Lost Horizon

by Michelle Hercules

  The first kalidah jumps onto the road, his massive body rippling with raw power. A big knot forms in my throat as I try to swallow my fear down. His claws are so long and sharp they could tear me in two.

  Reo fires at the monster, missing it by a hair. The creature leaps to the side, and it’s joined by its other companions. Not wasting time, I hurl my power sphere at the second one, managing to hit him on the shoulder. I would grin proudly if the beast hadn’t recovered too fast for my liking. With a shake of its head, it leaps back on its paws while roaring in anger.

  Dorothy aims her blaster and fires, hitting the biggest monster square in its chest. The impact sends it flying back, knocking down the third kalidah. Reo’s weapon finally finds a target, pulverizing the monster in the blink of an eye. But when he attempts to shoot the fourth kalidah, the glow in his hand dims, and no blast comes from it.

  The beast he was aiming at charges with his massive jaw open wide. Reo raises both arms, protecting his face from being chewed off. I bring up another energy sphere, but I catch another kalidah gunning for me, so I have to use the shot to defend myself.

  When I switch my attention to Reo again, he has the creature locked in a choke hold. With a fast movement of his mechanical arm, he twists the kalidah’s neck, breaking it with a loud crack. Monkey feathers. How strong is that guy?

  Frantically, I scan the yellow road, breathing a sigh of relief when all I see are the remains of the deadly monsters lying around. The sentiment comes too soon, for, out in the distance, I hear the savage roars of more kalidahs approaching.

  “We have to get off the road,” Dorothy says between spurts of hard breathing.

  Reo glances at the ominous, threatening forest behind us with its gloomy depths of razor-sharp briars and branches. “We must hide in the Razor Forest.”

  A piece of lost memory clicks in place and, with it, the merciless vise of old fear. “The forest is deadly.”

  “We’ll be dead for sure if we stay here. I’m out of juice, and by the looks of Dorothy’s weapon’s battery level, her blaster is about to be just as useless.”

  “Reo is right. I only have a few bars of power left.” She bends over so her robo-dog can jump in her arms.

  “Let’s go.” Reo takes the lead, charging without fear into the legendary forest, which is the source of many nightmarish stories.

  Dorothy and I run in side by side, mindful of the branches of trees in our way. She’s not careful enough though and runs through a seemingly harmless twig before I can warn her.

  “Ouch.” Touching her face with a grimace, she smears blood on her cheek. “What the hell?”

  “Great. You’re bleeding. Let’s leave a trail for the kalidahs to follow,” Reo complains from not too far.

  “You should have warned me about these trees. They’re sharp.”

  “Sorry, I thought it was quite obvious, considering the name of the forest,” he replies.

  “I didn’t think the name was literal,” she shout-whispers.

  I pull a handkerchief from my jacket pocket. One I didn’t even know I had. “Here.”

  Dorothy takes the delicate, cream-colored fabric, brushing my fingers as she does so. Would it be nonsense to believe there was a spark when we touched? Probably.

  “Thanks.”

  Reo, who had already ventured ahead of us, returns with an expression that says we’re about to receive a tongue-lashing. “What’s the holdup? Do you want to be eaten by a kalidah?”

  “Well, I don’t want to be shredded to pieces either.” She meets his glare, not showing any inkling of fear.

  I could be guessing, but I don’t believe the cyborg has encountered many people who didn’t cower before him. One of his eyebrows twitches. Maybe it’s a nervous tic.

  “Fine,” he finally replies. “Stay closer to me, and I’ll help clear the path.”

  “I don’t know why you didn’t do that from the beginning,” Dorothy mutters.

  Reo doesn’t respond, moving now at a much slower pace. Out in the distance, the kalidahs roar, the noise more terrifying than before.

  “Is it me, or do they sound angrier now?” I ask, looking over my shoulder for any sign of pursuit.

  “I take it they didn’t like to see all their friends slain,” Reo replies.

  “Do you know how those creatures came to be?” Dorothy asks.

  “What do you mean?” I avoid a branch that seemed to have come out of nowhere.

  “Back where I’m from, we had bears and tigers but not a mix of the two. Is the new species a natural occurrence or the product of genetic experimentation?”

  I search my useless brain for the answer, but I come up with nothing but a blank page. “I don’t know.”

  “They can’t possibly be a natural occurrence,” Reo supplies.

  “How long have you been here?” Dorothy increases her pace, trying to walk closer to the cyborg.

  “Long enough.”

  While Dorothy is busy staring at the cyborg’s face, I notice a rustling in the leaves of the tree just ahead of them. And then, the tree moves.

  “Fine, don’t an—”

  “Dorothy, look out!” I shove her and, consequently, Reo to the side when a big branch comes swinging straight for their heads.

  The end of the branch brushes my forehead, cutting the skin. If I had been a second too late, I would have lost my head.

  Another branch attacks, catching Reo’s mechanical arm as he lifts it in the last second. “Damn it. These trees are sentient. We have to get out of here!”

  Keeping our backs to one another, we form a circle as we wait for the next attack.

  “They’re moving closer. I can’t see the path anymore,” Dorothy replies, showing her growing alarm. Suddenly, she yells, “No! Toto!”

  The robo-dog whines. When I turn, I catch Toto being taken away by a twisty vine.

  15

  Reo

  “Let him go!” Dorothy attempts to run after her dog, but I grab her arm, keeping her safe from the murderous trees.

  “Stop. You can’t go after your dog. You’ll be killed.”

  “We have to do something. I can’t simply let the forest take Toto away.”

  “It’s just a silly robot. You should be more concerned with escaping this place.”

  Dorothy yanks her arm from my grasp, her fiery stare almost burning a hole through my face.

  “He’s not just a silly robot. Toto is all I have left of Adrian. Who knows if I will ever see him again?”

  There you go with that name again. Whoever this Adrian is, he’s obviously someone dear to Dorothy. But why do I care?

  Another sharp vine slithers closer. I stamp on it, glad my boots are reinforced with steel. I’ve already started my database search for anything related to this forest, but the only information showing on my small screen is generic and unhelpful.

  “Reo, are you sure you can’t make your weapon work just one more time?” Scrawny asks.

  “No. And I can’t find anything useful in my database either.” I grab one slender branch that was sneaking toward me, yanking hard until it breaks off. “If you know anything about this forest, now would be a good time to part with that knowledge.”

  “I do know something, but the memory keeps slipping out of my reach,” Scrawny replies.

  Dorothy abandons her post, giving her back to the dangerous forest to hold Scrawny’s forearms and peer into his eyes. “You can do it. I believe in you. Close your eyes. I got your back.”

  She whirls just in time to swat a reaching branch with the butt of her blaster. Meanwhile, Scrawny scrunches his eyebrows together, clenching his jaw. I know too well that you can’t really force your brain to remember something after a head trauma, but I sure hope he can.

  Minutes go by, and the trees are getting more violent. Scrawny is still in deep thought.

  “Anytime now, Scrawny. Anytime,” I mutter under my breath.

  “Shh. You’ll break his concentration,” Dorothy hisses.

/>   Finally, Scrawny opens his eyes and snaps his fingers. “Aha! I remember now. The forest is angry and sharp. To avoid its deadly talons and wicked bonds, all you have to do is sing her a song.”

  “What nonsense is that?” I ask.

  “It’s a children’s rhyme. To calm down the spirit of the forest, we have to sing to her.”

  “Will any song do?” Dorothy asks.

  “One in particular comes to mind, but there are no lyrics.”

  The large tree in front of us decides to bring all its might down. I won’t be able to protect us from a trunk blow.

  “Start singing!” I yell.

  Scrawny begins to whistle, softly at first, but it’s enough to slow down the tree about to crush us. When he finds his rhythm—and diaphragm—Scrawny’s melody becomes louder. I don’t recognize the ballad, but it’s peaceful, and better yet, it’s working. He could be singing classic hip-hop from Old Earth, and I wouldn’t care.

  Slowly, the trees and branches part, revealing a clear path for us to continue our journey. Scrawny leads the way, and I hold the rear. Sandwiched between us, Dorothy is searching left and right, but there’s no sign of her dog. I switch to night vision since I haven’t been able to locate the cyber-dog using my infrared. It takes me a moment to locate Dorothy’s companion.

  “I see Toto,” I whisper, afraid the sound of my voice will disturb the spell Scrawny put on the forest.

  “Where?” Dorothy replies.

  “He’s stuck between two lower branches of the tree coming up on our right.”

  Without stopping his whistling, Scrawny breaks away from the path of crushed leaves and heads for the tree holding Toto. He touches the sharp bark despite the risk of cutting his palm in the process. Slowly, the branches around Toto’s body loosen up, allowing the robo-dog to slip through, straight into Scrawny’s arms.

  Backing away with measured, slow steps, Scrawny returns to the path and hands Dorothy her beloved dog.

  “Thank you,” she whispers so low that I can only hear the first word with my enhanced senses.

  The white-haired man nods before he resumes walking.

  “How is the dog?” I ask, feeling guilty for my earlier remark.

  Dorothy inspects the dog’s mechanical body as she walks after Scrawny. “A few scratches on his back and belly. Adrian must have used the best materials available to him.”

  “Who is Adrian? You said his name while unconscious.” I lie to myself, saying I’m merely curious.

  Up ahead, I don’t miss the sudden tension in Scrawny’s back. He also wants to know.

  “He’s my cousin.” Dorothy kisses Toto’s head, making his little digital eyes glow a bit brighter.

  The small tension I had in my chest eases off. I didn’t even realize it was there until the relief came. I clench my jaw and make a purposeful effort to cease all conversation with the woman. She’s turning out to be quite the distraction.

  One thing my system was able to provide in regard to the Razor Forest was how large it was. In another five kilometers, we should meet the yellow road again. It’s not a far distance, but at the snail’s pace we’re going, I’m not sure Scrawny will be able to keep up with his tune.

  Only needing to listen to a song once to be able to replicate it, I join the man. It seems that our combined whistling pleases the forest. The branches and trees move out of the way faster. Dorothy soon joins us. If a stranger were to come upon us and witness the sight, they would surely believe we were a group of kids going on a merry picnic trip down in the forest.

  The image makes me smile, but soon, I remember why I was in Scrape Town, and my amusement wanes. Shutting down the human sentimentality that managed to sneak upon me, I seal away any feelings the woman in front of me has triggered.

  I’m a killing machine, and she somehow managed to purify two of the vilest crystals in the entire Oz. We’re on opposite sides of the morality spectrum.

  After hours of walking, we arrive at the end of the forest. The soft glow of the yellow road ahead is a relief. My lips were already going numb from the whistling.

  As soon as my feet are on the translucent road, I open and shut my mouth, trying to get rid of the kink.

  “Ouch, I think I’ll never attempt to whistle again.” Dorothy rubs her lips, and my eyes zero in on them in an instant. She catches my stare, and immediately, there’s a storm in her eyes. “What?”

  “Nothing.” I hastily switch my gaze to the road. “We should try to find a place to rest.”

  “Are there any kalidahs or worse monsters in this area?” She hugs Toto tighter against her chest.

  Scanning our surroundings as far as my vision allows, I reply, “I don’t see any, and I can’t pick up on their scent either. As far as predators go, we’re safe. There’s an orchard just after that bend in the road. We can rest there.”

  “Is that orchard owned by someone nasty?” she asks.

  “No signs of living creatures for miles.”

  “So, is Munchkin country not that populated?”

  “Not really. They’re mostly farmers. That’s why the Red Witch so easily gained control of the area,” Scrawny replies.

  “I see you’re recovering your memories already.” Dorothy peers at him with a tentative smile.

  “Somehow, I don’t think the beating I took from those ruffians was what caused my memory loss. I suspect it’s a malady that I already suffered from.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Knowledge comes and goes at will, it seems. Like that handkerchief I gave you for instance. How did I know I had it in my pocket? Or the information about the Razor Forest. How did I know it was a dangerous place?”

  “About your handkerchief … I’m sorry, but it’s all stained.” Dorothy gives back the wrinkled piece of fancy fabric to Scrawny, but the emblem I see embroidered on it draws my attention.

  In one stride, I’m in their personal space, taking the cloth from Scrawny’s hand.

  “Hey. Rude much?” Dorothy flattens her palm on my chest and attempts to push me off.

  I relent and take a step back as my system works to bring my heartbeat to normal. It was one simple touch. What’s going on? Shoving the inconvenient glitch to the side, I inspect the symbol. It is as I thought. Scrawny is no mere alchemist. He’s a member of the royal Emmerlin family.

  “What is it? Why are you staring at the dirty handkerchief like that?” Dorothy peers closer at the accessory.

  “You’re a royal of Emerald City.” I hand back Scrawny’s possession to him.

  The poor guy seems more confused than ever as he stares at the handkerchief in his hand. “The symbol. Yeah, I think you’re right. But, if I’m a royal, what was I doing in Scrape Town?”

  “That’s a mystery we all would like to know,” I say.

  16

  Kevvan

  The scraping of the metal door sliding against the stone floor sounds far away. Or maybe I’m too exhausted, too beaten to care. I’ve lost count of how many days I’ve been hurled in this hole deep down in the mines. It could have been weeks or months. After the first day of endless torture, time ceased to have meaning to me.

  I’m on the cold floor, curled in a fetal position, resting on my own filth. My matted hair covers my face, but it wouldn’t do any good to push the strands off. I still wouldn’t be able to see much in the darkness.

  “Monkey feathers. What is this stench?” a woman asks from the entrance of my cell.

  “He’s been here since he attacked Manko,” a guard replies.

  “I expected this specimen to be kept in better conditions. I can’t transport him when he smells like he’s decaying. He’ll stink up my airspeed beyond repair.”

  “I’m sorry, Colonel. We were just following the overseer’s orders.”

  Footsteps approach before a boot nudges me on my side.

  “Are you alive there? I didn’t come here to remove a corpse.”

  Annoyed now with the noise, I lash out, grabbing the woma
n’s ankle with the little bit of strength I have left. With a yell, she hits my arm with a metal rod, proceeding to kick my rib cage when I let go. I was struck so much during my captivity that I barely feel the blows anymore.

  “Stupid slave scum,” she spits. “If I didn’t have orders, I’d leave you here to rot.”

  The guard snickers before adding, “I thought you were supposed to bring him in one piece.”

  “A couple of more bruises won’t make a difference. Make sure he’s clean and wearing presentable clothes when you bring him up. I want to depart in thirty minutes.”

  As soon as the woman leaves, the guards call for assistance. Shackled as I am, I’m unlikely a threat to them. Even so, four human guards come into my cell and lift me up. I can walk on my own, but knowing they’re all nauseated with my filth, I make sure to lean on them for support.

  They bring me to a metal chamber with bright lights that makes me wish for death. I’ve been inside a dark cell for too long. The brightness hurts more than normal. My uniform was already in rags; it doesn’t take much effort from the guards to strip me off. They douse me with a pressured water spray as cold as an ice blast. It stings everywhere it hits.

  Someone hurls a piece of soap my way without warning. I catch it midair, proving that my cat reflexes are still sharp.

  One round of cleanup isn’t enough to get rid of all the grime I’ve accumulated. The guards repeat the process until the water running down the drain is no longer murky. Then, they throw clean garments in front of me, immediately soaking them when they hit the wet floor. Assholes. The clothes are too small anyway.

  “Did you run out of regular-sized uniforms?” I ask.

  “It’s what we got. Make do.”

  Knowing I can’t be going to a place better than this, I put on the shirt meant for a munchkin. It barely fits through my head, but when I try to slide it down my torso, it rips in two. I’d laugh if I wasn’t feeling dead inside.

  One of the guards curses before he walks out of the room.

  “I can always parade naked.” I toss the torn pieces to the side.