Dorothy In the Land of Monsters

by Garten Gevedon

  “I’m twenty-four,” Ardie says.

  “You will be forever now,” Nick says.

  “Not if I can help it—I will kick this. I’m getting a cure from the Wizard,” Ardie says.

  “Ardie, do you need to eat?” I ask him.

  “No, I went hunting with Toto this morning. He’s a great help hunting,” Ardie says.

  “It’s what he’s bred for. He must have had a blast with you. I don’t hunt and he’s born to do it.”

  Toto barks in agreement. When I give Toto some chicken, I notice it’s almost gone. If it’s a long trip, we will need to get more food, and more water.

  “Is there anywhere to get clean water?”

  “There’s one clean stream nearby,” Nick says.

  “Good. I have to stop there before we go back to the road.”

  “We shall go after we eat.”

  Having water is a definite plus, but what worries me the most is that I am almost out of bread. Another meal for myself, Nick, and Toto will empty the bag. There’s trail mix from Boq left, chicken scraps for Toto, just enough bread for Nick and me, and that’s it. We need to find food somewhere. Maybe we’ll pass fruit trees along the way.

  We finish our food, and I pour water from one bottle into Toto’s bowl, give one to Nick and keep one for myself, and we drink the rest of what’s in the bottles.

  “The stream is close by and we must come back this way to get to the road,” Nick says.

  “I will stay here with Toto and hunt for a snack,” Ardie says and Toto jumps up hearing the word hunt.

  “All right, we’ll meet you back here soon,” I say and rub Toto’s head goodbye.

  Nick and I head out into the thick of the woods that surround his cabin.

  “You are trying to return home?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, I’m from a place nothing like this one.”

  “What is it like?”

  “People here call it the Civilized Realm,” I tell him.

  “Ah, yes. No vampires, werebeasts, zombies, or witches—sounds like a dream.”

  “Well, it is, and it isn’t. Life isn’t so bad there. Some people have it rough; others have a great setup. My life is neither—it’s not good, not bad, hard but not too hard, lonesome but not too lonesome. Life where I live is gray in every way, but when I go back, I will do different things, be different, go different places that are more colorful, have adventures, and I will help people in need, not just live for myself alone. That’s what I realized on the trip here, that I led a self-focused life.”

  “What would you do for others?”

  “Whatever people need, I’d try to help,” I say and shrug.

  “That sounds like a noble pursuit.”

  “What about you? When you get to the Emerald City, what do you want to do?”

  “Relax for a while, and I want to fall in love, but I also want to be of use, be helpful, like you do.”

  “Yeah, I want to fall in love too—I’ve never been in love,” I admit.

  “I am not sure I have either. When Nimmie Amee turned, I did not hesitate to kill her. Yes, she wasn’t who she was, but…”

  “You feel guilty?”

  “No, I don’t. That is why I am not so sure I loved her. She was beautiful, striking, but her woman kept us apart, and she could have been with me even though I did not have a house as large as she hoped for. But she didn’t. Instead, she said she would only be my wife if I could provide a large home and a more opulent, abundant lifestyle than I could provide for her. That is not love. Perhaps I loved her, and she did not love me.”

  He stops speaking and looks pensive as we walk, and I allow him the moment of quiet reflection, not saying a word.

  “Or perhaps I only found her to be beautiful,” he finally says. “I thought of her often before she became a vampire, but since they forced me to kill her, I only think of her when I think of how I have lost my heart, how I have hardened. For a long time, I have had no pleasant contact with anyone. This is the first nice interaction I have had in a long while.”

  “What were you like before the plague?”

  “A romantic,” he says with a wistful smile. “When I promised my mother I would find a wife, it became the thing I looked forward to most in my life. That feeling is what I want back, that hope for love… This is the stream.”

  A few feet away lies a sparkling stream of crystal-clear water. I hurry over and fill all the empty bottles then cap them tight before I drink from the stream and wash my face in it.

  “I think I’ll wash up,” I tell him.

  “Right, I will give you privacy,” he says with a nod and steps away down the stream behind a tree.

  No one is in sight, so I take off my blue and white checked blouse, my bra too, and wash under my arms, my neck, my face, behind my ears, then I take down my jeans to my knees and get clean, as clean as I can without being able to take off my pants and shoes, but I get clean nonetheless. Once I am dressed again, I head down the stream to let Nick know I am done. I pass the tree and see him in the stream, without his armor, washing up. He stands in the water up to his waist, shirtless, and I’m guessing naked, his chiseled muscles, his fair skin… When he notices me there, I turn around fast.

  “Sorry,” I say embarrassed, my back to him.

  “I am done,” he says, and I see his bare feet next to me.

  I turn and look at him and he is in only his underwear. Granted it looks like a bathing suit, but my eyes widen anyway. Holy crap, he is a beautiful man. A sultry, cocky grin spreads over his gorgeous face, and it’s clear he knows just what I’m thinking, and I can feel my cheeks flush. “We should get going. There is a lot of road to travel before nightfall,” he says as he gathers his clothing from the ground where he left it.

  “Oh… Uh, r-right,” I stutter, and he lets out a soft chuckle.

  “Did you wash?” he asks, unsure of whether I have.

  “Well… I can’t take off the boots. They’re stuck on my feet, so I washed important parts but that’s it.”

  “There are many leaves in your hair,” he says, amused.

  Right, I slept on a bed of leaves, and I didn’t bring a brush. Stupid.

  “Yeah, I have no comb and I forgot to bring soap,” I sigh.

  “Come here, I will help you,” he says, sets his clothes back down, and holds out his hand for me to take, so I do. He leads me to a rock at the bank of the stream.

  “Lie back and I will get into the water,” he says, so I lay back onto the rock as he walks into the stream. “Let your hair down,” he says, so I take out my ponytail and let it hang over the rock into the water. As the water rushes by, he combs through my hair with his fingers. I look up at him as he finger combs my hair, and he smiles at me, one corner of his mouth quirking up in the sexiest grin. “I will be your comb.”

  “Thanks.”

  There is something intimate about this moment—he’s half naked, combing his fingers though my hair in the rushing water, it feels so nice, and he’s smiling at me in a way that makes me think—

  “This is good practice for when I have a daughter,” he says, killing any romantic notion this moment may have had.

  Of course he sees me as a child. Perhaps I am one next to him. He is only two years older, but I suppose my life experience is far less than his. I’ve never been in love, and he was engaged. And I may not be a virgin, but that was just out of boredom. My boyfriend was the only halfway decent guy close by and there’s nothing else to do where I live.

  “There, now you are leaf free,” he tells me, and I sit up, my hair soaking wet but at least not tangled. The water is cold and pouring from my wet hair.

  When I stand, water drips all over me, soaking through my patch-covered shirt that is now almost see through and clinging to my skin, I bend over and ring my hair out with my hands as he gets out of the water.

  “Thanks,” I say as the water pours from the long twist I’ve created. “Ugh, I’m all wet,” I sigh. I wish I had thought to bring
a towel with me.

  Once I untwist my hair, I run my fingers through it. If I leave it out, it will dry faster, and I can put it in a ponytail or braid it once it’s dry. If I braid it now, it’ll hold too much water. I flip my hair to shake out any excess water, then I comb it out with my fingers, and he stands watching me wearing only his black shorts.

  “Why don’t you get dressed. We should get back,” I say, and he shakes his head.

  “Yes, right,” he says and puts on his pants, then his shirt, then his armor, piece after piece, until his armor covers all of him except his head. That piece he left back at the cabin. He straps the last of his axes to him when I hear a noise nearby.

  “Hey, did you hear that?” I ask.

  “Hear what?”

  “Well, what do we have here?” a male voice says.

  My head whips around to find a man with pale skin and an entourage of pale people who surround him. They wear old fancy clothing with leather and ruffles and curls atop their boots, and they carry black parasols. The man at the center smiles upon seeing us, revealing his fangs. Vampires.

  Nick pulls an axe from his chest and gives it to me, then he pulls two off his body for himself, ready to fight. They see this and laugh. There are about seven, men and women, and as they laugh their fangs twinkle at me. This is crazy because I should be afraid, but I’m not. And I think it’s the boots. Fearlessness washes over me, as if the boots are letting me know they cannot hurt me.

  “I can smell her blood from here. It’s so sweet. Oh, may I have her, please?” a redheaded female vampire asks the one in the middle who seems in charge.

  They all sound British or something. No one else speaks like that around here.

  “What’s with the phony accents?” I snark. “Is it part of the whole fancy act you’ve got going on?” I ask and the one in charge narrows his eyes at me.

  “You are a bold one. Perhaps I will turn you instead of feeding on you. You’ve got nice tits too,” he says, staring at my soaked chest, and I realize you can see right through my shirt thanks to my dripping wet hair.

  “Thanks. They’re not even done growing yet,” I say with a sassy shrug.

  “Mmmm, I like you,” he leers as he eyes me.

  “Oh? How amusing, because I don’t like you at all. Sorry, but you’re not my type,” I say and his eyes narrow.

  “I’m everyone’s type,” he says with a winsome grin.

  “I’m sure you think so,” I say and snort with an eye roll I can’t help.

  “My dear, is this tin can your boyfriend? Is that why you’re being coy?” he asks, and all his vampire friends laugh at his pathetic joke.

  “No, he thinks he’s my dad,” I say, and they titter. Nick looks at me wide-eyed, wondering what the hell I’m doing bantering with this guy, and perhaps a little for my remark about him.

  “What’s your name, pretty?” the main vampire guy asks me.

  “Dorothy. What’s yours?” I ask.

  “I’m—”

  “You know what? I don’t care,” I say, cutting him off.

  “Oh? Don’t you want to know the name of the one who will keep you as his slave, for his own pleasure?” he asks, sure of himself as they move in on us, getting closer and closer.

  “Yeah, that won’t be happening.”

  “Oh, but won’t it?” he menaces.

  “No, it won’t.”

  “Yes, it will. And you will like it. I am looking forward to tasting you, and I don’t mean your blood,” he says with a lascivious grin. Gross.

  “Ugh, please, you fool no one. Why don’t you go smoke a pole, knobgobbler? You know you want to.”

  “What? Whatever does that mean?” one of the vampire girls says with a high-pitched laugh.

  “Think about it, geniuses,” I say and their brows wrinkle in bewilderment. “I’ll give you a hint—consider that measly member of yours.”

  After a pensive moment, the main vampire’s eyes light up in recognition, and he huffs out a laugh.

  “Smoke a pole is fantastic. And knobgobbler, I like that. I’ll use that,” the main vampire guy says, and I laugh this time.

  “You’d have to survive this encounter to do that,” I say, and they bellow laughter.

  “Get ready,” Nick says under his breath.

  Ready to fight, my boots jump into action covering me head to toe, silver spikes shooting from my feet, elbows, knees and hands. As their eyes widen, I attack the main guy first, swinging my axe at his throat then roundhouse kicking his head right off his neck. The redhead girl screams as I impale her with the spike in my fist, right through her heart. She falls over dead.

  Nick swings his axe at the one coming after him and I take out the others, two at a time, my suit of silver moving me in ways I can only imagine. One grabs hold of me from behind and I turn and climb up his body before wrapping my legs around his chest. Long silver stakes shoot out of my inner thighs, impaling him through the heart. When he falls to the ground, I land with ease on my feet.

  Nick has killed one by chopping off its head, but he is now fighting with another, exchanging blows. I charge over and kick at its neck, slicing its throat straight across with the blade at my toe. Then he spins and kicks its head right off its body, just like I did the first vampire. Cool move. With a surprised expression, the vampire’s head falls to the floor just before his body drops. Now they’re all dead, but I suppose they were before, or they were undead rather. Now they are all no longer undead, but dead for good, as Gayelette would say.

  Nick steps back and holsters his axes. I hand him the axe he lent me, and he takes it, staring at me stunned as the silver armor shrinks back into the boots stuck onto my feet. I suppose it’s a good thing they are—they would have been off as I washed in the stream. There’s an upside to everything, I guess.

  “Should we move them away from the stream, so they don’t contaminate the water?”

  “When the sunlight hits them—” he begins as a cloud passes overhead and direct sunlight hits their bodies and burns them to ash on contact.

  “That’s convenient.”

  We gather the water bottles we filled and walk back, neither of us saying much, but then he speaks.

  “It’s a good thing those boots don’t come off,” he says.

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” I say with a laugh. “And it’s strange, but I think they make me more confident, and perhaps more callous. I feel no guilt for that, which surprises me. When I first arrived, Gayelette’s lack of concern for the dead Vampire Witch appalled me, and I had a hard time knowing I had killed her, even if she was a vampire, but now, for some odd reason, I feel nothing at all other than satisfied to have killed them all so fast.”

  “What did you mean when you said I think I’m your dad?” he asks me, confused by my remark.

  “Uh, you said I was like your daughter when you were helping me get the leaves out of my hair,” I say, and he looks confused.

  “I only meant…” he sighs.

  “For your information, I’m not that much younger than you, but I guess I don’t have as much life experience. I’m still in school, I haven’t been engaged, or been in love, haven’t set out to murder anyone before just now, so I guess I get it,” I say and shrug.

  “I didn’t mean I think you are like my daughter. I only meant I would know what to do if I had to wash a girl’s hair…” he says and sighs. “Although I see how it may have sounded that way and I hope I didn’t offend.”

  “I think I’ll live.”

  “Good.”

  With that, we head back to the cabin in silence.

  6

  A Civilized Education for the Axeman

  When we returned to the cabin, Ardie and Toto had caught a wild turkey. After taking its head for the brains, Ardie handed the turkey over to Nick and me to prepare for roasting. While I defeathered the bird, Nick chopped firewood and picked apples from an apple tree nearby. When he returned, he gutted the bird, and I cut a few apples to stuff the ca
rcass with. Then we put the giblets into Toto’s dish to make gravy. Once we built the fire, we skewered the turkey for roasting, and now every half hour, we flip the bird over.

  Ardie was kind enough to lend me his jacket to cover my wet blouse. He was sure Nick was ogling me, but Nick did not look my way once. When I told Ardie what Nick said by the stream, explaining that Nick also saw me as a child, he relaxed but only a little. Even though the protectiveness Ardie displays is thoughtful, it’s also irritating. Before discovering the abilities these boots endow me with, I may have needed a protector, but the boots give me a strength, agility, and confidence I never had before. Sharp tongued and assured, I had no fear when confronted with vampires, and I spoke to them in a way I have never spoken to anyone in my life. After my reaction to killing the Vampire Witch of the East, it surprises me how unfazed I was when I killed those vampires, but the longer I wear the boots, the more they seem to assure me of my strength, a strength I am not sure was in me before coming to this monstrous land.

  “Sorry, I cannot stand it any longer,” says Ardie cowering, inching away from the fire. “I must go inside.”

  When he stands, Toto rises to go too. Looks like Toto has a new best friend.

  “Why are you afraid of fire?” I ask.

  “It came with the zombiism.”

  “Strange,” Nick says.

  “Perhaps it is because fire is the only thing that can kill me,” Ardie says as they head toward the cabin.

  When Ardie goes inside with Toto and closes the door, Nick turns and looks at me as though he wants to say something but is hesitant.

  “What?” I ask, wondering what his apprehension is about.

  “Are you in a terrible hurry to get home?”

  “Well, I’d like to let my family know I’m alive as soon as possible.”

  “Your mother and father?”

  “No, my aunt and uncle. My parents are dead,” I say, heavyhearted.

  “Oh, I am sorry. How did they die?”

  “A car accident.”

  “Car?”

  “A car is a vehicle. A machine with wheels that takes people from one place to another much faster than going on foot. Another person in another larger vehicle fell asleep while operating it and plowed into them on a highway—a road just for those kinds of vehicles to travel at high speeds. He died too, the one who killed them. They don’t know for sure he was asleep, but they assumed so because he had been driving a long time without rest. That man left behind a family too—a wife and two children.”