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Authors: Jw Schnarr
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tried to open his mouth again and realized what the weight on top of him was.
He was in a pile of discarded Tin Men. They lay all over him, pinning him down to what was either the ground or other bodies. A pain shot through him and he opened his mouth to let out a weak cry. He had meant to say help me but what came out of his tin throat was only a desperate mewling sound.
“ Who’s there?” the female voice said again.
“ Here,” he said. His voice sounded like sand on metal. “Help…please.”
The woman’s movements quickened and she grunted as she worked. It occurred to him then that this woman was digging her way through the pile.
“ Bang on something, would you?” the woman asked. “It’s hard to find you in this…this mess .”
He flexed his right hand and was aware that he had held on to his axe through whatever had happened to him. He raised it as much as he could and pounded on the nearest surface.
“ Ah, there you are,” the woman said.
He felt a slight movement in front of him and then his eyes were assaulted by an intense white light. He closed his eyes against it so he only caught the briefest glimpse of the woman.
“ Finally,” he heard her say. “A live one.”
He only groaned in response.
“ Give me your hand,” she told him. “Let me help you out of there.”
Blindly, he did as she asked. He offered her his hand, waving it about until she grabbed it. Her hand met his in a surprisingly firm grip. Her hands were delicate, almost bony, and cold to the touch. Even through his tin structure he could feel her chill.
“ You may want to wait for your eyes to adjust,” she said. “You’ll need to watch your step.”
He did as she suggested and allowed his eyes to grow accustomed to the light. When he opened them, he saw his savior standing awkwardly before him. She was standing in a haphazard fashion, one foot poised on the back of a Tin Man and the other between two bodies on some unseen appendage of a third.
Nick looked around and saw that they were standing in a heap of tin bodies. He was essentially standing in a Tin Man grave yard—a scrap heap of sorts. He and the woman stood roughly four feet from the floor, standing on a pile that filled the far wall of a large chamber. He did a quick estimate and thought that there were easily three hundred Tin Men at their feet. There were more further up, past his former position in the pile. He didn’t bother looking back to see their numbers, though.
He was more interested in the woman. She wore a peculiar hat on her head from which a sleek mane of black hair flowed. Her face was petite, her nose and chin rather sharp and her eyes seemed to bulge slightly. The black robe she wore seemed to flow over the bulks and shapes of the fallen Tin Men like oil.
“ Where are we?” Nick asked the woman.
“ Emerald City. This is one of the Wizard’s warehouses. Although—and please don’t take this the wrong way—I can’t imagine why they kept all of you. It’s been years since that damned road was built. And if they couldn’t find a use for you after that, you’d think they would have just scrapped you.”
“ What are you talking about?” he asked as they slowly and carefully made their way down the heap of bodies.
“ The way I understand it, all of you,” she said, waving her arm wildly around the room, “were defects. The transformation from man to Tin Man didn’t completely take.”
He thought about this for a moment and nodded. “I remember bad dreams. We…we slaughtered a Woodkin village. And then there was a magician with a crystal ball and I — ,”
“ Yes, yes, ” she said. “I have spoken with the Wizard about this. I told him I was in need of someone or something to assist me with clearing out a new property within the woods. For a fee, he let me come back here to see if any of you were still in working order.”
“ And I’m the only one?”
“ Who knows? But you were the first one I found. The
He was in a pile of discarded Tin Men. They lay all over him, pinning him down to what was either the ground or other bodies. A pain shot through him and he opened his mouth to let out a weak cry. He had meant to say help me but what came out of his tin throat was only a desperate mewling sound.
“ Who’s there?” the female voice said again.
“ Here,” he said. His voice sounded like sand on metal. “Help…please.”
The woman’s movements quickened and she grunted as she worked. It occurred to him then that this woman was digging her way through the pile.
“ Bang on something, would you?” the woman asked. “It’s hard to find you in this…this mess .”
He flexed his right hand and was aware that he had held on to his axe through whatever had happened to him. He raised it as much as he could and pounded on the nearest surface.
“ Ah, there you are,” the woman said.
He felt a slight movement in front of him and then his eyes were assaulted by an intense white light. He closed his eyes against it so he only caught the briefest glimpse of the woman.
“ Finally,” he heard her say. “A live one.”
He only groaned in response.
“ Give me your hand,” she told him. “Let me help you out of there.”
Blindly, he did as she asked. He offered her his hand, waving it about until she grabbed it. Her hand met his in a surprisingly firm grip. Her hands were delicate, almost bony, and cold to the touch. Even through his tin structure he could feel her chill.
“ You may want to wait for your eyes to adjust,” she said. “You’ll need to watch your step.”
He did as she suggested and allowed his eyes to grow accustomed to the light. When he opened them, he saw his savior standing awkwardly before him. She was standing in a haphazard fashion, one foot poised on the back of a Tin Man and the other between two bodies on some unseen appendage of a third.
Nick looked around and saw that they were standing in a heap of tin bodies. He was essentially standing in a Tin Man grave yard—a scrap heap of sorts. He and the woman stood roughly four feet from the floor, standing on a pile that filled the far wall of a large chamber. He did a quick estimate and thought that there were easily three hundred Tin Men at their feet. There were more further up, past his former position in the pile. He didn’t bother looking back to see their numbers, though.
He was more interested in the woman. She wore a peculiar hat on her head from which a sleek mane of black hair flowed. Her face was petite, her nose and chin rather sharp and her eyes seemed to bulge slightly. The black robe she wore seemed to flow over the bulks and shapes of the fallen Tin Men like oil.
“ Where are we?” Nick asked the woman.
“ Emerald City. This is one of the Wizard’s warehouses. Although—and please don’t take this the wrong way—I can’t imagine why they kept all of you. It’s been years since that damned road was built. And if they couldn’t find a use for you after that, you’d think they would have just scrapped you.”
“ What are you talking about?” he asked as they slowly and carefully made their way down the heap of bodies.
“ The way I understand it, all of you,” she said, waving her arm wildly around the room, “were defects. The transformation from man to Tin Man didn’t completely take.”
He thought about this for a moment and nodded. “I remember bad dreams. We…we slaughtered a Woodkin village. And then there was a magician with a crystal ball and I — ,”
“ Yes, yes, ” she said. “I have spoken with the Wizard about this. I told him I was in need of someone or something to assist me with clearing out a new property within the woods. For a fee, he let me come back here to see if any of you were still in working order.”
“ And I’m the only one?”
“ Who knows? But you were the first one I found. The
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