Off To Kill the Wizard (Return to Oz With a Vengeance Book 1)

by Warren Thomas

  "That's the Iron Brigade," the man said. "They are King Scarecrow's personal bodyguards."

  "Oh? So they guard the king and his palace?" she said. "Not the City Guard?"

  "Yes and no," he said. "The Palace Guard defends the palace, while the City Guard defends the city gates and patrols the city, but the Iron Brigade protects the Wizard of Oz." One hand rose up and reached halfway to her right leg, before he came to his senses and pulled it back. "The…um…Iron Brigade is a very blood-thirsty, ruthless bunch. Don't mess with them. They will gleefully chop you into little pieces."

  Chapter 24

  The crowd bumped and jostled Dorothy as she snaked her way toward King Scarecrow. What was the hold he had over them? Some in the audience looked on the verge of frenzy. Others looked stunned. A few even looked on with masks of fear and dread. Mostly, though, they seemed to practically worship their King Scarecrow.

  "I haven't seen anything like this since World War II," she muttered. "Has Scarecrow created a cult of personality like Hitler?"

  Dorothy noticed the people supporting Scarecrow the fiercest were green-clad Ozians. That made sense, since he restored their power over all the lands lost when the last true king died.

  That thought reminded her. Someone mentioned that he married Princess Ozma. And it was an unwilling marriage at that. The fact Ozma didn't sit next to him spoke volumes to Dorothy.

  Dropping her hands to the Uzis, she took them off safety.

  I'm ready to rock and roll, baby, Dorothy thought. A thrill rippled through her, making her shudder. She licked dry lips, heart racing. She kind of felt like an assassin, or worse, a cold blooded murderer. But Scarecrow doesn't have blood.

  Or did he? She'd heard he was using magic to make himself completely human, but failed. She got the impression he was partly, maybe even mostly, human now. If so, then her guns definitely would kill him. Bullets would pass harmlessly through a straw-stuffed scarecrow.

  It isn't like I'm killing a real person.

  Scarecrow was a creature of magic. Indeed, many of the people she knew in Oz of old couldn't exist without magic animating them. But did that mean they weren't people? Or were some kind of puppets? Did they truly have life? Did they have souls?

  Ozian physics didn't play by the same rules as they did back in Kansas. Dorothy came from a world of technology and science, whereas Oz was based on magic. For all she knew, everything was a figment of her imagination and she was really passed out in the attic, slowly freezing to death.

  Does any of it matter?

  The crowd roared again. She looked to find a small family being dragged away in chains – husband, wife, and two small children. Dorothy stared at them in horror. Scarecrow punished children for the crimes of their parents? And those two parents didn't look like criminals.

  Her blood began to boil. He looked so pleased with himself, so smug and full of himself. Scarecrow had definitely changed. He was as wicked as they came. Her old friend had become pure evil.

  Scarecrow had to die, and she was the only one who could or would do it.

  The young beauty stopped being so nice and started pushing people out of the way. She only had eyes for Scarecrow. Everyone else kind of faded away. She watched as he continued to pass judgment on citizens, never listening to evidence for and against, but just making snap decisions. And the sentence was always the same. Sold into slavery, and frequently the whole family enslaved, and their estate divided between King Scarecrow and the accuser.

  Since when is slavery legal in Oz? she thought. Oh, Scarecrow, how could you!

  "It doesn't pay to be rich anymore," a Munchkin muttered to another as she passed by. "The king's agents will accuse you of a crime so he can take it all away from you."

  Now it made sense. Scarecrow and his wicked cronies were lining their pockets by making false accusations against the rich and probably his rivals and enemies. It just made her feel so sad that a friend of hers would commit such atrocities.

  She finally reached the edge of the platform. It stood a good foot above her head. Dorothy couldn't see King Scarecrow that close up. So she moved back into the crowd and toward the lower deck where the men and women petitioning the king stood. It was empty by the time she reached it.

  Dorothy boldly stepped up upon that deck so that everyone in the audience could see her. No one seemed to sense anything was amiss. She just looked like another petitioner.

  But things were very amiss.

  "Scarecrow!" Dorothy shouted.

  He looked startled. It'd probably been years, if not decades, since anyone addressed him so familiarly. His eyes narrowed, and searched her out. Their eyes locked, and pure animosity passed between them. Until he started and leaned back, eyes huge.

  "Dorothy?" he cried. "Dorothy Gale of Kansas? You've come back!"

  The crowd gasped.

  King Scarecrow stood up and walked to the edge of the platform. He looked so pleased. Was that lust in his face as he looked her over again?

  Dorothy noticed that up close his burlap face looked fiercer, even wicked. Red orbs burned deep in the recesses of his cut-out eyes, and his mouth was full of pointed teeth and fangs. His clothes were nicer, but the hat remained the same as she remembered. He still looked mostly the same, though his shoulders were broader, thicker, more powerful looking than she remembered.

  The Wizard of Oz was dressed in green robes of state, and carried a blood-red wand. After a second, she realized it was a foot long ruby or garnet.

  "Look at you. All grown up into a beautiful woman," he said. "I never expected to see you again."

  She quirked a brow, "And I you. But here I am. Back from Kansas, and returned to Oz with a vengeance."

  He tilted his head, a quizzical look on his face. She smiled, so pleased he hadn't figured it out yet. But Dorothy was pretty sure she saw a hint of unease. He didn't know what to think, or how to deal with her. Maybe he even believed all of the hype about her, though she suspected he was responsible for spreading the rumors that sullied her good name. Why should he take all of the blame when he could lay a big part of it on her?

  "Look! Dorothy of Kansas has returned in our greatest hour of need!" King Scarecrow declared.

  The crowd cheered, but not with any enthusiasm. It was a very wary, uneasy sounding cheering. The cheers quickly faded into hushed whispers. But Scarecrow, at least, looked quite pleased. Dorothy waited warily, not sure what game he was playing.

  "Tell us, Dorothy, why have you returned to us?" King Scarecrow asked, lifting his arms for quiet.

  Thank you, she thought.

  Dorothy kept the smile on her face, while she steeled herself for the fight to come. A fight she could very easily be killed in. She wasn't sure her weapons would kill any of the Iron Brigade. Would her bullets even penetrate their steel bodies?

  The crowd grew quiet. Dorothy stepped forward, her Silver Stilettos echoing through the plaza. She had a moment to think, Amazing acoustics. Her hands rested atop the two Uzi submachine guns like they were purses hung on her shoulders. Nothing threatening. Yet, the Iron Brigade moved closer to their king. One and all of the silvery, brutal looking soldiers glared murderously down at her.

  Hot and cold washed through her as she neared the King. She couldn't miss at point blank range with automatic weapons. The Wicked Wizard of Oz will be dead before his tin soldiers can reach me.

  "Why have I returned?" she asked quite loudly for all to hear. Her hands wrapped around the Uzis handgrips, fingers poised above the triggers. "Why, to KILL the Wicked Wizard of Oz!"

  Both Uzis rose up and thrust forward. The young beauty took aim as Scarecrow leaned back, an incredulous look on his face. And then she pulled the triggers.

  Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat!

  The Wizard of Oz jumped around as bullet after bullet ripped through his body. It almost looked like he was dancing. Dorothy saw holes appear in his head, torso, and limbs. He fell straight back, straw and dust flying, as soon as her weapons ran out of a
mmo.

  Ejecting the empty magazines, she had two more ready in her pockets. Slamming them in, she racked the charging handles and then opened up on the charging Iron Brigade.

  Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat!

  Her bullets ripped into their metal bodies. Blood was all over the place. Iron Brigade soldiers were dropping like flies, with the rest slipping and falling in all of that blood on the floor. Dorothy emptied four more magazines before the unthinkable happened.

  Scarecrow rose up from the dead.

  "What the fuck?" she cried, eyes huge.

  "You can't kill me, Dorothy of Kansas!" King Scarecrow screamed with a magically enhanced voice. "Seize her! Give me the evil one, Dorothy Gale of Kansas!"

  Men started to come up after her on the lower deck. Dorothy spun around, pointing her weapons at them. All immediately shrank back, holding up their hands in submissive, warding gestures. So she turned back to Scarecrow and lit him up again.

  King Scarecrow didn't fall back a single step this time. He leaned into her hail of bullets.

  "Holy shit!" she cried. "I'm such a fool! Fire is what kills scarecrows!"

  "Fool! I would've made you my Queen!" he cried, eyes blazing bright red. "Now I'll make you grovel, beg, and crawl before me. I'll make you my slave and personal plaything!"

  A vision filled her mind of him towering above her, while she was on her knees. Naked and pleading for…sex? Dorothy shook her head, desperate to be rid of those depraved thoughts.

  Is it just me? she thought. Or is the entire Land of Oz cursed and making everyone oversexed?

  "If you want my sweet round butt in your bed, you're going to have to defeat me!"

  Dorothy charged the platform, guns blazing. She jumped up onto the higher platform and rolled through Scarecrow's legs. He went down again, as she rolled under him.

  Scarecrow's hands tried to grab Dorothy. She squeaked and squealed when he grabbed her left ankle. She kicked free, and slapped an Uzi across his face. Then an Iron Brigade soldier grabbed her, lifted her high, and slammed her to the platform.

  Her Uzis went in different direction, and the air exploded out of her lungs. She sucked in air desperately, head filled with visions of being paraded around naked on a leash and collar. Of being on all fours while Scarecrow sated his lusts upon her helpless body. Of kneeling before the, evil wizard and sucking him off.

  "I hate my dirty brain," she gasped out. Noticing Iron Brigade soldiers about to pick up her Uzis, Dorothy pulled both pistols. "Don't touch my shit!"

  She opened up on them. That was when she realized shooting the Tin Men soldiers actually killed them. They bled like real people. And they were going down and not getting back up like Scarecrow.

  "Scarecrow, I'm going to BURN you to the ground!"

  Dorothy holstered her pistols and raced for the first Uzi. She snatched it up on the run, and turned sharply to go after the other. Bad move. She'd forgotten she was wearing five inch stilettos. Dorothy went down hard, but she rolled right back to her feet and took off running.

  "Ouch, that hurt," she muttered through clenched teeth. She opened fire on the remaining members of the Iron Brigade. "Die!"

  Silvery steel soldiers converged on her. Dorothy was impressed that they didn't run. Such bravery! But they closed too fast for her to shoot them all.

  "Ugh!" she grunted when one slammed a spear down across her shoulders. The pain was exquisite. She dropped to a knee in pain, but spun on it, and brought her Uzi to bear. "I said DIE!"

  Ratta-tat-tat-tat! Ratta-tat-tat-tat!

  Another Iron Man grabbed her hair, yanking the young beauty to her feet. Then he slammed a fist into her back over her kidney.

  "Ugh!"

  "Hold her!" Scarecrow command. "Dorothy is mine!"

  Suddenly, she was surrounded. They wrestled the Uzi from her grip. Fists struck her from all sides.

  "Ugh! Ugh!" she cried, the pain consuming her. "Ugh!"

  Blackness crept in from all sides. They punched her in the belly, the back, and the head. One of them even used her tits like speed bags for a moment.

  "Stop," Scarecrow said.

  Dorothy barely hung onto consciousness. One of the Iron Brigade held her up with his arms hooked through hers. She hung limply, legs unable to support her. Her head hung forward, bloody drool dripping out of slack lips. Scarecrow stepped up close, yanked her head up by her hair, and forced her to look up at his triumphant face.

  "Welcome home, Dorothy. I'm going to enjoy owning you, body and soul."

  Chapter 25

  Scarecrow stood before her. Dorothy could see a dozen bullet entry and exit points on his arms, legs, head. Yet, he still lived, while she never felt so battered and achy.

  "This sucks greasy balls," Dorothy rasped out.

  Scarecrow stroked her lips with his blood-red wand. "You will. The Iron Brigade has very greasy balls."

  She looked around at the closest Iron Brigade soldiers. None of them looked the least bit horny. They just looked angry and vengeful.

  "Uh-oh."

  "Uh-oh indeed," King Scarecrow said. "Strip her. I sentence Dorothy the Assassin to a public caning, and then she will be cast into ignoble slavery!"

  The crowd cheered. She looked out over them, at all of the viciously jubilant faces. She tried to free them, yet they relished her defeat. Their fevered eyes showed that they looked forward to watching her punishment.

  Her Uzi submachine guns lay on the floor not too far apart. Even better, they'd failed to completely disarm her. She still had both pistols and the katana. While the sword was probably useless against men constructed of iron, firearms did kill them. The sword might actually be more effective against Scarecrow.

  "You won't get away with this, Scarecrow!"

  "Funny. That's what Glinda said as I sank my fangs into her throat, and she has served me eagerly and quite wickedly for a long time," he said, moving closer as his right hand began to glow black.

  Dorothy did a double-take. How did something glow black? Yet, there it was before her eyes. Her throat tightened. Her heart hammered. No visions this time, just stark fear and dread. Then the unthinkable happened.

  Her arms were released and the soldiers moved back one step. She had no doubt her old friend planned to do something truly evil to her with his magic.

  "Hope you don't mind if I ruin your little celebration, old friend," Dorothy said through clenched teeth, eyes narrowing. He paused, just before his eyes fell to her pistols. "Oopsy."

  Pulling a pistol with her left hand, Dorothy drew the sword with the other. That razor sharp blade sliced off the Wicked Wizard of Oz's glowing hand. Scarecrow held it up and gawked at the straw-stuffed stump.

  "I'm going to shred you!"

  Before she could put an end to King Scarecrow once and for all, the Iron Brigade closed with her. Dorothy was forced to defend herself with gunfire and swinging sword. As expected, the sword proved ineffective against the Iron Men. She sheathed it and snatched up an Uzi.

  That turned the tide. The Iron Brigade started to fall back. She thought the victory was hers when she regained the second Uzi, but more Iron Brigade soldiers came charging onto the stage. About thirty more.

  "Dammit. I'm out of here," she cried, firing until both machine guns' charging handle locked back, empty.

  She was out of magazines for the Uzis in her pockets. There was more ammo in her knapsack, so she slung them over her shoulders, pulled both pistols, and jumped back onto the lower deck. The crowd gasped and cringed back. Brandishing her weapons, she charged into the crowd. It opened up like Moses parting the Red Sea.

  "I'm not through with you, Scarecrow!"

  Dorothy was forced to change directions a dozen times while plowing through the crowd. So when she finally broke into the open, she wasn't sure where she was. The city was no longer familiar to her. And then suddenly there were the inner walls and an open gate.

  "Run for your lives!" she cried, running as fast as she could while so burdened with hea
vy weapons. "It's Dorothy of Kansas come back to destroy us all!"

  The City Guard passing through the gate blanched and looked past her with worry. She grinned and ran unopposed through the gate. And then she found herself in unfamiliar streets. Narrow, dark streets full of trash and homeless looking men.

  "The ghetto?" she whispered, slowing to a fast walk.

  People stopped paying attention to her when she stopped running. So she slowed to a normal pace, while trying to act normal. It wasn't easy to pull off while huffing and puffing.

  "Nick's Naughty Nymphs?" she muttered, stopping to read the sign over an open door. The structure stood five floors tall. Bright green tiles sheathed it like every other building, with lots of open windows above. Oz still didn't have air conditioning. "I really miss AC."

  It wasn't that hot. Maybe 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Not hot for a Kansas summer, but it was the dead of winter back home. At least she was dressed for hot weather.

  Dorothy started to turn away and continue on when a disturbance erupted behind her. It only took her a second to spy the pointy, silvery heads of the Iron Brigade forcing their way through the streets.

  "Yikes!"

  She rushed through the nearest door, and found herself inside a very gaudily decorated room. Everywhere she looked there were scantily clad to completely nude young women. All very beautiful women. Well-dressed men from every Country in Oz were scattered among the giggling and wiggling women.

  "A cathouse?"

  And there he was. Holding court. Nick Chopper. Her old friend, more commonly known as Tin Woodman. He was staring incredulously at her, with a topless woman on each knee. And then Dorothy noticed the massive meaty rod rising up from between his legs.

  Her jaw dropped.

  Nick stood seven feet tall, with shiny steel "skin" like the Iron Brigade soldiers. His head was pentagon shaped, coming to a point at the top, with a reinforced chin. His body looked massively built, with broad thick shoulders and thick arms. The trunk of his body was made of articulated plates so he could bend and twist. His face was gray flesh, with steel gray eyes, and looked human.