The Wizard of OZ

by S. D. Stuart

  “I have finished The Three Musketeers several times now sweetie.”

  “You know they’ve translated that into English. You don’t have to read it in French.”

  Elizabeth folded the book into her lap and smiled at Dorothy. “The English translations edit out some of the better parts of the story.”

  “What better parts?”

  Elizabeth smiled wider. “I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

  “Older, older. Always when I’m older. When will I be old enough for anything?”

  Elizabeth opened her book and began reading again. “When you’re older dear.”

  Dorothy crossed her arms in defiance and turned to look out the window of the carriage again. She could not see very far.

  A thicker blanket of fog, if that was even possible, had rolled in while talking to her mother and she could just make out the front doors to the Council Chambers.

  She stared at the doors and willed them to open.

  This time they did.

  She squinted through the soft haze to see who had just walked out. In the long black wool coats and gray trousers, every man from London to the East India Trading Company looked the same. When a flash of red cut through the fog, as if it were a tightly focused lighthouse, she knew instantly to whom it belonged.

  Dorothy shot up from her seat and leaned out the carriage window. “Daddy!”

  Her mother grabbed her dress to keep her from toppling out.

  “Daddy!”

  He squinted back at her through the fog and waved a hand as he hurried over to the carriage. The springs groaned and the carriage rocked as her father climbed into it.

  Her mother was the first to speak. “How did it go?”

  “They wouldn’t even listen to my proposal.”

  “Well, it’s not the end of the world honey,” she said.

  His face grew somber as he stared into her eyes.

  Her face grew just as somber. “Is it?”

  He sat back and let out a big sigh. “It was bad enough when they cut the funding for the woodsman project, and let all the security automatons fail one by one, rather than send in repair teams. It was even worse when they rejected my tactical observer proposal. But this time they have gone too far.”

  Dorothy’s mother tried to reassure him. “It can’t be that bad.”

  He looked at her mother with an intensity Dorothy had never seen before. “The Council is gone. They are turning over control of the Australis Penal Colony to the inmates. Nobody on the outside is going to know what’s going on in there.”

  Dorothy could not remember her parents behaving like this. Ever. It sent a sudden shiver down her spine. “Daddy?”

  He turned toward her and his face instantly softened. “I’m sorry honey, your mother and I don’t mean to frighten you.” He looked at her mother and then back to her before reaching into the pocket of his coat. “It’s a bit early, but I thought now would be good time to give you your birthday present.”

  He pulled out the small wooden box from his pocket and smiled at her.

  All her fears melted away in an instant. “What is it? What is it?”

  He handed her the small box. “Open it and see.”

  She tilted the lid back on its hinges and stared down at two perfectly shaped emerald hearts. She blinked her eyes a couple of times in surprise. It looked as if they both glowed brightly from an inner light. She looked out the window to see if the sun was reflecting off the emeralds causing them to sparkle, but a dark blanket of fog still enveloped the city. She looked up at her father. His face reflected the green glow coming from both emeralds.

  “These two emeralds are special. They generate a form of energy when in close proximity to each other. The closer they are to each other, the brighter they glow.”

  She reached for one and paused. “Can I touch it?”

  “None of the energy is lost to heat.”

  She gave him a quizzical look.

  He laughed. “Yes, Dorothy, you can touch it.”

  She reached into the box and took one out and held it in the palm of her hand. “I love it.”

  Her father slid the box back into the pocket of his frock. “As soon as we get home we’ll have it mounted in a necklace for you.”

  Dorothy’s mother looked at her father. “I don’t remember seeing any jewelry shops here in New Kansas.”

  “I meant back home, in America.”

  Dorothy’s heart skipped a beat and the edges of her mouth felt like they were going to tear, she was smiling so big.

  Her father stared out the carriage window at the Council building. “There’s nothing left for us here.” His eyes glazed over as he stared through the building and beyond into the impenetrable fog. “There’s a storm coming, and the old fools don’t even know it.”

  Dorothy hopped up and down in her seat. “When are we going home?”

  Her father smiled at her. “I will book passage on the next ship out of here. Speaking of going home,” he said as he glanced up at the ceiling of the carriage. “Why are we just sitting here?”

  He banged his hand on the ceiling of the carriage. “Driver.”

  Dorothy’s parents exchanged a look before her father poked his head out the window. “Driver?”

  Two strong hands grabbed her father by his wool coat and pulled him out the window and into the street.

  Dorothy screamed. Her mother jumped up as a second man appeared at the carriage window and pointed a flintlock pistol at her. “Why don’t you two ladies sit for a little while longer?”

  Dorothy’s mother settled back into her seat. “It’s okay Dorothy, everything will be all right.”

  The man smiled, most of his teeth decayed down to the swollen gum line. “That’s right missy. Everything will be all right as long as you stay quiet.”

  Dorothy’s mother winked at her before turning to the man with the gun.

  “With how moist the air is with all this fog, I doubt your flintlock will even spark.”

  The man’s rotting grin gaped wider. “Are you willing to stake your life on it?”

  He shifted the muzzle of the gun and pointed it at Dorothy. “How about the life of little girly here?”

  Outside, her father struggled with the man who pulled him out of the carriage. There was a sudden noise, as if somebody hit a hollow log with a stick, followed by a grunt, and then everything went quiet.

  The man with the rotting teeth laughed and stepped back from the window. “You two stay put if you ever want to see him alive again.”

  She had not realized she had been holding her breath until she heard her mother exhale. They both watched as the second man grabbed her father’s limp legs and, with the help of his bigger associate, carried him off into the fog.

  As soon as the men disappeared around the corner, Dorothy’s mother yanked a Derringer double-barreled pocket pistol out of her purse. “Stay here Dorothy.”

  The carriage rocked violently as Dorothy’s mother leapt to the street and ran to the corner of the building.

  She took a quick peek around the corner and then pressed herself flat against the wall. She looked back at Dorothy and mouthed “stay put” before she raised her Derringer with one hand and gathered up the folds of her skirt, exposing her legs in a very unladylike manner, with the other.

  She took three quick breaths and disappeared round the corner, her Derringer held out in front of her.

  Dorothy held her breath and stared unblinking at the corner of the alleyway, waiting for her mother to come back out with her father. She was just about to jump out of the carriage and follow her when a gunshot tore through the silence and made Dorothy jump.

  The fog muffled the sounds, but Dorothy thought she heard someone cry out in pain.

  Two more gunshots in rapid succession echoed from the alley.

  That was one more shot than her mother’s Derringer held. She could not stay in the carriage any longer. She had to do something.

  She jumped out and ra
n across the street before skidding to an abrupt stop along the edge of the building. She was about to run into a gun battle without a gun.

  The carriage driver always carried a pistol in the strongbox next to his seat. She could use that one.

  She ran back across the street and reached for the handholds on the carriage when she noticed she was still gripping the emerald heart her father had given her in the palm of her hand. She slipped it into the deep pocket of her coat and clambered up onto the carriage where she stifled a scream and froze.

  The driver was slumped over in his seat with a pool of crimson red forming all around him.

  She gripped the railing and worked her way to the other side of the driver’s perch where the strongbox held his pistol. She paused when she saw that his hand had already disengaged the lock but still held on to the latch. The men who attacked had not given him time to do anything else. But how had they managed to kill the driver without anyone noticing? They were sitting in the carriage the entire time and had not heard or felt anything.

  She did not have time to worry about that now, her mother needed her help.

  Dorothy stared at the hand that held the strongbox closed. His final act of courage had now become a barrier to getting the pistol.

  She gritted her teeth as she took the tips of her fingers and clamped them on the driver’s hand. Shivers went up and down her spine as she handled the cooling flesh. This was not something a proper 10-year-old girl should be doing. But, getting that pistol was the only way she could think of to help her parents. Without a weapon of her own, she would be completely defenseless. This was her only option.

  She peeled the fingers off the lid of the strongbox one by one and let the hand fall limply to the driver’s side. It shifted his weight and he fell to the side. That’s when she saw the crossbow bolt embedded in his heart. Her stomach churned and threatened to expel what was left of her breakfast. She swallowed a couple of times and forced herself to remain in control.

  Her mother had taught her to be strong, and that’s what she had to be.

  She lifted the lid and scooped out the flintlock pistol.

  She quickly checked it and knew enough from watching her father clean and load his guns that this one was loaded and ready to fire.

  She was now in a position to help.

  And she was going to do whatever it took to help her mother get her father back.

  She jumped down from the carriage and ran to the corner. She pressed flat against the wall and peeked into the alley.

  There were two bodies lying on the cobblestone pavement in the alley. She immediately recognized one of them. “Mother!”

  She ran and skidded on her knees to her mother’s side.

  “Mother, are you okay?”

  Her mother’s eyes fluttered open and focused on Dorothy. A small smile creased her lips. She spoke barely above a whisper. “Find your father.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes. “I won’t leave you Mother.”

  Her mother weakly reached up a hand, her gloves soaked in blood, and brushed a strand of hair from in front of Dorothy’s face. “Don’t cry sweetie, you have to be strong.”

  When she spoke, Dorothy could see her mother’s teeth rimmed with a red liquid that welled up from her throat. She coughed, sending her into a full body spasm. Dorothy held her head and tried to keep it steady. “Hold on Mother, I’ll go get help.”

  She gripped Dorothy’s arm. “Use the emerald. Find your father.”

  Dorothy shook her head. “I’m not letting you die.”

  “It’s too late for me.”

  “I can save you. I just have to go get help.”

  “Save your father, he can save everyone.”

  “I’m not letting you go.”

  She smiled at Dorothy through the pain that was clear on her face.

  “But I’m letting you go.” Her mother closed her eyes and her head lolled to one side.

  “Mother?”

  There was no response. She shook her gently. “Mother!”

  A scuffling sound on the cobblestone made her look up and she saw the man who her mother shot trying to crawl out of the alley.

  Dorothy jumped up, grabbing the driver’s flintlock pistol, and pointed it at the man.

  “Don’t move. Or I’ll finish what my mother started.”

  The man rolled over to one side and grinned that hideous rotted smile at her. “Aren’t we a feisty one?”

  Dorothy’s tiny hands barely made it all the way around the wooden handle as she struggled to keep the pistol steady. “You killed my mother.”

  The man looked past her at the still form of her mother lying in the alleyway behind her and then back up to her. “I guess there’s no sense in denying it, is there?”

  “Where’s my father?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  She pulled back on the pistol’s hammer and took a step closer. “Tell me where he is or I’ll …” She let what she hadn’t said hang in the air for a moment.

  His response was to laugh. “Or you’ll do what? Shoot me?”

  Her heart pounded deep in her chest, making the pistol tremble even more. It did not escape his attention. He tilted his head to the side. “No. I don’t think you’ll shoot me.”

  She gripped the pistol’s handle tighter. “Tell me where my father is, or I will.”

  The man chuckled. “I’m sorry, but your threat is just not as strong as the threat of the man who hired me.” He continued to drag himself across the cobblestone, grunting with the effort as he did so.

  “I’ll shoot you, I really will.”

  He stopped to catch his breath. “There is an inherent flaw with your threat. You see, if I tell you what I know, the man who hired me will have my family killed. I can accept my own death better than that of my wife and daughter.” He looked differently at her this time. She did not like it.

  “You’re about the same age as my daughter. I’d hate for her to never be given the chance to grow up, fall in love, and have a family of her own. I do not want my daughter suffering for my sins, so I will afford you the same opportunity to not suffer for the sins of your father.”

  He started up again with his slow trek across the alley.

  “What does someone like you know about love?”

  “Don’t judge me by my outer appearance, or my actions here today.”

  “Tell me who hired you. The police can put him in jail and your family will be safe.”

  The man laughed again as he made it to the edge of the alley. He twisted himself around and sat up against a stack of barrels that ran along one edge of the wall. “The man who hired me is already in jail.”

  “Then what are you afraid of?”

  “His reach extends to the four corners of the world. Being in jail has not affected his influence on others at all. In fact, I think he prefers it in there.”

  “Then you can tell me who he is.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that lass. He always covers his tracks.” The man swiped his hand against the cobblestone and a flame blossomed at the end of the Lucifer match he held in his fingers. She jumped at the sudden movement and almost squeezed the trigger.

  He looked at her over the bright flame of the match. “Run.”

  He tossed the lit match over his shoulder and into the barrel behind him. Only then did she notice that the barrels stacked three high along the edge of the wall were all marked, in bold black lettering, as “GUNPOWDER”.

  The world around her slowed to a snail’s crawl.

  She let the pistol fall from her grip as she turned to run out of the alley.

  Behind her, a blinding flash announced the impending arrival of a massive explosion.

  The shock wave lifted her off her feet before throwing her back down onto the cobblestone and shoving her out of the alley. The world returned to normal speed as she tumbled uncontrollably across the street.

  She stopped face down and watched as bricks rained down all around her. She could not
hear the individual bricks crashing back down to the ground over the continual high-pitched wail in her eardrums. When the shower of debris ended, she slowly tested her arms and legs. No broken bones.

  She pushed herself up and looked at the massive holes in the sides of the two buildings that used to enclose the alley. The alleyway itself was nothing but a gaping hole in the ground. She stared at the destruction with no idea what to do next.

  If there was ever any hope of saving her mother, that was gone now.

  And the only person who knew who had taken her father was also gone.

  Then she remembered her mother’s last words.

  Use the emerald her father gave her to find him.

  Dorothy’s heart raced as she dug into the pocket of her coat and pulled out the emerald heart.

  It still glowed, but was much fainter than when the emeralds were next to each other.

  That was it! The emerald would glow brighter when she was near him. She could use it like a compass.

  She had a way to find her father.

  She pictured the layout of the city in her mind’s eye and tried to decide which way they traveled when they left the other side of the now destroyed alley.

  She closed her eyes and let her mind sweep over the city like a falcon hunting its prey.

  Around her, a small crowd had gathered, drawn by the noise of the explosion. People were yelling and screaming through the fog about containing the fire that had erupted in one of the buildings.

  Someone touched her shoulder and asked in a soft voice, “Are you okay little girl?”

  Her eyes shot open.

  They must be headed for the docks.

  They were going to take her father off New Kansas on a ship.

  She looked up at the woman. “I’m okay now.”

  She took off at a dead run and flew through the city, heading toward the docks on the east side.

  She paused halfway there to catch her breath and looked at the emerald. It had grown fainter.

  That’s not right, she thought. “It’s not getting brighter,” she said aloud.

  She spun around and looked in the other direction of the city. “Unless, I’m not getting closer.”

  They must be taking him off the island by a ship. But not a ship made for the ocean. They hadn’t headed for the docks. They must have taken him to the airfield.