The Journey Begins

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The Journey Begins Page 3

by Cat Crafter


  “Please don’t tap on that,” the witch said. “I can’t help you if you tap on it.”

  I leaned back, the chair slipped back. I leaned forward. “How can you help me?”

  “I can tell you the best path to follow!” she said.

  I smiled, well as much as I could. “Great! Tell me the best path to follow!”

  The witch stood there quietly.

  “Please,” I added.

  “I will,” the witch said. “All you have to do is solve one simple riddle.”

  I pointed to my head. “I’m pretty smart for a zombie.”

  “Good good,” the witch smiled. “All you have to do is tell me if I am a good witch or a bad witch!”

  “How many guesses do I get?” I asked.

  The witch rolled her eyes. “Just one. So am I a good witch or a bad witch?”

  I started thinking out loud: Well you’re offering to help me. That’s kind of a good thing. But you’re making me solve a riddle. That’s kind of a bad thing. Plus you’re a witch and from what I gather…most witches are bad. Cackling and throwing spells and all.

  I thought for a moment, then I answered, “But if you’re a bad witch and doing good, then you are bad at being a witch. Therefore, no matter what, you are a bad witch.”

  The witch smiled. “Good answer. I actually never thought of it that way.” She peered into her crystal ball. “If you head north and pass through the village towards the water, you will find the hero you seek.”

  “Great!” I said. I thought for a minute or two. “But passing through the village will scare the villagers and they might try to kill me!”

  The witch nodded. “True, I never said the path would be easy!” She smiled, “But I wish you luck.”

  I stood up. I had a path to follow. Not a great path, but a path is better than no path.

  Suddenly a question hit me. I figured it probably wouldn’t hurt to ask this witch. “Can I ask you a question?” I asked.

  “You just did!” she said with a cackle.

  She had me there. “Can I ask you another question after this question?” I asked, choosing my words carefully.

  “Sure,” she shrugged. “If I don’t like it, I’ll just hit you with lightning or something.”

  “Have you ever seen anything like me before? A zombie who is friendly and kind of smart?”

  “Baah!” Sheepie said.

  The witch scratched her chin. She scratched her head. She scratched her butt. She smiled, “Actually I have seen something like it. There was a half man, half zombie, that I met once. He came to me to be separated, but I told him that he was special. That’s how the maker of all made you. Be happy being who you are!”

  “Wow, that’s deep!” I told the witch.

  She pointed to her head. “When you live as long as I have, you learn stuff.” Her eyes popped open. “Oh that reminds me! For me sharing my amazing wisdom with him…he left me this!” She reached under the table and pulled out a long tube, some black powder and a tiny little stick.

  “Okay what’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s a potato launcher. Just stick in the power, a potato, use the little stick to make fire, point the launcher and it fires a potato.”

  “I could never do that to Pete!” I protest.

  The witch handed me the tube, black powder and fire stick. “Sure you could. Believe me you’ll scare off whatever you fire Pete at, without hurting Pete. Pete’s tough, he can take it.”

  I nodded and took the items from the witch. After all, if a witch offers you something to help you, you should take it. Plus, Pete is tough. “Thank you!” I said.

  “It’s nothing!” she said. “I’m a witch with magic and stuff. I don’t need to fire potatoes!” She waved to the door. “Now leave!”

  I did as she said.

  No Bones About It

  I felt good. I had met my first witch and nothing bad happened. In fact, I actually got some good info from her. Plus, being night time I could walk without fear from the sun. I actually figured this would be the ideal time to walk past the village. Being night, the villagers would be hiding in their homes. None of them would bother me.

  Sheepie and I closed in on the village with no problems. I actually felt good. Which I should have known was a problem...because zombies never feel good.

  Just as the village came into view something else came into view. A bunch of sword wielding skeletons were massing just outside the village. Oh, this looked bad. Not for me, really, skeletons don’t bug zombies. I think they think we smell funny – which we do. Though I don’t know how skeletons smell things. But if the skeletons attacked the town, they would wake up the villagers, making it harder for me to get through. Plus, being friendly and all, I really didn’t want yucky skeletons hurting the villagers.

  I had to stop them. I’ve only dealt with skeletons a little. I understand they are really hard to use logic on. But I decided to try.

  I walked up to the skeletons and waved. I gave them my most friendly smile. “Hey, dudes!” I said.

  The skeletons all turned towards me. They raised their swords. They stared at me and then they held their noses (or the spot where their noses should be).

  “Listen guys, could you do me a favor and not attack that village? After all, you seem like cool skeletons and attacking a village at night is so uncool.”

  They all looked at me with tilted heads.

  “Oh, yeah, I can talk,” I told them. “So do we have a deal?”

  They all shook their heads no. They turned and headed towards the village, swords raised. I sighed. I had to stop them. But one zombie armed with only sticks would probably would get their zombie butt kicked by five skeletons with swords. I needed a plan. I thought about it. I could charge and scream and yell…hopefully scaring them. Nah. I could hope they changed their mind. Nah, that wouldn’t happen. I could wake the villagers, but then they would just as likely attack me. I needed another idea.

  “Baah!” Sheepie said.

  Then it hit me. I could hit them with the potato launcher. I needed to remember how to use it. I pulled the long tube from my back. I scratched my head. Come on Zee, you can do this! I coached myself. I dropped the black powder into the tube. I took Pete my pet potato out of my pocket. “Okay Pete, I’m counting on you!” I said, putting him into the tube. I aimed the tube at the skeletons, luckily they were walking in a nice straight line. I struck the fire stick on the back of the tube. A little tiny bit of red flame appeared at the end of the stick. I touched the stick to the tube. It sizzled.

  Then BOOM!

  Pete went flying out of the tube and crashed through one skeleton, another skeleton and another. Three down, two to go. Two very confused skeletons looked down at the bones of their fallen friends. I did the only other thing I could do. I lumbered as fast as I could towards the two confused bags of bones. I smashed them with the long tube, shattering them into bones that flew all over the place.

  I picked up Pete and dusted him off. “Good job, buddy!” I told him.

  Sneaking through town

  With the skeletons reduced to separated bones I knew I could safely enter the sleeping village. As I passed one of the skeleton skulls, it clattered at me, like it wanted to bite me. “Look I tried to reason with you!” I said, walking by.

  Most of the village slept quietly. They had one lookout armed with some sort of sword and a torch walking up and down the street. I simply walked behind the guard, just far enough behind, so he could not see me. Torches are better than nothing in the dark, but not much better.

  When the guard got to end of the street he turned around. I darted (well lumbered as fast as I could) to the side of a little hut. I just needed to let the guard pass by and I’d be in the clear. I clung to the side wall of the house. I held my breath, then I realized that being dead, I didn’t need to do that. I looked down at Sheepie and put a finger to my mouth, hushing him, just in case. I watched the guard walk past. I smiled.

  The door to the hut
opened. A very little villager poked his head out. “I’m thirsty!” he told me.

  I pointed to the middle of the street. “There’s a well right there where you can get water.”

  “I’m too little to use the well myself,” the tiny villager told me.

  “You shouldn’t drink water at night, you’ll wet the bed! Nothing worse than a wet bed,” I told him.

  He stomped a square foot. “I want water!”

  I had a few choices here.

  I could eat the kid but that would be gross.

  I could get the kid water but that would risk alerting the guard who would alert the entire village.

  I could run, well lumber.

  “Please!” the small kid said.

  Suddenly it hit me. I had absolutely no idea how to operate a well. “Here’s the thing little villager,” I said. I paused trying to find the right way to say this.

  He looked up at me, “Yes?”

  “Do you promise not to yell?” I asked him.

  He nodded.

  “Look little one, I don’t know how to use a well!” I said.

  “Ah why?” he asked.

  “Cause I’m a zombie,” I whispered.

  “Oh,” the kid said. “Zombie! Zombie!!” he screamed.

  I had no choice but to make a break for it. I hopped on Sheepie and nudged her forward! “Go sheepie go!”

  I fell off Sheepie. Sheepie just stood there. I realized Sheepie would be better off staying in this village than continuing on with me. I stood up. “Kid, will you take good care of my sheep?”

  The kid nodded. “Sure, Mr. Zombie.”

  I lumbered off, pushing my legs to move faster than I had ever moved before.

  “Thanks for the Sheep Mr. Zombie!” I heard the kid call. “I’ll treat him well! Sorry for ratting you out!”

  Racing away, I heard villagers running behind me.

  “Get him!”

  “Bad zombie!”

  “How dare he attack us!”

  I didn’t bother pointing out that I didn’t attack anybody. I know that angry mobs just never listen to reason. I kept running.

  That is until I stumbled on a rock and hit the ground and rolled and rolled and rolled down a step, jagged stone cliff.

  While falling, I thought: Wow, that was really a silly place to place a village.

  I hit the ground with a thud. I hurt all over. Luckily being a zombie a fall like that wouldn’t kill me. It also stopped the villagers from chasing me. Looking up I saw them waving their fists at me. They were too far away for me to hear. A couple of them threw rocks. But they didn’t come close to me.

  I picked myself up and dusted myself off. I looked around. I stood on a coastline gazing into a vast blue ocean or sea. I can’t really tell the difference. I’m a smart zombie but not that smart. I started hiking along the shore. Didn’t know what I might find, but it had to be better than a bunch of angry villagers.

  I missed Sheepie, but I knew she had a good home now.

  ***

  Part 2

  The search continues….

  I sat thinking...finding other non-zombies is hard. After all, most things run from zombies, because we eat brains and fart a lot. You can’t blame other things for not wanting to hang out with us. Still, I was determined to change that and find a nice friendly friend.

  Well, actually I do have one friend. He’s my pet potato Pete. He’s cool and a great listener but he’s terrible at making conversation. That’s why I was questing for a friend to hang out with and talk to. I think friends are important. We all feel better when we have friends.

  This was one of those times I was lucky to be smarter than your average zombie. The average zombie isn’t smart enough to carry sticks and rocks to protect themselves from enemies and creepy things. I wear a big hat or helm to protect myself from the sun, which means unlike other zombies, I can travel in the day.

  That’s what brings me to where I am right now. I’m at the shore looking out into a nice blue ocean. Off in the distance past the water, I could see more trees and land. I thought maybe, just maybe, I could find a friend there. But to get there I’d have to get across that ocean.

  Ocean or No…

  Looking out over the water I wondered if I should dare crossing it? I was never a fan of swimming. Being a mostly dead zombie, I didn’t have to worry about drowning so that wasn’t the problem. I just never liked the feeling of being wet and clean. It tended to take away my smell. I liked my smell, I was used to it. Plus, I think my smell works great at scaring away yucky mobs. Plus, again, I didn’t like swimming - it was hard.

  I could try walking to the other land but that would be a LONG walk. I didn’t mind walking as I don’t have much else to do. And this is part of the reason why I’m looking for a friend. Problem is that I am not very fast at all. This could be really slow! I’d either be really bored or facing deadly mobs. I didn’t really know which one was worse.

  The other option I had was to turn around and go back the way I came. Of course there was a village back there and villagers didn’t really like zombies. If there are lots of zombies, villagers run from us. If they out number us, they turn into attack mode and try to kill us. It doesn’t seem to matter to them that I’m a friendly zombie. They never listen enough to me let me explain. It probably doesn’t help that words aren’t my thing, especially when I’m nervous. I’ll tell you when a villager is poking you with a sword…it’s hard not to be nervous.

  Being a clever zombie I thought I should be able to figure out a sneaky way by the village without being spotted.

  I took a step forward. Then I heard a bunch of voices:

  “Look there’s that zombie!”

  “Let’s get him!”

  “He’s alone!”

  “We got this!”

  “I hate the way zombies smell!”

  Alright that one really hurt. I’m kind of proud of my smell. Of course there was no time for hurt feelings now. I had to move before the villagers got to me and hurt more than my feelings!

  It looked like my best option was the water. The cold blue water. Instead of swimming in it, I thought that maybe I could make a raft. Truthfully I didn’t even know how I knew what a raft was. Maybe I was a sailor before I became a zombie? Maybe once I ate a brain that knew about rafts? And I’m not sure I actually learned stuff from eating brain. But now that would be cool. Whatever. I was glad my brain knew stuff.

  I heard the voices getting louder which meant they were also getting closer.

  “Man, let’s get that zombie!”

  “No way that zombie is getting away from us!”

  “I love the smell of dead zombies in the morning!”

  Okay, I thought that last one was kind of silly since all zombies are dead or mostly dead. Now are we mostly dead, a little dead or all dead? I thought to myself. I kicked myself! I shouted at myself (in my mind)...

  Zee get your act together man!

  Keep your mind on the subject!

  I noticed a big long thick brown branch or tree section laying on the ground. It looked to be the perfect size for me to stand on and use as my raft. I still had my two useful sticks and I could use one of them as an oar. Man, how did I know that word? It’s kind of a funny word and not the type of word most zombies would use or need to know.

  “Get him!” I heard behind me. They were really close.

  Oops all this thinking had slowed me down a bit too much. The villagers were closing in on me. I turned my back to them. Yeah normally that wouldn’t be a great fighting move. But I wasn’t going to fight. I was going to run. Being a bit scared I let out a fart! When I say let one out, I mean I let one rip.

  It was loud a PPPPPPPPPPFFFFTTTTTTHHHHH!

  The angry attacking villagers became angrier, but stopped attacking. They all stopped in their tracks and dropped their weapons so they could use their hands to cover their faces.

  “Aaarrgh!” one shouted.

  “UG!!” another cried.

&n
bsp; “I’ve never smelled anything so horrid!” one exclaimed.

  I moved my legs as fast as I could towards a log. I grabbed the log and dragged it into the water. I stood on the log. I waved goodbye to the still gasping villagers.

  I fell into the water.

  I got back on the log this time just lying on the log. I used one of my sticks to paddle away from the shore and the angry villagers…towards to the land on the other side of the water.

 

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