Just join the Army Reserves, Greg, Private Brown thought to himself as he tried to smile reassuringly at the guard at the encampment gate. You’ll get great perks and it’ll be cushy work, Greg. Yeah, right.
He thought all this as If I Only Had a Brain played through his mind.
“Anything unusual to report? The other van already passed through without a hitch,” the guard said.
Brown hesitated, and something jabbed into his back, not painfully, but it was a poignant reminder. The Tin Man (as Brown liked to call him) may not say much but he knew how to use that pistol of his. He must have taken it off Vic.
“Nope, standard procedure. Had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting some damned spotted dog that ran into the road in front of me, but everything else went by the books,” Brown said. The pressure on his kidneys eased a bit.
The guard nodded. “We’ll have the van looked at in the garage but I’m sure it’s fine.” As they passed through the gate Brown rolled up the window without being told.
“That was too easy,” the Cowardly Lion mumbled. “I don’t like it. What if he signaled the guard somehow?”
“It’ll all be alright,” Dorothy said, ever cheerful if a little spaced out. “He’s got it under control. He knows all the signals to look for, don’t you?” Brown guessed she was addressing the Tin Man there. He certainly did make sure (with one word sentences. How did he do that?) that Brown knew he was being closely watched for any unusual hand signals or gestures.
“Yeah, we’re covered alright,” the Scarecrow agreed cheerily.
Brown rolled his eyes. The Merry old Land of Oz was getting weirder by the second.
He had to admit they were efficient. When that blasted dumb mutt ran in front of him he’d swerved madly to avoid it. There was an awful ruckus in the back and he ran out to check on the prisoners and Victor. The four prisoners met him halfway to the back. He didn’t know their names and they didn’t volunteer them, so he’d chosen names for them. Like the characters from Oz he decided he couldn’t underestimate them: what their expertise and toughness didn’t get them through their good-natured bumbling would. They kindly allowed him to check on Vic who was out cold but otherwise unharmed, then pushed him back to the cab, hid in the little passenger area behind the driver’s seat, and gave him his instructions.
“Drive to the encampment,” the Scarecrow said as the Tin Man stripped Vic, put the guard in his clothes and buttoned himself into Vic’s uniform. “He’ll walk with you to keep an eye on you while you go to… where ever you go to get uniforms for me and the girl. Then you’ll come back here and we’ll all get in there together. You’ll be our-“
“Own personal Winkie Guard?” Brown mumbled to himself.
“What was that?” the Cowardly Lion asked him, pushing his hand through his black hair. Brown looked at him again. His hair needed a trim and it was starting to look strangely… mane-like. If he only had the nerve, Brown thought, giggling to himself.
“Nothing,” Brown said out loud.
He parked the van in the appointed spot and got out, and the Tin Man came with him.
This encampment was new, close to the outskirts of Portland where there was more room to sprawl out. They had no idea how much room they were going to need eventually. For now the walls were just barricades and razor wire with constant patrols; something more permanent would be needed soon but it served for the time being. They’d built up around an old industrial park and so there were commandeered buildings for medical and the mess hall. A few more served as barracks but they were just four walls, a ceiling and rows of cots that looked like they hadn’t been used since Vietnam. There was a building around back where they kept supplies, including the spare uniforms. Brown guided them in that direction.
So far very few of the other service men and women here knew one another. A lot of these folks were transplants from California bases that had already been overrun, and some reinforcements from Fort Lewis in Washington. But they were from all over. It served the Tin Man’s purposes well; he knew how to wear a uniform and no one suspected a thing.
They entered the building and Brown showed the Tin Man exactly what he needed. Dorothy’s uniform was a little harder to find and one that would fit the Scarecrow’s lanky legs was tricky, but they were still in and out within ten minutes.
“So, I’m guessing you’re going to knock me cold when we get back to the van?”
The Tin man looked at him, not unsympathetically. “Yeah,” he said.
“Lock me in the van?”
A nod from the Tin man confirmed this.
“Well, thanks for not killing me anyway,” he said resignedly, imagining the headache he’d have in the morning, waking up with Auntie Em and everyone standing around his bed.
The Tin Man gave him surprised look, then his expression turned sad. To Brown’s surprise, the Tin Man patted his shoulder reassuringly.
The world had gone mad two days ago, straight to Hell yesterday and today wasn’t looking up. But somehow, having someone out there like the Tin Man who was willing to knock someone cold, but not kill them even though they very well could, to save his friends made Brown feel just a teensy bit better about the whole thing.