The Land of the Dead: Book Four of the Oz Chronicles (19 page)

“Finding King’s only part of it. What about the package? How do you get that to him?”

We had a lot to figure out with only four days left. “Bobby’s got to know more,” I said.

“I’ll try,” she said, but the look on her face said it all. Bobby had given her all the information he had. “What do we do in the meantime?”

“I need to find out more about Fish.”

“Okay, how?”

“An old friend,” I said.

***

Wes sat at one end of the dining table in the banquet hall, and I sat at the other. It was just enough distance to keep us from smelling each other. I hoped it would keep us from trying to tear each other apart.

Lou marveled at Wes’s Throwaway sister Lou. She had heard stories about the woman for years, and meeting her or a version of her was weird for Lou.

“I thought you said I looked like her,” Lou said.

Wes smiled. “When she was a youngster. This is her three kids later. She… puffed up a bit after that. But that’s how she is in my mind, I guess.”

“Ask him,” I shouted from the other end of the table.

Lou lingered on Throwaway Lou’s face just a second longer and then gave her undivided attention to Wes. “We need to know everything you know about Fish.”

“Fish? The kind with gills and fins?”

“No,” I moaned. “Albert Fish!”

He laughed. “Oh. That makes sense. Well, let’s see… you’re asking me to go way back. My uncle was a bit of nut. Into serial killers, believed in Bigfoot, thought Elvis was still alive. Off his rocker, really, but he was fun to be around.”

I cleared my throat as loudly as I could.

“I think he’s trying to tell you to speed it up,” Lou said.

“This is part of my remembering process. I gotta set the mood. Albert Fish, died in the electric chair in… 1936. Convicted of killing six kids, I believe, but claimed there were hundreds. He usually abducted children society tried to hide anyway so he didn’t get caught for years.”

“Sick,” Lou said.

“Yeah, he wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you’d ask to babysit your kids. My uncle thought he was the worst serial killer of them all because he was so meek and mild. He looked like someone’s grandfather. They trusted him. The weird part is that Fish claimed that he was the son of God and by eating the kids he was making sure they made it to heaven.”

“His tools,” I said. Knowing that I would have to shout to communicate with Wes, Lou and I had discussed the questions ahead of time so she could do it for me. The trouble was, she was just letting him babble on about unimportant stuff.

“Do you know anything about his tools?”

“His tools?”

“He always has them with him in the Land of the Dead,” she said. “We thinks it’s a way to beat him.”

“You do, do you?” Wes asked looking at me. “Well, they were called his tools of terror. He butchered children with them. What else do you need to know?”

“Do you know what happened to them?” Lou asked.

“Goodness, no,” Wes said. “Wouldn’t want to know a thing like that.”

“They’re in this house,” I yelled.

“You know that for sure?” Wes asked.

I hesitated. “Pretty sure.”

“Got any idea where?”

“The old man is tied to the basement. He can’t leave there for very long. Oz and I think they’re down there.”

“That’s a big basement. How we going to find them?”

“Well,” Lou said, “Oz thought we could look in shifts. First I gotta move Gordy out of there. He’s in no shape to help with the search. You take the basement during the night. Start in the bowling alley and search every inch of it. I’ll help. Oz will come in during the day and pick up where you left off. I’ll help him, too.”

“When you going to sleep?”

“I’ll sleep when this over.”

“What about Tyrone?” Wes asked. “He should help.”

“No,” I barked from the other end of the table. “We need to leave him out of this.”

“Why?” Wes asked.

I saw Lou put her hand on top of his. “We just think it would be for the best.”

“Okay,” he said. “One question. What do we do with the tools if we find them?”

Lou looked down at me for an answer, but I didn’t offer one. She turned to Wes. “We’re still trying to figure that one out.”

***

The dead boy came for Throwaway June and me late in the evening. I pleaded with him for help. I told him that I thought I knew what I needed to do, but I wanted some answers from him. I wanted to get the package to King, but I didn’t know how. I insisted that he tell me, but he was his usual silent self. He wasn’t offering any help at all. All he did was walk us through another portal to the Land of the Dead.

It was a bright afternoon. We were in the country somewhere. All that there was before us was a dirt road surrounded by woods on either side.

Throwaway June, whose hair was clearly darker and shorter now, grabbed my hand. She obviously didn’t like the place. As pleasant as the weather was, there was an overriding feeling that we could discover something horrible and disturbing at any moment.

We rounded a bend. Tucked away behind a row of plush green trees was a small, two-story house. The paint was faded, and the roof needed patching.

The dead boy approached and stopped at the edge of the property. Throwaway June and I stood beside him not wanting to get any closer to the house. In the most subtle way, he suggested that we needed to go on without him. He rarely looked you in the eyes, but when he did, it meant a lot. He peered up at me and conveyed his meaning very clearly to me. “Go on without me.”

I stepped on the bent grass with Throwaway June still holding my hand. We were half way to the house when we heard what sounded like humming. Turning to our left, we saw Grace picking flowers where the woods met the yard. The old man was nowhere to be seen.

I dragged June over to her and did something that I knew was pointless. I talked to her.

“Grace, you have to find a way to hear me. You’re in danger. You can’t be here.”

She gave no indication that she could hear me.

“Please, Grace, listen. There’s got to be a way you can hear me. This man, Mr. Howard, he’s a bad man. He’s a scary man.”

Still nothing from her.

“Grace.”

I heard a noise from the house and turned quickly on my heels. Throw-way June gripped my hand tightly. I pried her fingers from mine and told her to wait with Grace.

I was tired of this. I could end this. Why else would I be in the Land of the Dead? I was there to stop him, and nothing was going to prevent me from doing just that.

I bolted through the door and found the old gray man organizing pots and pans on the kitchen counter. The clanging of metal and iron was almost deafening. He held a frying pan in his hand and seemed to marvel at the weight and size of it.

“Can’t beat an iron skillet for frying up the fatty meats. The trick is to leave it thick enough to sink your teeth into, but not so thick it leaves the center uncooked. Got to be able to fry it up quick.”

I approached.

“I tell you what. The meat I get from these young’uns is better than your fanciest store bought.”

Close enough to take a swing, I tightened my fists, swung away and passed right through him.

He laughed. “Good thing you couldn’t hit me because you wouldn’t do nothing but tick me off. As you can guess, I’m not a good person to tick off.”

“Neither am I,” I said.

He laughed again. “You’re harmless. Here anyway.”

“I could say the same about you. You should see how pathetic you are in my world.”

“I imagine it’s a lot like you are here.”

I grimaced. I would give anything to pound his brains in.

“There’s really no reason we can’t be friends. If you would just take a minute to think about this, I’m not the bad guy here. I’m offering these children a chance to go to heaven through me.”

“You’re sick.”

“That’s what they always say about men who see things as clearly as I do. We all have a purpose, Oz.”

I raised an eyebrow. He’d used my name, and I didn’t like it.

“My purpose is to save the children from an impure life. Their purpose is to make their families realize that they didn’t love enough. They won’t make the same mistake again. All because of me.”

“You can’t believe all this crap you’re spewing.”

“As much as you believe you can undo what you did to Stevie Dayton and bring back the world.”

“How do you know…”

“The end is the end, Oz. You can’t change that.”

I had heard enough. I turned to leave. On my way to the door, I saw his package sitting on a well-worn coffee table in the living room. I peered over my shoulder to see if he was watching. Fortunately, he was busy preparing the rest of his ingredients for the stew he planned on eating later that night.

I walked over to the coffee table and whispered, “Please, let me do this.” I reached down and my hand went through the package and past the coffee table. I grabbed for it a couple more times thinking it was just a matter of concentration. But, each time, my hand passed through the package as if it were nothing more than air. I reached way back and brought my hand forward with as much speed as I could build, thinking now that it was a matter of grabbing it before it had a chance to become formless. My hand passed through, and I stumbled to the left losing my balance in the attempt. I stumbled and fell to the floor with a bang.

I closed my eyes for just a second to get my bearings. When I reopened them, I was in the Winter Gardens. My trip to the Land of the Dead was over before it started. I shook my head in disgust. I had failed to figure out a way to get the package. It was hopeless. There was no way I could bring it out of the Land of the Dead, and I wasn’t real confident we were going find it in time inside the huge mansion.

I sat up and pulled my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around my shins. We were done. I glanced up and noticed Throwaway June (who actually wasn’t June at all anymore… her hair was darker and she seemed much smaller) holding a wildflower in her hand. All the plants in the garden were long since dead, so it didn’t seem likely that she had gotten it from there.

“Where did you get that?”

The Throwaway’s eyebrows came together in the middle of her forehead and she looked puzzled. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No, I just want to know where you got the flower.”

“She gave it to me.”

“She? Grace?”

She nodded.

I felt a smile form on my face.

DAY 7

EIGHTEEN

“We have a way,” I said grabbing Lou by the shoulders. I was so excited I had the urge to pull her close and plant a kiss on her lips. I could barely contain myself.

A smile crept across her face. “We can get the package?”

“And get it to King.”

“How?”

“It’s the Throwaways. They can communicate with the people in the Land of the Dead, and June brought a flower back with her.” I held it up and showed it to Lou.

She took it from me. “We have a way.”

“Now all I have to do is bring a Throwaway with me to the Land of the Dead, find Fish, distract him, and the Throwaway can grab the package.”

“And King, how do we get it to him?”

“Easy. We find him in the Land of the Dead the next day. The Throwaway just hands it to him.”

Her eyes moved back and forth as she seemed to be playing out the scenario in her head.

“What’s wrong?”

“It just sounds too simple.”

“It will work,” I insisted. “I know it.”

She wanted to believe it as much as I did, so she nodded and allowed an impossible grin to light up her face. It was a beautiful sight. I couldn’t get over how safe and perfect everything felt just being with her, even in this insane version of the world. Lou made everything make sense to me.

“Why you looking at me all goofy?” she asked.

I was shocked by her question. I let go of her and backed away. “What? Can’t a guy be happy?”

“Yeah, but you looked like… you were going to kiss me or something?”

I furrowed my brow and narrowed my gaze. “Kiss you? C’mon, you’re Lou.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t know. I’ve known you since… well, a long time now. You were a dirty little rug rat when I first met you.”

“And you were a pinhead jerk. Not much has changed.”

“Don’t get mad because I don’t want to kiss you.”

She chuckled. “Relieved is more like it.”

“Good. Then it’s settled. Neither one of us wants to kiss the other one.”

She nodded emphatically and crossed her arms.

“Maybe I’ve thought about it,” I said for reasons that are unclear to me. The words just fell out of my mouth.

“You have?” She looked intrigued in spite of herself.

“Sure. You’re pretty.”

She blushed.

“And I like things about you.”

“Like what?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t think we have time for this.”

“We’ve got time,” she said.

“Well, you smell nice.”

“I smell nice?”

“You don’t stink, I mean. Even when you do. You always smell like Lou.”

“Okay,” she said. “I guess that’s a compliment.”

“Your eyes are nice. I like those.”

She rolled her eyes this time. “You’re terrible at this.”

“At what?”

“Telling someone what you like about them.”

I grunted and stepped toward her. “If you really have to know, there’s not much I don’t like about you. I think about you and I smile. I could be in an all out brawl for my life against the meanest monster in this crazy world and the smallest thought of you comes to me and I smile. No matter what happens to me, I think that at least I got a chance to know Lou and spend time with her and, yes, even dream about kissing her.”

Her eyes smiled. “You dream about kissing me?”

“Every chance I get.”

I can’t recall where the distance between us went. I don’t know how my hands found their way to her face. I don’t know why my head moved forward, but it did, slowly, and I was pulling her closer to me. The split-second I felt her soft lips touch mine, my heart slammed against my chest. I knew instantly that she really was my one true love. The longer the kiss lasted the lighter my heart felt. It may be terrible to say, but at that moment, I didn’t care if we ever made it back home. I was where I belonged.

***

That was my first kiss, my first love, the first time in a long time that I didn’t wonder about what horrible thing was going to happen next. Where I was didn’t matter. Getting home didn’t matter. Figuring out the crazy world I was trapped in didn’t matter.

I sat in the banquet room with Ajax at my side. I was so giddy it was hard to focus on what I needed to do. I had to go the Land of the Dead. I had to take June with me, even though she was clearly no longer presenting herself as June. Her face had completely changed. It was paler and smoother. And her hair was black and shorter now. Some of the elements of June’s face were there, but they were quickly fading.

Her appearance didn’t matter. She could be turning into Abraham Lincoln for all I cared. Her ability to interact with the ghosts in the Land of the Dead and bring objects back was what mattered.

I turned to give Ajax some last minute instructions, but he was gone. The banquet hall was gone. The house was gone. I was standing in the middle of the road with June next to me. It was late in the game, but I was realizing that no two trips to The Land of the Dead were exactly the same.

A cool breeze rustled the brown leaves clinging to the almost bare trees, and disrupted the piles of leaves on the side of the road. I scanned up and down the street. I knew this place. I couldn’t recall from where, but I definitely knew this place.

The houses and cars in the driveway did tell me one thing for sure. I was not in the right time period. This was not Albert Fish’s time.

“Hey!” I yelled. The dead boy was not around. We were wasting time by being here. I needed to be back in the Fish’s time so we could get his tools of terror. “Where are you?”

There was no answer. I looked up and down the street and then just started walking. The direction didn’t matter because I didn’t know where I was anyway. I just walked in the direction I was facing.

We reached a side street, and I nearly gasped at the name on the street sign, Westwood Drive. My house was on Westwood Drive. I peered through the trees at the house immediately to my left. It was Donnie Kaye’s house. A kid three years ahead of me in school. I was in Tullahoma!

I felt a mixture of joy and total annoyance at finding myself in my old hometown. It was good to be in familiar surroundings, and if I wasn’t on such a strict timetable I would be running towards my house at that very moment, but I didn’t need to be here, not now. I needed to be where Fish was.

“Where are you?” I asked the empty street again. I felt a tugging on my arm and looked down to discover it was June. She pointed straight ahead. I looked where she was pointing, but didn’t see what she was seeing. “What is it?”

“Stevie,” she said.

I bent my head forward and tried to sharpen my focus by squinting my yes. Finally, I saw someone move through the trees thirty feet or so ahead. He was wearing a yellow jacket and black mittens.

“Stevie,” I called out.

Upon hearing his name, I could see him tense up. I stepped forward and he took off down the street.

“Stevie, wait! How did you get here?” I chased after him with June not far behind me. “I thought I told you to stay with Gordy.”

“Gordy’s mean,” he yelled without turning.

“I know he can be a jerk, but…”

He cut through a yard and dashed through a thin strip of trees behind the house. I couldn’t believe it, but I think I knew where he was going. He was going to Stevie’s real house. How would a Throwaway know this shortcut to Stevie’s house? I guess he could have plucked it from Gordy’s memory banks, but it seemed totally remarkable to me.

Since I knew where he was going, it didn’t seem necessary to follow him at full speed. I was getting winded, and there was at least a quarter of a mile to go. I slowed to a jog, and tried to clear my head. I wasn’t in the time period I needed to be in, so the question was, why was I here and where was the dead boy? It seemed strange to change things up on me now, just when I was so close to bringing down the Flish.

We exited the woods and turned up the street towards Stevie’s house. Visiting Stevie’s house was never high on my list of things to do, but it seemed like I was always brought back here for some reason or another.

I cast my head down and concentrated on my footfalls. When I reached a familiar crack in the street, I knew that when I looked up I’d see Stevie’s house just a block away. I counted to three and lifted my head.

As much as I hoped it wouldn’t be, it was there. I caught the storm door rattling to a close.

June looked up at me and smiled. She had no idea what that house meant to me, and it shouldn’t have bothered me, but I wanted to knock that stupid smile of her face. To my horror, she kept the smile until we were standing at the front door of the house.

“Stevie,” I said.

I heard a door slam, so I quickly stepped through the foyer and stood at the head of the hallway. Every door was open except the door at the very end of the hall. I immediately began to sweat. “The basement,” I whispered.

“Stevie,” I said “we shouldn’t be here.”

A bang came from basement.

I dropped my head and said. “CRAP! I am so tired of having to creep through dark basements. I’d like for once to have to go into a well-lit, completely un-scary room.”

I slinked down the hall with June tagging along. Reaching the basement, I placed my hand on the door knob and said, “Come on, Stevie. Please don’t make me come down there. Just come upstairs and we’ll get out of here.”

No answer.

I turned the knob and pushed the door open. The stairs looked like jagged teeth to me. I stepped down on the first one and imagined myself stepping into a monster’s mouth and walking down its throat. The feeling stuck with me until I stood on the basement floor.

“Where are we?” June asked.

“The belly,” I said.

“What?”

“Nothing,” I said. The sound of something scraping across the dirty concrete floor came from our left. Once our eyes adjusted to the dim light, I could see Stevie sitting in a chair and kicking the dirt.

“I’m sorry, Oz,” he said.

“That’s all right,” I answered. “Let’s just go.”

“I didn’t want to make all those bad things happen.”

“What bad things?”

“He said it would make us smarter and everybody would like us.”

My mouth went dry. My legs felt like wet noodles, and I heard a buzzing in my ears. This wasn’t Throwaway Stevie. It was the real Stevie.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Stevie.”

“But I did bad things.”

“It’s not your fault.” I looked above him and saw the pipe that he had tied the rope to when he ended his life. His death was what brought the first Destroyer into our world.

“Dr. Bashir said the bad people must pay. None of us wanted to do it.”

“I know, Stevie. We shouldn’t have been bad people.” I was standing in front of him now. I knelt down. “If I could do it all over again, Stevie, I promise you I would be nicer. I wouldn’t treat you the way I did. It’s not your fault I’m here. It’s my fault. I deserve to be here.”

He whispered, “But not for the reason you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re here because I see the magic in you.”

I smiled and sarcastically said, “Where have I heard that before?”

He looked puzzled. “You heard it from Lou. Do you like her?”

I nodded. “I do.”

He smiled. “I knew you would.”

I patted his leg. “You’ve got good taste, buddy.”

“Mom said I had a knack for drawing pretty girls.”

I looked over my shoulder and looked at June. Seeing her fading face jarred my memory. “Listen, Stevie, I’d love to sit down here with you and chat, but I gotta find…”

“The Flish,” he said. “He made Connie really sad. Dr. Bashir said he had to be in her story. Said he had done bad, bad things to people like us. Tried to do something bad to his great uncle a long, long time ago. Before Dr. Bashir was even alive. ‘Put him in your story,’ he said. ‘He’ll make the other bad people pay. Bad against bad.’”

“Bad against bad,” I repeated and leaned in closer. “How do I get everyone home, Stevie?”

“I once read the story backwards,” he said.

I laughed. “That’s great, Stevie, but I need to know how I can end this. How do I get everyone home?”

“When you read it backwards, it’s not the same. It changes.”

“Stevie, concentrate. How do I get everyone home? You like Lou, right? You want her to find her way home, don’t you?”

He titled his head and was clearly considering my question. “She doesn’t have a home.”

I turned that over in my head. “I don’t understand. What do you mean she doesn’t have a home?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I mean she doesn’t have a house with people in it.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying words,” he said.

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but the words you’re saying aren’t making any sense. Lou has to have a home. She came from somewhere. Everybody does.”