“We do.”
“For the feast last night, we had an animal we call a lamb.”
“I know, we have those too.”
“Perhaps I would like the civilized realm.”
“Maybe,” I say with a shrug.
“What is wrong with it?” his wife asks me.
“I was very bored there,” I admit.
“Here there is not much possibility for that,” she says.
Perhaps I should be careful what I wish for because despite the colorless nature of my life in Kansas, I’d rather be there than here. But it is nice here with General Boq, with such beautiful surroundings. As I travel to the City of Emeralds though, I’m bound to come across these monsters everyone seems so afraid of. There is blood everywhere.
“How far is it to the City of Emeralds?” I ask them.
“I do not know,” answers Boq, “for I have never been there. Better for people to keep away from Oz unless they have business with him. It is a long way to the Emerald City, and it will take you many days. Although the country here is rich and pleasant, you must pass through rough and dangerous places, riddled with the bitten, werebeasts, and the undead before you reach the end of your journey.”
However worrisome that is, if I want to get back to Kansas, I have no choice. I have a bag of weapons, not that I know how to wield them, or how to fight anyone much as well a vampire, or a werewolf, or a zombie of all things, but at least I have them. It seems that only the Great Oz can help Toto and me get back to Kansas, and he is in the City of Emeralds, so I will be courageous, and I resolve not to turn back.
As I gather my bag of weapons, Boq and his wife pack me a lunch to bring along for Toto and myself, which I put in my bag, and we bid our new friends goodbye.
“Boq, thank you so much, and if I find the way to the civilized realm, I will try to get you directions,” I tell him, and he laughs.
“Well, I would love to come and visit someday.”
“I’d love that too,” I tell him, and again, Toto and I start along the bloody road of yellow brick.
Past General Boq’s house there is only farmland and fields of varying overgrown crops, but now, perhaps because I killed the Vampire Witch, I see Munchkins working the land. All of them bow at the sight of me, and I wave and say hi, but after a while, fewer people are around.
After about five miles of brisk walking, I stop to eat the lunch General Boq gave Toto and me, so I take out Toto’s dish and pour in some water from my bottle, keeping the rest for myself. Boq’s cook prepared me a roast chicken with potatoes, carrots, and onions while they gave Toto a container of leftover lamb scraps. As I open it, Toto jumps for joy, his bloodhound nose smelling what awaits him. When I put it out for him, he gobbles away.
Beside the road is a fence that encircles a great cornfield, so to get a better view of anyone who may come our way, I climb to the top and sit on it. With Toto at my feet, I eat my lunch. Twenty feet away, a Scarecrow stands high on a wooden cross to keep the birds from the ripe corn, and I bet the cross keeps the vampires away too.
As I eat my delicious lunch, I lean my chin upon my hand and gaze at the Scarecrow, raised above the stalks of corn with the pole stuck up its back. The more I look at it, the more I realize it looks very much like a man, an actual man. In an old, pointed blue hat that had to have belonged to some Munchkin, the Scarecrow looks like a tall man unlike most of the Munchkins I’ve met. Like most people around here, it wears a blue outfit, but it’s worn and faded with tears and holes that fray on the edges. On its feet are old boots with blue tops, like the Munchkin men with Gayelette, which are also very similar to the boots pretty much every man wears around here.
As I peer at it, examine it, the eyes blink, startling me, and I gasp. My eyes must be playing tricks on me. I rub them and look at it again and it nods its head.
“Wait here, Toto,” I say, and he pays me no mind, chowing down on what’s left of his lamb.
I jump off the fence and walk up to it.
“Good day,” says what I thought was a Scarecrow, in a rather husky voice.
“You speak?”
“Yes, I do,” it answers. “How do you do?”
“Uh, I’m well, thank you. How are you doing?”
“I’m not feeling well,” he says, with a smile, “for it is very tedious being nailed up here all night and day.”
“You can’t get down on your own?”
“No, some vampires nailed me to it. If you could please take the nails out, I shall be obliged to you.”
“Why didn’t the vampires just drink your blood, or turn you?”
Something is up with this guy. The closer I look at him the more I see how strange he is. He looks like a man, but his skin is grayish and his cuts are black.
“I am a zombie. I did it when the plague hit. Preventative measures. Worst mistake I ever made,” he says, and sighs.
“You’re a zombie?” I ask, backing up.
“I don’t eat people, don’t worry. Well, people’s brains. All I eat now is brains, but I stick to animals. The hunger is relentless. All I think about is brains, brains, brains, and my appetite for them is ever increasing. All I want all the time is brains, and the thought runs in my head all day and night. Brains, brains, brains, I need brains. It’s terrible.”
“If I take you down, you won’t try to eat my brains?” I ask, still very wary of him.
“No, I promise you I would never, could never do such a deplorable thing. Most of us who chose this route do not eat the brains of people. Harming people was what we were trying to avoid. If a vampire bites you and does not drain you, then you hurt people. If you are alive, a vampire will bite you. But if you are an undead, as I am, the bitten cannot bite you and survive which is why we do it. Although I wish I had done something else. Perhaps becoming a werebeast would have at least given me a better chance at a normal life. Yes, you become hybridized with an animal and can become wild and ravenous, but if you want to remain safe against a vampire, it helps and is far better than being an undead. And I dare say it is far better than a relentless need to eat brains.”
“What about my dog, Toto? You won’t try to eat his brains either?”
“I have never seen a Toto but no, I will not. I swear it.”
“If you do, I have a bag full of weapons and won’t hesitate to use them,” I warn, and he smiles.
“I give you my word.”
Even though he seems nice enough, it could all be an act, a trap to lure me close enough to bite me. But I also promised myself I would be more helpful to others and if he isn’t lying, he needs the help. So, I go to my bag and find a silver hammer, bring it over to him, and as I pry one nail from one of his hands, he sighs with relief. When I remove them from his boots, he falls, dangling by just one hand. In haste, I pry the nail out of his other hand and his body drops to the ground. When he picks himself up his movements are jelly-like, I assume because he’s been up there a while, but he moves around as best he can, working his joints, shaking himself out. Although I shouldn’t laugh, it’s funny to watch, and I giggle. I can’t help it.
“Oh, thank you very much,” he says and smiles. “I feel like a new man. Who are you?” he asks as he stretches himself out with a loud groan. “And where are you going?”
“My name is Dorothy, and I’m going to the City of Emeralds to ask the Great Wizard to send me back to Kansas.”
“The Emerald City? That’s the Vampire Free Zone. Oh, it’s supposed to be beautiful, and I hear they have many undead like me who live there, and an abundant supply of brains for my kind,” he says with a wistful swoon.
“There is?” Something about that unnerves me.
“Yes. What a relief it would be to eat whenever I please without having to hunt. More than that though, what I want is to rid myself of this state. There is a rumor that the Great and Terrifying Wizard has cured some of us, but they had to pay a high price and I have little. Before the plague hit and I made the mistake of becoming a zombie
, I worked security at this farm and although it paid well enough, I am not a rich man. If I go to the Emerald City with you, do you think the Great and Terrifying Wizard would give me the cure, or perhaps allow me some of their supply of brains?”
“Gosh, I have no clue. But you can come with me, and if the wizard won’t give you any cure, or any brains, you’ll be no worse off than you are now.”
“True. Anything would be better than this, and if it doesn’t work out, I am no worse off than I am now considering this is about as bad as it gets.”
“If you come with me, I will ask Oz to do all he can for you, and I have these boots everyone seems to think make me important, so maybe he’ll listen.”
“Oh, thank you.”
After helping him over the fence, I put away the other half of my unfinished lunch and the silver hammer, then we all walk back to the road, starting along the path of blood-stained yellow brick for the Emerald City.
Toto doesn’t like the Zombie at first. He smells around the undead man and growls at him.
“Don’t mind Toto,” I tell him. “He never bites.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid. He can’t hurt me. But if he bites me, he’ll become undead too, so it’s in his best interest not to.”
Yeesh, I hope Toto doesn’t get any funny ideas.
“I cannot get tired, so please, allow me to carry that bag for you. I shall not mind it.”
As he takes up my bag, throwing it over his shoulder as we walk along, he leans in and says, “Let me tell you a secret. Only one thing in the world scares me now that I am an undead.”
“The vampires who nailed you up on that cross?”
“No,” answers the Zombie; “It is fire.”
4
The Blood-Soaked Road Through the Forest of Deadly Things
After a few hours of walking, the road becomes rough with cracked, crumbling bricks and gaping holes. Overgrown roots of surrounding trees pushed through from beneath the road, severing entire sections, lifting them three and four feet before breaking the road altogether. The terrain grows so difficult that the Zombie stumbles over the uneven, bloody yellow bricks. Toto jumps across and I walk around, but the Zombie drags straight ahead, stepping into the holes and falling prostrate on the hard bricks. It never hurts him, and each time he falls I help him up, setting him on his feet again while he joins me in laughing at his ungainliness.
The farms we pass are less and less well cared for. There are fewer houses and fewer fruit trees, and the farther we go the scarier and more dismal the country becomes.
At sunset we sit down by the roadside, near a little bloody brook, and I open my bag and take out the bread. When I offer a piece to the Zombie, he refuses.
“No, I can’t eat regular food anymore,” he sighs, “But I’ll go hunt. I’ll be right back,” he says and drags off into the dark forest that surrounds us. I feed Toto some chicken and take some for myself along with the roasted vegetables I didn’t eat earlier. Halfway through my meal the Zombie returns with some bird heads, ripped from their bodies. He sits across from me, rips open their skulls with his bare hands and sucks out their brains, one after the other.
“Bird brains for dinner,” he says with a smile.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I nod and chuckle as I go on eating my bread.
“Tell me something about yourself and the country you came from,” says the Zombie as he finishes his dinner.
“The place I come from people here call the Civilized Country or the Civilized Realm, although I’m not sure how civilized it is. There are no zombies or witches or vampires or werebeasts or things like that though. That’s the biggest plus. Otherwise, I kind of hated where I lived, the life I lived.”
“Kansas?” he clarifies.
“Yeah, where I lived it was all gray. Everything about my life there was gray. Gray skies, gray land, gray people, gray life,” I sigh.
“Gray like silver, like your boots?”
“No. No shimmer or sparkle, nothing like that. The most exciting thing that’s happened since I moved to Kansas was the cyclone that brought me here. Aside from all the blood, this place is a lot nicer, far prettier than Kansas. At least where I lived. There are nicer places in the realm I’m from, but I haven’t been to any of them. I want to go though. I want to do so many things.”
“Like what?”
“Live life to the fullest, and be selfless, do selfless things, things that are good for everyone, not just me. On my ride over here, I realized that’s something I need to focus on, and the first thing that happens when I land is that I kill a Vampire Witch and steal her boots,” I sigh.
“Um, wait, what was that last part?”
“It was an accident. I killed the Vampire Witch of the East, and when she fizzled away to ash, her silver boots appeared on my feet. Gayelette, she’s a slayer witch from the North, she seemed upset about that. She wanted them. I tried to take them off, but I couldn’t. They’re stuck on.”
“Huh, I wonder what that’s about,” he contemplates.
“Maybe the wizard will know what to do about it.”
“I don’t understand why you wish to leave this beautiful realm to go back to the dry, gray place you call Kansas. Why don’t you stay? Once you get to the Vampire Free Zone, you will be safe from vampires, and I hear Emerald City is a beautiful city.”
“Well, I guess, no matter how dreary and gray our homes are, we civilized, living people would rather live there than in any other place, however beautiful these other places may be. It must be true what they say—there’s no place like home.”
The Zombie sighs.
“For the Civilized Realm it’s a good thing that’s true, because you might all live in the beautiful places, and then Kansas would have no people at all. It is fortunate for Kansas that it is in a Civilized Country.”
“So, what about you? What’s your story?”
“Oh, I made a terrible mistake, becoming a zombie. I thought I was making a smart decision. The plague hit and vampires turned or feasted on everyone around me. I was a watchman, a guard for the farm where you found me. I made sure the farm stayed safe and had no thieves, man or animal alike. Security was my specialty. But I couldn’t be effective at my job anymore because of the werebeasts in particular, for they were the ones who breached security at my farm more and more. Werebeasts became braver being more ferocious than any man or animal. I had to fear being bitten and dealing with much more ferocious men and animals than ever before. Many people were taking to zombiism to prevent the plague and to combat the werebeasts, and I met a spice salesman who sold me on the idea.”
“A spice salesman?”
“A spice from a far-off country causes zombiism. The spice salesman told me there was a cure and when the plague was over, I could return to my living state, but it was false advertising. That is what they have told me since. One person told me that the Great and Terrifying Wizard of Oz has the cure the spice salesman spoke of, so this trip could be just what I need. The salesman was very convincing, and I did not understand what it would be like. Vampires do not bite me, for they will die for good if they do, and the whole point of being a vampire is to be immortal, drinking the life blood of other beings for sustenance, but being a zombie is no better. The only difference is that I have no pain, only one fear, and I eat brains instead of drinking blood. I am undead now and it is terrible. I never sleep, never dream. Oh, I miss my dreams. And I had many good dreams. So now instead of sleep and dreams, I have a relentless hunger for brains. If I eat a brain, I absorb the thoughts and knowledge of the being whose brains I have eaten. That is quite a strange experience, similar to having dreams, but not as pleasant in most cases. The thoughts of animals are not much to speak of, aside from pigs. Pigs are intelligent. That was surprising to discover.”
“There’s a pet pig on a neighboring farm where I live, and his owner swears it can read books,” I tell him with a laugh.
“I believe it,” he nods.
“Perh
aps now I do too, after hearing how intelligent they are from you.”
“It makes it hard for me to eat their brains, knowing how smart they are. I prefer to eat less intelligent animals, like birds with tiny brains. Bird brains are a typical meal for me. Although the taste is terrible, I feel far less guilty about it. Ugh, I hate being a zombie.”
“What happened that got you nailed to that pole?”
“Some vampires were passing by the farm where I work and wanted to feed on me, thinking I was a living man, but when they came close enough and smelled I was an undead, they had fun with me instead. I fought them, damaged a few, but there were too many of them to overcome alone. One got a hold of me and they nailed me up there. They stuck me up there yesterday. I’m glad you came by.”
“Me too. It’s nice to have someone to talk to,” I admit, and he smiles.
“It is, and I can help to protect you on the journey. I am quite an experienced fighter, well trained. Before the plague, I was great at my job.”
“I appreciate it. Even though I have this bag of weapons, I do not know how to wield them at all.”
“May I see?” he asks and I open the bag to show him all I have. “Where did you get it all?” he asks, amazed at everything inside.
“The Witch of the North, Gayelette, gave it all to me for the journey.”
“This is very lucky. It will be helpful. We should keep them strapped to us. There are holsters in here,” he says and pulls out leather straps.
“That’s smart,” I agree and groan a yawn.
“We should find a place for you to rest for the night. In the memories of two of the birds brains I ate, I saw there is a cottage that looks abandoned off the yellow brick road where it leads into the forest. Perhaps that would be a good place,” he says, and I should rest soon. “I can keep watch while you and Toto sleep. Then we can continue in the morning when you wake,” he says and stands, so I close up the bag, put it on my shoulder, and he leads us to the cottage he saw.
There are no fences at all by the roadside now. Through rough and untilled land, the road leads us into a great forest where the trees grow so big and close together that their branches meet over the road of blood-soaked yellow brick shutting out the daylight, and the road grows dark.
Dorothy In the Land of Monsters Page 4
