The Land of the Dead: Book Four of the Oz Chronicles

by R. W. Ridley

  “I would have to kill him if he’s not already dead!”

  “What are saying?” she asked with a tear rolling down her cheek.

  “The Délons have him. He will be marked, and he will be turned. You remember how they turn people, right?”

  “I…”

  I cut her off. The anger that had escaped me earlier was in full force now. “A shunter crawls out of its solifipod while you’re sleeping and attaches itself to your face to suck out the part of your brain that makes you human.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Because you weren’t there. You didn’t see what I did to him. I pulled the shunter off. I tore his face off. I can’t do that to him again.”

  “Again?” She approached cautiously, reached out and gently took my hand. “None of this is real, Oz. You didn’t do anything to Archie. I need you to see that. We don’t belong in this world. The only way we can get back to where we belong is if we are all focused on getting home. We can’t do this without Tyrone… or you.”

  I looked down at her hand holding mine and collapsed to one knee. “I’m tired.”

  She squeezed my hand. “That’s allowed.” She smiled.

  I chuckled and looked up at her. “Wes is right. There’s a chance that we’ll never get home no matter how hard we fight.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but there’s a chance we will, too.”

  I stood and stared at her eyes. If I could, I would have never stopped looking at them, but a crashing sound in the parking lot diverted our attention. My body went stiff. Lou reached out and grabbed my arm. Her breathing was heavy and fast.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  I swallowed. “Wind…”

  Another crash came, followed by the wap-wap-wap of feet on the ground. Wap-wap-wap. Wap-wap-wap. Lou and I backed toward the store entrance. Neither of us had any weapons. A conversation carried out in whispers drifted through the darkness.

  “Not the wind,” Lou said.

  A cry, “Whoop!” sounded out from the back of the parking lot.

  “Augh-wee-op!” was the reply. Whoever or whatever it was was just on the edge of the darkness.

  “Whoop-whoo!” Another call.

  I stepped forward.

  “Where are you going?” Lou asked.

  “Sounds like… a couple of kids,” I said.

  “Yeah, well the last bunch of kids we ran into tried to feed us to a bunch of locusts.”

  I turned to her and gave her point some thought. “Carl’s group?”

  She nodded.

  “I remember. That’s when you lost Tank.”

  “How did you know about Tank?”

  Before I could answer, another call came from the darkness.

  “What do you want?” I yelled.

  I could hear the faint sound of whispering. They were bickering.

  “Show yourself!” I yelled.

  Nothing.

  “You chicken?” I provoked.

  The whispering got louder. Finally a single voice emerged. “We are the Throwaways!”

  “Throwaways?” I mumbled. “You heard of ‘em?” I asked Lou.

  “No,” she said.

  “What do you Throwaways want?”

  There was a long pause. “We are the Throwaways!”

  I chuckled and Lou shrugged her shoulders.

  “You said that already,” I answered.

  There was another series of intense whispers and then the same single voice spoke. “We want… you to surrender.”

  FIVE

  I saw the figure of a tall lanky boy hidden in the shadows. He held on to a staff. As he stepped closer, I could see that he was dressed too lightly for the chilly temperature. His face was thin and his skin was horrifically pale.

  “Why do you want us to surrender?” I asked. “I didn’t even know we were fighting.”

  “We are,” the boy shouted. “We are the Throwaways. We are at war with everyone and everything.”

  “That doesn’t sound fun,” I yelled.

  I heard the door to the store open and turned to see Ajax, Aribod, and Wes exit.

  “What in the world is going on out here?” Wes asked.

  “We’ve got visitors,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “The Throwaways.”

  “We are the Throwaways,” the boy said.

  I shook my head. “They say that a lot.”

  “What do they want?”

  “For us to surrender,” Lou said.

  Wes raised an eyebrow. “How many of them are there?”

  “Best as I can tell,” I said, “five, maybe a couple more.”

  Ajax hoot-growled and pounded his chest. Ariabod snorted like a bull.

  “Hold on,” I said. “I’m pretty sure they’re harmless.”

  “Pretty sure ain’t good enough,” Wes said. “Lou, get inside and have Gordy, April, Kimball, and Tyrone sneak out the back and circle around behind these jokers.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “I think we should just calm down. Let me talk to them.”

  “This world ain’t really built for talking your way out of trouble,” Wes said.

  “Give me five minutes,” I said. “Let me go out there and see if I can’t talk some sense into them.”

  Wes thought over my request and then nodded. “Fine, but you’re taking Ajax with you.”

  I winked at my old gorilla friend. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Ajax and I moved ahead of the others. “We’re coming out,” I said.

  “What for?” the boy asked.

  “To talk about the terms of surrender,” I said.

  Ajax and I slowly made our way to the tall slender boy. I got a glimpse of two others crouched down nearby, behind a defunct street light.

  The tall boy’s face struck me as… incomplete. He had all the right parts, two eyes, a nose, a mouth. They just didn’t have any… depth.

  “What are your terms?” I asked.

  “Terms?”

  “Are we prisoners? Do we just get to leave? Maybe you want us to join your crew…”

  “Can’t join,” he parked. “We are the…”

  “The Throwaways. You said that about a billion times. I get it.”

  The tall boy pointed at Ajax. “He looks funny.”

  I furrowed my brow and snickered. “He’s not exactly the kind you want to insult.” I struggled to pinpoint what was missing from the tall boy’s face. “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “I lost it,” he said.

  “You lost your name?”

  He nodded.

  I turned to look at Ajax for answers. He shook his head and grinned. I noticed his thick brow cast a shadow across his nose, and that’s when it hit me. I turned back to the tall boy. No part of him cast a shadow.

  “I have decided my terms,” he said.

  I was busy examining his face and nearly forgot what we had been discussing. “Oh, okay.”

  “We want to join your story.”

  The request surprised me. “Story?”

  “We don’t want to be Throwaways.”

  “What do you mean by story?”

  He turned to his friends for guidance. They stood and approached cautiously. They were even less defined than he was. It almost appeared as if… part of them had been erased. In fact, one them had only half a right eye, and one arm appeared to be considerably shorter than the other.

  The tall boy shrugged and said, “Story is just… life.”

  “Life?” I was starting to understand. “I accept your terms,” I said.

  The tall boy and his two friends smiled.

  “How many Throwaways are there?”

  “We are all Throwaways,” he said confused.

  “No, I mean how many will be joining our story? Is it just you three?”

  He thought about the question. It was obvious he wasn’t all there. He turned to the back parking lot and shouted. “Come forward. They have surrendered.”

  Three more
of the strange looking Throwaways stepped forward… except for one. He or she… or at least half of a he or she was rolled forward in a cart by another with no face. There was just a flat blank surface where its eyes, nose, and mouth should be.

  I was already beginning to regret the terms of surrender I had agreed to.

  ***

  The Throwaways sat in silence near the first register in the Walmart. Kimball sniffed them when they first entered the store, but quickly lost interest. Ariabod didn’t even acknowledge them. The front of the store was lit by a series of kerosene lanterns. The light did not do the Throwaways any favors. Their bizarre appearance was even more unsettling.

  I offered them food. They hesitated as if they weren’t sure they ate food. Finally, the Ttll boy took a bag of beef jerky from my outstretched hand. He smelled the bag. He knew enough not to eat the plastic, but he wasn’t quite sure how to open it. I took it from him, ripped open the bag, and handed it back to him. He looked terrified as he pulled a piece of jerky out and examined it. Slowly, he brought the dried meat to his mouth and took a bite. There was a delayed reaction as he chewed. His face puckered and he swallowed. He smiled and turned to his friends. “Food.” Those that had mouths followed his lead.

  Gordy pulled me aside. “Excuse me, what exactly are these… things?”

  “Throwaways,” I said as if he should have figured that out on his own.

  “If Throwaway means butt-ugly, then that makes sense,” he said.

  Wes joined us. “What are you planning on doing with these… fellas?”

  I shrugged. “They said they wanted to be part of our story.”

  “What story?” Gordy asked rubbing his wounded shoulder.

  “I knew it,” Lou said joining our conversation. “We’re back in the comic books.”

  “I don’t think we ever left,” I said.

  “You lost me,” Gordy said.

  Wes waddled toward us. “Another comic book?”

  April scampered toward us. “You guys, don’t leave me alone with those things.”

  I looked over at the Throwaways. They were still amused by the prospect of eating. Even the one without a face. He… or she… or it rubbed a Frito up and down its featureless face. Tyrone sat a few feet from them and stared at them without a shred of emotion in his eyes.

  “Stevie,” Lou said ignoring April. “He had a lot of comic books.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” I said.

  “None of this makes sense,” Gordy said.

  “It makes perfect sense,” Lou said, “or are you forgetting about Stevie’s little Takers masterpiece?”

  “No,” I said. “But each Destroyer has its own Storyteller. They don’t all come from Stevie.”

  “Kid,” Wes said, “just cause Stevie had a bunch of comics don’t mean he made ‘em all.”

  I wanted to argue with him, but I couldn’t. I’d gone through the comics in Stevie’s room, but I didn’t look to see if he had created them all. I was just looking for the one about the Takers.

  Wes could tell his logic made sense to me. “I say we track our way back to Tullahoma. Get ourselves over to Stevie’s house and find his comics.”

  April looked confused. “You guys are sure into comics.”

  “Don’t look at me,” Gordy said. “This whole conversation is about as geek-a-fied as it gets.”

  Lou grunted. “Try to pay attention, you two. The comics are… road maps. We can use them to find out what’s going to happen before it happens.”

  “Just before,” Wes said. “We can’t forget about that. What if we find these comic books? Could be same rules apply. We read it and these… destroyer things will come after us.”

  I started to walk away. “They’re going to come anyway.”

  ***

  I woke up several hours later to the sounds of Ajax and Ariabod grunting. They were sitting near the store entrance signing to each other. The conversation was intense. I feared that they may even start pounding on each other.

  I found Lou sleeping nearby and nudged her awake. “I need your signing skills,” I whispered.

  She wiped her eyes and I almost felt guilty for waking her up. A good sleep was something that was few and far between in this world, and I hated taking that away from her, but then again this was a war.

  She yawned and sat up. I pointed to the two gorillas. She looked at me and nodded as she climbed to her feet. “This better be good.”

  She moved closer quietly. “They’re arguing,” she whispered.

  “No kidding,” I whispered back.

  “Ariabod doesn’t like the Throwaways.”

  “They take a little getting used to,” I said.

  “Ajax doesn’t like them either, but he…” she snickered. “The big dumb ape trusts you.”

  I smiled.

  “They don’t know where they came from.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” I said.

  “No,” she answered. “You don’t understand. They’re saying they don’t belong.” She watched the two gorillas sign back and forth. “Something about families. There is no family…” She groaned. “They’re going too fast. They’re saying something about family history.”

  “Family history?”

  She studied the gorillas more intently, even taking a few steps forward. “The Throwaways aren’t in the family history. That’s what their saying. The Throwaways aren’t part of the folklore. They don’t belong.”

  I stood next to her. I looked at the gorillas with a suspicious glare.

  “What’s wrong?” Lou asked.

  “If they know who doesn’t belong, then that means they know who does. I wonder what else they’re not telling us.” I stormed off towards them.

  “Oz,” Lou said.

  I ignored her and kept walking.

  “Oz,” she said louder. “Wait.”

  “They’ve been holding out on us,” I said.

  “Not Ajax,” she said.

  The gorillas heard us talking and hurriedly stopped signing.

  “You don’t want to make a scene,” she said.

  “No?” I answered. “I really think I do.”

  “Fine,” she said stopping her pursuit of me. “Tell the two gigantic gorillas you’re pissed off at them. That seems like a grand idea.”

  I stopped. Ajax and Ariabod flashed their teeth through a pair of grimaces. The size of them, their powerful builds, their dark eyes… approaching them with an attitude definitely was not a grand idea. I motioned for Lou to stand beside me. “How should I approach this?”

  She shook her head. “You should let a woman handle it.”

  I bowed my head and gestured for her to go ahead.

  She positioned herself in front of Ajax and Ariabod and asked, “How do you know they don’t belong?”

  They shared a look.

  “You can’t really whisper a sign,” she said. “We saw what you were saying.”

  Ajax settled back on his haunches and signed. I moved in next to Lou and watched him effortlessly move from one sign to the next. Ariabod watched him steely eyed. Lou’s eyes followed Ajax’s hands.

  “I don’t…” she shook her head.

  “What?” I asked.

  “He’s just repeating what we already know.”

  Ajax huffed and signed more frantically.

  “They are… not nature…” She shook her head. “I think he means unnatural.”

  I snickered. “You think? Not much in this world is natural.”

  Lou continued to read Ajax’s sign. “Gorillas always know…Gorillas don’t know Throwaways.”

  I squatted. “Explain.”

  He signed.

  “He just repeated himself.”

  I slapped his hand. “Come clean, Ajax.”

  He furrowed his thick brow and gritted his teeth.

  Ariabod let out a muffled bark. Ajax gave him a reassuring look.

  “What are you doing?” Lou asked concerned.

  “Losing my patience
.”

  “With a four hundred pound gorilla,” she stressed.

  “I don’t care.” I looked at Ajax. “Tell me what you know. Everything.”

  He signed.

  “He said he… always talks… I think he means he tells you everything.”

  “Gorillas always know,” I said. “You know everything. Everything includes how we can fix this thing. How we can bring everything back. Beat the Destroyers.”

  Ariabod excitedly signed.

  Lou turned to me. “He thinks you’re stupid. He thinks it’s a waste of time talking to you.”

  “I’m not stupid. I’m mad,” I said looking at Ariabod.

  He motioned toward me and I flinched. Kimball appeared out of nowhere snarling at Ariabod.

  “Everyone just needs to settle down,” Lou said.

  The tall boy emerged from behind the gorillas. “I understand,” he said.

  Startled, Ajax and Ariabod let out shrill hoots. The tall boy seemed almost amused by their reaction.

  I stood. “I’m listening.”

  He leaned in and narrowed his eyes. “Is that how I should look when I’m listening?”

  “What?” I groaned. “No, I mean tell me what you understand.”

  “I understand what they mean by gorillas always know.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And…”

  “They mean gorillas always feel. They know because it feels as if it should be.”

  I peered around him to see if Ajax agreed with the tall boy. He nodded and grinned.

  “Throwaways should not be,” the tall boy said.

  SIX

  The plan was to go back to Stevie Dayton’s house in Tullahoma. We were in a story. That had to be the answer. It made sense… as much as things could make sense in this crazy upside down world.

  I wasn’t looking forward to returning to Tullahoma. It was home. But it never could be again. Even if by some miracle we were able to bring the normal world back, Tullahoma would never be the same to me. I had watched it wither and die. I had seen it at its ugliest. I didn’t know if I could ever shake those images from my head.

  There was also the prospect of going back to Stevie Dayton’s house. The last time I was there… Mrs. Dayton. They mutilated her, the Délons. Because of me. I drove her son to suicide. I destroyed her world long before it ended for the rest of us. But she still tried to help me. How could she do that? I had taken everything from her. Why didn’t she hate me? The more I thought about how forgiving she seemed to be, the more I hated myself.