by S. D. Stuart
The only sound, the tall grass rustling in the light breeze, was shattered by a thundering boom from the city.
The cannonball hit the back of the Tin Man and exploded. Caleb dove to one side as the Tin Man was shoved face first to the ground, plowing a meters long trough in the dirt from the momentum caused by the impact.
He watched in horror as the Tin Man stood back up, faced the city, and triggered the ancient hybrid weapon.
Laying down in the tall grass, he couldn’t see what was happening to the city, but he could hear the screams.
He stayed low as he crawled through the grass, trying to stay out of sight and away from the eye of the weapon.
Content with the destruction she had brought down upon her aggressors, she turned her attention a little closer to home.
He could hear the grinding of gears as the Tin Man’s torso twisted, searching the field for him.
Chapter 38
Caleb shuffled through the tall grass on his hands and knees, staying as low as he could so as not to be spotted. He thought of his ancestors in the African plains, crouching in the dry grass, stealthily sneaking up on their prey. Only he wasn’t the predator this time. He was the prey, struggling not to be discovered.
He stopped every time he heard the Tin Man’s gears stop. He could only move when the sound of the powered suit’s own machinery masked his escape through the tall grass.
His hand nudged a small rock and he looked down. Maybe he could throw it in another direction to draw the Tin Man’s attention and make a break for the temporary protection of the city. Temporary because that weapon could reduce the entire city to microscopic dust in a matter of hours.
He did a double take.
It wasn’t a rock.
It was the brass key.
He snatched it up and clutched it close to his chest, clinging to it as if it were his only hope.
Which it was.
Now that he had the key, he could separate Dorothy from the Tin Man. Another clap of thunder echoed out from another part of the city. After bits of dirt and rock stopped raining down on him, he hazarded a peek through the grass, his heart thudding loudly in his ears.
The Tin Man was facing away from him, and leveling another section of the city.
This might be his only chance. Best not let it slip by.
This time he was the hunter readying to pounce on his prey.
With the faceplate missing, he was able to grip the key in his teeth this time. He just had to make sure he didn’t swallow it.
He took three deep breaths, trying to slow his heartbeat, as the muscles of his back legs tightened.
He sprang out of the grass and landed squarely on the back of the Tin Man.
So, far so good.
He forced the key into the lock at the base of the neck and twisted. The Tin Man responded with a hiss of steam through cracks in the back of the suit. He clung on tightly as the Tin Man bucked around, trying to throw him off. The brass key snapped in half, leaving part of it in the lock. If what he’d already done did not open the suit, there was nothing else he could do now. The key was broken and the lock was jammed.
The muffled sound of Dorothy screaming echoed from inside the hollow Tin Man. It wasn’t a frightened scream or a scream of pain. It was a hostile scream.
The back of the Tin Man popped open, throwing Caleb off.
With the seal on the suit broken, it began the shutdown procedure and leaned forward slightly as every internal mechanism ground to a halt.
Dorothy clawed her way out the back of the Tin Man and spotted Caleb.
She hissed like a cornered animal and launched herself at him, tackling him back down to the ground. He saw the blade in her hand a moment too late as she brought it down to stab him in the heart.
His layered suit hardened from the impact and prevented the blade from piercing him. She jabbed down repeatedly, but each time, the suit protected him. He grabbed her wrist as she slashed at his face, the only part of him not protected by the suit.
“Dorothy stop!”
She struggled against his iron grip. “Let me go!”
“Calm down. I’m on your side.”
Her eyes bulged as she stared down at him, spittle foaming on the corners of her mouth. “My side!? You’re just a pawn. Nero’s pawn. He manipulated you just like he manipulated everyone else. I will not be a slave to him any longer. Not me! Not my father! Let me go!”
He tossed her off him as easily as tossing the covers off his bed each morning. She rolled to her feet as quickly as he sprang to his.
She held the blade in one hand, crouched, and growled like a wild animal.
He shook his head. “You want me to let you go?”
He stepped to the side and, with a flourish of his hand, motioned to the castle. “Fine! Go! But the suit, and the weapon, stays here.”
Her eyes darkened. “And let you have it? I don’t think so.”
She sprang forward and slashed at him with the blade. He deflected her arm each time with his own.
She was relentless in her attack and he backpedaled with each jab and thrust of the blade.
How could she have changed so much? She was not acting like the Dorothy he knew at all. Had the suit pushed her to this in only matter of days? Or had something happen to her during the months they were part?
The Southern Marshal had done something to Dorothy. That had to be it. They had kept her from him for months, not telling him whether she was alive or dead.
And Nero was involved. He had to be.
Nero had been working with the Southern Marshal for as long as he could remember, so it hadn’t surprised him when Nero showed up several days ago claiming to have found the hybrid weapon before losing it again.
It was never simple where Nero was concerned.
He had been so blinded by his reunion with Dorothy, he had forgotten about Nero’s relentless pursuit of power. How nobody, and nothing, would stand in his way until he achieved it.
Maybe she was right. They had all been manipulated by Nero and his quest for ultimate power.
If they had any hope of stopping him, they would have to work together.
But that wasn’t happening right now.
He ducked under her blade again and came up with a solid uppercut to her chin, stunning her and knocking her off her feet.
She hit the ground with a gasp as the blade disappeared into the thick grass.
She lay gasping on her back, trying to catch her breath when he stepped over her and held his hand out to help her up. “I am not your enemy. We will get your father. We will get both of you out of OZ. And we will destroy the weapon. But if we are going to do this, we have to do it together.”
The feral look in her eyes dissolved as she reached for his hand.
He pulled her up and hugged her tightly.
Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry Caleb.”
He stroked her hair. “You had some valid points. I think there’s something we can still do to keep this weapon from falling into the wrong hands.”
Chapter 39
Caleb and Dorothy stood, arm in arm, patiently watching two airships descend on their position.
Before the airships touched the ground, ropes spilled from the gondolas and soldiers repelled down.
Caleb and Dorothy raised their hands in surrender as the soldiers surrounded them, guns at the ready.
Caleb did his best to put the soldiers at ease. “Relax fellas, we’re all on the same team.”
A swift kick to the back of their legs sent Dorothy and Caleb to their knees. Their arms were forced behind them and their hands bound.
“Whoa. That’s a little tight there guys.”
Once they were secured, one of the airships landed in the field and lowered its loading ramp.
The soldier behind Caleb grunted. “Alright, you two. Into the ship.”
As they were lifted to their feet, Caleb nodded to the ground. “Could one of you fine soldiers be a
gent and bring along my helmet?”
The soldiers looked at it, none of them making a move to pick it up.
“It’s part of the special armor I’m wearing. The Southern Marshal will not be happy if it’s left behind.”
One of the soldiers nodded to another who bent down and retrieved his helmet.
As they headed up the ramp, he glanced behind and saw several soldiers tip the Tin Man on its side and begin the difficult task of hauling the heavy suit up the ramp into the other airship.
The trip back to the Southern Marshal’s castle was made in silence. He and Dorothy were forced to sit at opposite ends of the gondola and were discouraged from talking.
Once they landed at the castle, he and Dorothy were split up.
He found himself in the same room where he had been manhandled into the layered suit of armor. His wrists were untied and one of the soldiers tossed his helmet to him, which he caught now that his hands were free.
The soldiers backed out of the room and closed the door, leaving him alone in the room, presumably with guards outside the door.
There was nothing left for him to do but sit and wait.
If he hadn’t been paying attention to the incessant tick tock of the clock on the wall, he would’ve thought it had been longer than an hour before the door opened and the Southern Marshal stomped into the room, frothing at the mouth.
“Where is it?”
He let the look of confusion spread over his face. “I’m sorry?”
“You know full well what I’m talking about. Where is it?”
“Ummm… I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Where is what?”
“There’s an empty space in the Tin Man where the weapon should be. What have you done with it?”
He held his arms up so she could see his skintight armor. “You’re welcome to search me if you like.”
“You think I’m stupid? You won’t have it with you. What did you do with it?”
“What could I have done with it? Your soldiers separated us right away. If somebody took the weapon, you might want to look at your own people.”
“It seems you don’t understand the position you’re in. Why don’t you save us both the hassle of torturing you and tell me where you buried it.”
“I didn’t bury anything. I don’t have what you want. I don’t have the weapon.”
She snatched up his helmet from the chair by the door and felt around inside before tossing it back down on the floor. It bounced twice before rolling into a corner.
She narrowed her eyes at him, looking for any indication he was hiding something. “I’m glad you decided to do this the hard way.”
She spun with a flourish and stomped back out the door. One of the soldiers leaned in and closed the door quietly.
Ten minutes later, the door opened again. Benjamin, Dorothy’s father, wheeled in, his scarf tightly wound around his neck and face, leaving only his eyes exposed, but barely visible below the wide brim of his hat. He mumbled about how cold and drafty it was in this section of the castle.
A guard stepped in with him. Benjamin rotated his wheelchair in place and faced the guard, pulling the scarf away from his face.
“I’m just here to take back my armor. I don’t think he’ll be any trouble.”
“The Marshal has ordered me to…”
“I don’t care what she said. Only he and I know how to properly put on this armor. After the Marshal gets done with him, only I will know how to put on the armor, and that’s how I’d like it to stay. Wait outside.”
The soldier snapped to attention, saluted, and closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone in the room.
He twisted back around with a smile on his thin face. “Best idea I ever had, making the Marshal knight me as royalty in front of everyone.”
His face turned serious. “We don’t have much time. Do you have it?”
“When you first told me your plan, it sounded like a good plan. But that was before Dorothy and I were taken prisoner. You assumed we would be free to move about the castle.”
Benjamin wheeled closer. “The plan is still good. We just have to improvise a little. Do you have it?”
Caleb lifted the couch and slipped the tiny pyramid out from under it. “I smuggled it inside my helmet and hid it as soon as I was alone.”
Benjamin turned it over in his withered hands. “Everyone sure has gone to a lot of trouble for such a small thing.”
“Small, but not insignificant.”
Benjamin held it out to him. “Isn’t that the truth? There’s a compartment under my seat that will fit this perfectly. Strip off your armor. You will wear my clothes and sneak out past the guards pretending to be me. The armor piled in your lap should hide the fact that your legs are much stronger and bigger than mine.”
Now that Benjamin’s plan was in motion, Caleb worried about those they would leave behind.
“Come with us. If you stay, the Southern Marshal will kill you.”
The old man shook his head as he unwound the oversized scarf from around his neck. “My days in OZ have been numbered ever since I arrived. I’ve managed to survive this long, and I think I can survive a little longer. At least long enough for you to get my daughter out of this godforsaken place and back to civilization.”
“She won’t leave without you.”
“The airplane was designed to seat a single pilot with a little extra room for cargo. It’s already a tight squeeze getting you both into it. Even if I could, we would be too heavy and the airplane would never get off the ground. The only hope of getting my daughter out of OZ means I have to stay behind.”
“Then we’ll figure out another way to…”
Benjamin patted the armrests of his wheelchair. “With this thing I would only slow you down. I’m counting on you, Caleb. You have to get my daughter home.”
Benjamin had already made up his mind, that much was evident.
Caleb donned the clothes Benjamin had worn when he entered the room. Once the scarf was wound up around his face and the hat tilted down, unless someone bent down to look, they would not see the fur around his eyes. This crazy plan just might work.
Benjamin secured the pyramid under the seat of his wheelchair and wrestled himself onto the couch, refusing any help. He was proving that his decision was a decision not made from weakness.
Caleb sat in the wheelchair and piled the strips of armor into his lap. Placing them haphazardly around his lap, instead of neatly stacked, further hid the fact that he was not someone who needed a wheelchair to get around.
Benjamin looked him over and nodded approvingly. “There’s just one thing left to do.”
This was the only part of Benjamin’s plan that Caleb was not particularly thrilled with. There were many things about Benjamin’s plan he didn’t like, but this part was the worst.
Benjamin motioned him closer. “I’m a fighter, Caleb. I’ll be okay. Every success is built on sacrifice.”
His heart thudded deep in his chest. “Does Dorothy know about this?”
Benjamin smiled. “Of course not. Now give me…”
Benjamin did not have the opportunity to finish his sentence. Caleb’s balled fist collided with Benjamin’s skull so hard, he heard his teeth rattle before he flopped unceremoniously off of the couch and onto the floor, unconscious.
For a moment, panic shot up his spine as he thought he might’ve hit the old man too hard. Then he saw the faint rise and fall of Benjamin’s chest.
He breathed a sigh relief. Dorothy’s father was still alive. He did not want to be the one to kill him.
He bent down and repositioned the old man, trying to make him more comfortable for when he woke up. He was going to have a splitting headache for a couple of days, that was for sure, but he didn’t need any extra aches and pains from lying there awkwardly on the floor.
As he adjusted the old man, he spoke softly to him. “I don’t think we can ever repay you for everything you’ve done to h
elp us. Thank you.”
Back in the wheelchair, Caleb banged it against the door. A guard started to open it when he shoved his way through, mumbling about how cold it still was on this side of the castle.
The other guard jumped out of his way before he rolled over his foot. He wheeled past them and around the corner.
Once out of sight, he abandoned the wheelchair and ran for the secret passage that would lead down to the airport hangar.
Was that the first left and then two right turns to get to the corner with the secret panel? He tried desperately to recall the directions hastily given to him when he skidded to a halt.
The pyramid!
He had left it in the wheelchair. He was so worried about getting away, all he could think about was how much faster it would be to run rather than use the wheelchair.
He spun back around and rounded the first corner back to the hallway where he had abandoned the wheelchair.
He collided with a soldier running the other way. They both went down hard, the soldier’s rifle skidding across the floor.
Caleb rolled to his feet, snatching the rifle up at the same time, and brought the butt of the rifle down on the face of the soldier.
Lights out!
He skidded on his knees in front of the wheelchair and yanked the pyramid out from its hiding spot.
He vaulted over the fallen soldier as he ran back down the hallway and took the first left and the next two rights.
And stopped at a dead end.
It must’ve been the first two rights and then a left.
He ran back the way he came.
As he rounded the corner, a loud crack echoed in the hallway and a bullet ricocheted off the corner, spraying bits of shattered stone over his head. He fired two shots from the hip as he ran back around the corner. The soldier at the other end of the hallway responded with two more shots of his own.