Don't worry," Maris finally said, patting Alice's shoulder. "We have a plan." He shot a sharp look at Mad.

"Oh you do, do you?" Mad said, stretching back lazily. Addressing the sky, his arms behind his head, he said, "The thing about it though? The real kicker here, is that, no matter how well laid the plan. No matter how many times you go over it or how many angles you see, the plan is always gonna get screwed." Mad sat up quickly and looking at Alice said, "Sorry about the language, Miss Alice. It's been a long time since I've been in any sort of respectable company."

Alice appeared startled and a bit like she had tried to look in too many directions at once. Shaking her head, she said, "I just can't understand you, Mr. Hatter. Who exactly are you?"

Mad lay back down, face pensive. Seriously he said, "I used to know. Or I thought I knew. I think I was probably someone else before coming here. So I'm not really sure who I am now." He sighed. "I'm just one big puzzle, Miss Alice. To myself as much as anyone else."

"I always told you it does no good to think about who you were the day before, Mad," Chesh said from his perch in a great oak tree. "Who you were yesterday isn't the same person as you are today, so does it matter?"

Alice looked up at him. "Of course it does! We're defined by our actions, our words. The things we have done, do and believe make us who we are, good or bad."

Cheshire shook his head. "I don't believe that."

This struck Mad as funny and he laughed. "Well, yes. But that's because you're nuts, Chesh. Miss Alice is right. Who we've been is just as important as who we are. Or who we'll be."

Chesh turned his head and with a little sniff, said, "I'm not crazy. What's real for me is just different from what's real for you."

Mad shook his head, knowing there was no use in arguing with Cheshire. He would just run you around in circles. Turning to the others he said, "Drink a lot tonight. It might help you a little in the desert tomorrow."