Again, I scan the woods, my vision sharp and focused, and in the distance through the trees, I see Nick and a group of around twenty zombies. He’s fighting hard, throwing them off of him, and he’s smart enough to create a distance between him and as many of the zombies as he can. In a single whirling motion, Nick strikes at the necks of two zombies with an axe in each hand, taking them out.
I pore over the forest for more and find I can see a distance far greater than my near-sighted eyes ever could before the boots. I examine the treetops and see no more undead, so I speed toward Nick.
When I draw near I jump into the fray. From the back of the group, I attack, taking out five at once, and soon enough all but one remains. Nick strikes the zombie at its neck and its head falls onto the pile of zombie parts. He’s harrowed, panting behind his helmet that reveals none of his face, and that design makes a lot more sense now. It looks like he killed at least fifteen before I got here. My armor opens up, revealing my face, and I smile at him.
“Hey, nice work,” I say.
“There are others,” he says, breathing heavy but ready to keep fighting. I inspect the woods again, the treetops, and there are none. If there were, they got away, but they move so slow I doubt they did. I think it’s safe to say they are all dead for good.
“Nah, we’re fine, I got them all.”
He lifts his hand to his helmet and reaches inside. Then the front of his helmet slides open with the press of a switch and raises an eyebrow of disbelief at me.
“I can see crazy far away now thanks to the boots. There aren’t any zombies left in these woods,” I tell him as we start back toward the road.
“Lucky for you that you have those boots,” he smirks at me as though I’d be dead without them, and I want to take offense, but he’s right—I would be so dead by now without these boots.
“No kidding,” I say, and a broad grin takes over his full lips.
“How far can you see?”
“A few miles at least. Crazy, right?”
“Miles?”
“Oh, um… I can see pretty far.”
With a quizzical head tilt, he asks, “Ardie and Toto, do you see them? Are they safe?”
I search the woods and spot Ardie and Toto hiding behind a tree. I can see right through the trunk, like I have X-ray vision.
“Yeah, they’re hiding behind a tree trunk and I can see right through it. These boots are incredible.”
“You are incredible,” he says, and the way he says it, like he means it, makes my heart jump and my cheeks blush.
“Yeah, I’m all right,” I shrug, dorking out, and I instantly kick myself for lacking any sort of cool factor with this guy. As I avert my eyes I hear him chuckle at me, and I’m officially embarrassed.
We head back to Ardie and Toto in silence, and on the way, I pick up my flamethrower from the ground where I left it. After around fifteen minutes of walking, we arrive at the tree where they hide. Ardie lets out a groan of relief as he tosses me the bag of weapons, and I put the flamethrower back in the bag.
“Keep that thing away from me,” Ardie says with a shiver, and I notice the arrows that once impaled him lie at his feet. “Did you burn them all?”
“No, we beheaded them. I sliced some in two,” I tell him.
“The bodies, where are they?”
“The woods, there,” I say, and point in the direction we came.
“You need to burn them.”
“Why?” Nick asks.
“They will not be dead until you do. If their bodies can get back to their heads, they can reattach them.”
“Gross,” I say, shuddering as I envision that scene.
“It will take time for them to regain mobility. The count—how many were there?”
“I took out at least fifty or sixty,” I say and Ardie’s eyes widen.
“And I around thirty, so at least eighty,” Nick says.
“They must be a company from the Gillikin Army gone rogue, as their uniforms would suggest.”
“Gillikin Army?” I ask.
“Yes,” Nick says. “Gillikin Country is the territory of the Zombie Witch Mombi. Zombiism infected almost all of Gillikin Country, either with the spice or in attacks. They reached a treaty when the Wizard arrived. Some battalions of the Gillikin Army went rogue when the treaty stopped them from going into surrounding countries to feed. With all of Gillikin turned, it forced them to eat the brains of livestock instead of the brains of humans.”
“Yuck,” I say and shudder.
“Their blood is infectious. We cannot leave them in the woods. Burn them,” Ardie says.
“But the woods will burn,” Nick says.
“If you’d rather we drag out all eighty bodies to the road and burn them there, the fire may not spread then, but we could be here for a long time,” Ardie says and Nick sighs. There’s something sweet about the fact he cares for the trees and the animals in these woods. “Listen, I understand your concern. I hate fire. I hate it. But zombies fill these woods. There are even more than what the two of you just fought, and the animals will know to run if the fire spreads.”
“The trees can’t run away,” Nick says.
“Says the man who chopped them down to make his living,” Ardie says and scoffs.
“We grew them to chop them down. We didn’t chop down all the forest,” Nick points out in his defense.
“Do you want to bring the bodies into the road? It is dangerous for you, for Dorothy, and for Toto to come into contact with the blood,” Ardie points out, and Nick sighs again. “We cannot just leave them there. I would guess their blood has already infected the surrounding plants. It will infect the trees, and they will infect the bugs, the birds, the animals, and this forest will end up just like Gillikin.”
A vision of a zombie forest enters my mind, where all the trees, animals, birds, and insects are undead. A bite from a zombie bug, spreading zombiism that way, terrifies me. We have to burn it.
“Let’s burn it down,” Nick says, heavyhearted.
Ardie nods and we walk to the edge of the woods.
“I will wait here with Toto. If it spreads, we will need to move fast to stay in front of the fire. Once you ignite them all, hurry back to the road,” Ardie says.
I nod and turn to Nick, handing him the bag of weapons before I remove the flamethrower.
“I should do this on my own. These boots help me move fast and there’s only one flamethrower. Show me where you left the bodies you took out and then hurry back here.”
“They are right where we were when you found me.”
“Good. Stay here. I’ll be back.”
“Perhaps I should be the one—”
“No, I got this. Wait here. Watch Toto. I’ll be back,” I say and speed into the woods to the places where I took out the ones farthest away and then I’ll work my way back.
When I arrive, their headless bodies are already moving, twitching, and Ardie was right—soon enough they’d be searching for their heads. The surrounding trees are blackening already. I pull the trigger on the flamethrower and a stream of violent fire shoots from its tip. When I light the zombies up, the dry woods light up with them, and I take off toward the next group of bodies.
As I speed through the forest, I release my flamethrower onto each headless body and dismembered head I come across while hurrying to the pile of zombies that almost killed me. I’m startled to see how many there were—far over fifty. They must have been a company of over a hundred.
Already reaching out, trying to move and find their other parts, I know I need to move fast. The flames behind me are tearing through the blackening woods. The bodies here are already moving too well and could run away if I leave nature to do it for me, so I pull the trigger.
A ferocious torrent of flames bursts forth igniting the pile of undead, decapitated bodies that twitch as they burn, their zombie heads waking up to scream shrill, wailing shrieks as they die for good. The fire spreads fast to the trees and bushes, and when I
am sure they are all burning, I sprint to the ones I took out with Nick.
As I approach, I release the flames onto their twitching, oozing body parts, and their wailing shrieks are unnerving, sending shivers down my spine. Once they are ablaze, I hurry away to find the fire is proliferating far faster through the dry woods than I expected, and the brutal inferno outspreads with such speed, it’s as though the flames are chasing me back to the road. I take off, running as fast as I can, and as I do, I yell to Ardie.
“Go! I’ll catch up! Run!” I shout, hoping they can hear me over the crackling of the fire and the falling trees.
Heat prickles my back and sweat beads up under my armor. I run hard, moving as fast as these boots allow, and when I get closer to the road with a wall of fire at my back, I see Nick waiting for me, standing alone.
“Hurry!” he shouts as the flames pass me by, engulfing me. The fire burns so bright and hot that Nick disappears from my sight as everything around me is consumed by flame.
In an instant, my armor covers my face, and I’m hot, but I’m not burning. As I run through the blaze, my armor adjusts, cooling me down. After a moment, I emerge from the woods onto the road to see Nick dropped in defeat, grief stricken. I step up to him and his head shoots up to look at me.
“I’m fine,” I assure him, and without a word he stands, takes my hand in his, and we run down the bloodied road of yellow brick.
Up ahead I see Ardie with Toto in his arms, running hard. He’s fast for a zombie, thank goodness. We catch up to them, and we all run without stopping, doing our best to get as far ahead of the flames as we can. At our heels, the blaze consumes the forest, and our feet pound down on the brick as we try to escape. When we pass a stream, running over a bridge, we slow down hoping the fire will stop at the water. And thank goodness it does.
8
The Cowardly Shifter
As we travel along, we look back often to see the fire dying down in the distance. Another hour passes and the flames subside enough for Ardie to unclench, and at a much slower pace than the brisk jog we were in, we continue down the bloodied road of yellow brick without incident for a few more hours, speaking little to each other.
Jarred by the fire, Ardie says nothing at all, while Nick looks pensive, and I wish I knew what was going on in his head. So, I break the silence to ease my discomfort.
“How long do you think it will it be,” I ask Nick, “before we are out of the forest?”
“I cannot tell, for I have never been to the Emerald City, but my father went there once when I was a boy and said it was a long journey through a dangerous country. Nearer to the city where the Great and Terrifying Wizard of Oz dwells, they say the country is beautiful, but that was before the plague. Now I imagine it’s crawling with night creatures.”
Loud growling soughs through the trees, followed by a terrible roar that startles us all. I jump back with a gasp, and my armor surrounds my body. A split second later, a great beast bounds into the road—man and lion fused together to create one terrifying creature the size of a small car. Whether it’s instinct or logic that tells me this werebeast won’t attack, I am not sure. It announced its arrival with growls and roars. Enough nature shows have taught me a lion hunting would have remained quiet. Or maybe it’s the boots assuring me this werelion can’t hurt me.
But then he pounces. One blow of his paw sends Ardie flying to the edge of the road. Another sonorous roar, then he strikes Nick with his sharp claws. The beast makes no impression on his armor, but Nick falls over with a loud clank into the crumbling yellow brick. As a defensive measure, Nick lays still on the road, as if the shifter may just go away.
Far too brave for his own good, Toto runs barking toward the werelion. I rush forward as it opens his mouth to bite my dog, and for some reason only my boots know, instead of killing the thing, I slap the werelion upon his nose.
“Don’t you dare bite my dog,” I say, seething. “Shame on you, a big shifter like you trying to bite such a small creature.”
“But I didn’t bite him,” says the Werelion, whimpering as he rubs his nose with his massive paw.
“No, but you tried to, coward, attacking something so little.”
“I know it,” says the Werelion, hanging his head in shame. “I’ve always known it. Why do you think I did this to myself? Because I’m a coward and I needed something to defend myself against the undead.”
“So, you go around striking an unbitten man and a kind zombie?”
“Is he kind?” asks the Werelion in surprise as he watches me pick Ardie up and set him upon his feet.
“We’re all walking together, aren’t we?”
“Well, if he’s a human man, why is he dressed like a sorcerer?”
“That’s armor, genius,” I say as Nick stands and brushes himself off.
“That’s why he almost blunted my claws. When they scratched against the tin, it made a cold shiver run down my back,” he says and shudders. “And what is that vicious little creature?”
“He is my dog, Toto.”
“Is he an undead or a werebeast?”
“Neither. He’s a dog, an animal, and a tiny one compared to you.”
“Oh, what a curious thing. He seems so small now that I look at him. Only a coward like me would think of biting such a little creature.”
“What’s with the act?” I ask, eyeing the great beast with suspicion.
“Act?”
“You’re as big as a tree but whimpering like a toddler.”
“It’s not an act,” replies the Werelion. “I suppose I was born this way. When the plague hit, I thought I’d turn myself into a werelion, for the lion is the King of Beasts and all the other creatures would fear me. Everyone expects me to be brave, even though I am not. Never have been. Soon, I learned loud roars frightened every man, werebeast, vampire, and undead, and they would all get out of my way. Whenever I come across anyone at all, I’m always scared, but then I roar at them, and they always run away as fast as they can go. Any time the werebeasts or the zombies or the vampires have ever tried to fight me, I’ve run because I’m such a coward, but as soon as they hear me roar, they all try to get away from me, and I let them go every time.”
“The King of Werebeasts shouldn’t be a coward,” says Ardie.
“I know it,” the Werelion says and pouts, wiping a tear from his eye with the tip of his tail. “Whenever there is a danger, which is often, my heart beats so fast I shake. It’s embarrassing.”
“Perhaps you have a heart disease,” remarks Nick with a snort.
“Perhaps I do,” gasps the Werelion, a new layer of worry etching into his furry, shifter face.
“At least he has a heart,” Ardie snorts back in the Werelion’s defense.
“If I were heartless, perhaps I would not be a coward. When I was just a man, I was the biggest coward of them all. I thought becoming a werelion would cure it, but it did nothing for it. The only thing it did was give me a loud roar, a way to trick the undead into thinking I was brave, and I can run far faster than before. It was not worth it. Oh, it hurt so much. For a week straight I cried from the pain. Every time I think of it, I cry again for fear of shifting back. I’ll never be brave enough to do it. Even if I were brave enough to live as a man again, I couldn’t because I’m too much of a coward to shift again. Oh, I wish I were a courageous man. Then I could be a courageous werelion and be the King of Werebeasts—what a werelion should be.”
“I am going to the Great and Terrifying Wizard of Oz to ask him to cure me,” remarks Ardie, “for I hate being a zombie. All I ever desire or think of is my need to consume brains—I can’t sleep or eat real food. It’s a terrible ailment,” Ardie says, forlorn, joining in the Werelion’s pity party.
“Are you going to the Emerald City too?” the Werelion asks Nick.
“Yes, to get away from a life of murdering vampires and night creatures like you two,” Nick says, and the Werelion cowers in fear.
“A-and you, Sorceress?” th
e Werelion asks, stuttering.
“I’m not a sorceress, just a person, and yeah, I will ask him to send Toto and me back to Kansas, the place I came to this realm from.”
“Do you think the Great and Terrifying Wizard of Oz could give me courage?”
“Perhaps he can,” Ardie says. “Perhaps you wouldn’t need it if you lived in the Vampire Free Zone. There are murmurs he can cure my zombiism, and if he can do that, if he can give the Axeman a chance to have a heart again, if he can get Dorothy and Toto back to Kansas, anything is possible.”
“Then, if you don’t mind, may I go with you?” asks the Werelion, “For I am too afraid to travel there alone, and my life is unbearable without even a smidgeon of courage in this plagued world.”
“Maybe he could help to keep away the other werebeasts. Just the look of him could be enough of a help to make it there,” I say to Nick and Ardie.
“Even though I am far from it, I look quite intimidating,” the Werelion says.
When Nick and Ardie both give reluctant nods of assent, our little group sets off upon the journey.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Clem, but most people just call me Werelion.”
“Which do you prefer?”
“Werelion, for I was never too fond of Clem.”
“Werelion it is. I’m Dorothy, this is Nick, that’s Ardie, and this is my dog, Toto.”
“Nice to meet you all and thank you for allowing me to accompany you to the Vampire Free Zone.”
Dorothy In the Land of Monsters Page 11
