Zombie Panic In Wonderland Plus Cracked Feet
Vanina Mazzillo
Not because I was alone and scared in a unnatural place outside reality; that old fear was all too familiar. And not because of the mounting pain either, the echoes from brainmath not three hours ago, the dull ache in my diaphragm and my weak unsteady legs, no borrowed crutch for support now. Not the pervasive gloom, the way my eyes stung from squinting into the dimly-lit corridors of the ugly castle-thing, as I scurried and stumbled away from the sounds of zombies shuffling through the passageways behind me.
Not a natural orifice in the flowing, disgusting structure of the place, but a wound, cut and pulled wide. The cultists had cut shallow stairs leading down, reinforced their tunnel with metal poles, lit it with lamps and emergency chemical glow-sticks taped to the walls.
The slow academic Heather in the back of my mind posed uncomfortable questions to the panicked exterior. What was the chance of me stumbling upon this? Of taking every correct turn in the winding passageways, like through porous bone? I could have ended up anywhere, been caught, or lost, or wandered forever.
At the mouth of the tunnel I ripped one of the glow-sticks off the wall and hurled it down the stairs. It bounced maybe fifty feet then illuminated a sharp turn. I pulled off another and held onto it, clutched the chisel tight in my other hand, and took the first step down.
At first a few scraps of distant green crept like buried creepers of mold. Then whole sheets flowed in frozen waves up through the dead rock, shot through with deeper, darker branching structures of viridian.
Immediately I wanted to go back, wanted to leave, wanted so very badly to not be here. Whatever was down here, I could no more break it than I could break the Eye. I was shivering all over, barely daring to breathe lest the place itself heard me.
I bit down on a yelp and spun in surprise, chisel and glow-stick thrust out, as if they could protect me from anything that might lurk down here. And there she was, a little way down the metal walkway, peering around a column of dark jade.
After a moment we both pulled apart, as if by mutual agreement. Lozzie held onto my hands and swung our arms together from side-to-side, like we were a pair of schoolgirls standing in a playground. She lit up in a huge smile.
It was her. No doubt about it. The same fey, elfin little face, underneath the fear and the abuse. I could worry about dreams later, Lozzie was here and now, with me, in this, together. I needed to deal with it.
Lozzie and I held hands as she led us creeping back along the metal walkways. The pulsing green-gold light lent her face a sickly, contagious pallor, turning her into a half-starved plague ghost. I must have looked terrible too, twitchy and frightened and doing a bad job of hiding my fear. We made quite the horror-movie couple, a pair of scrawny, unhealthy apparitions one might encounter in a dark, forbidden place.
The platform in the depths was not a big place. Not grand, except for the surroundings of the vast cave. At one end of the platform a stout metal table faced the void, complete with restraints to hold a person and channels to collect spilt blood. It was covered in dark stains. A helmet made of copper was anchored to the head of the table, and inside I could see little patches of scalp and burned hair. A thick cable of bare copper and woven rope descended from the helmet, led off the side of the platform, into the void below. A triple-layered magic circle in stark clean white ringed the table, surrounded by the ghost images of dozens upon dozens of old, partially erased circles.
Lozzie and I both screamed and jumped, grabbing at each other like small frightened animals about to clamber over themselves to get away. A heavy hand twisted against the railing, a long coat whipped through the air. Boots hit the metal in front of us.
I've been up around the stratosphere
At thirty-one thousand feet
I'm gonna fly on out of here
On wings that you can't see
If you're gonna fly high without fear
You're gonna have to learn to love the atmosphere
And you gotta learn to use those wings
You can't see.
I've been treading on the mountains of the moon
on a weekend wind
I've been lookin out for life on Mars
Ground control to Major Jim.
All these things could be yours too
If you just take another point of view
Everybody's got a pair of wings
They can't see.
I don't need no runway
I've got fuel here in my bong
I can buzz the treetop flyer
Level all day long
Now I'm looking down on tiny cars
Tiny swimmers in the water and tiny beach bars
And all because of these wings
You can't see
And maybe if you open up your mind
You might learn some things.
God only knows what you might find
Floatin' on those wings.
You can try to fly away from all your problems
I'm here to say that ain't the way to solve them
I can only help you with your wings you can't see
You have wings
Look and see
Silver wings
Like Merle and me
Come on up
To cloud 9-B
Come on take a little taste of freedom
High up in the cloud-lined kingdom
Take a little trip on wings
That you can't see
Just like Santa, I come around once a year
Time to break out all of your party gear
There'll be a jump up out on the lawn
Just look for those fins
Singin' along with your favorites once again.
And it's a big time under the big top
There's nothin' wrong with that
Rhumba-ing in my flipfops
I'm an assessory in front of the pack
Come on baby, let's rock
The circus has come to town
It's a big time under the big top
Don't you just love the sound.
And it's a big time under the big top
Ain't nothing wrong with that
Dancing the part in my flipfops
Watching this three ring act
Come on baby, let's rock
The circus has come to town
It's a big time under the big top
Don't you love to move around?
Just like Santa I come around once a year
HO HO HO
Time to break out all of your party gear
There'll be a jump up out on the lawn
Just look for those fins
Left right left
Singing along with your favorites once again.
And it's a big time under the big top
Ain't noting wrong with that
Rhumba-ing in my flipflops
Watching this three-ring act
Come on baby, let's rock
The circus has come to town
It's a big time under the big top
Don't you just love the sound?
Love the sound
Move around
Marilyn Monroe did a night shoot in a pool
Posing naked for a Playboy spread,
She was old, but she still was cool
When they wrapped right after midnight
and the crew went to the bar
Norma Jean just did the backstroke
Like she was reachin' for a falling star.
Standing in a tidal pool just East of BaltimoreWatching little blue crabs
Navigate the Eastern Shore
Every bayou, stream, and river
In time runs to the sea
Every tadpole,flounder,and softshell
Feels the choreography.
Now if I was as rich as the Aga Khan
I'd tell you what I would do
Buy every man, woman and child on this planet
A mask and a snorkel too
Then I'd lead that wild migration
Destination Waimea Bay
Then we'd splash our way around the world
Life is just a water ballet
Up around the pole,
Where the penquin patrol
And the scientific gang
Need a cozy place to hang
There's a party in the makin'
And the igloos are a shakin'
At the top of the world today.
Six months of dark's a bummer
So they invent a little summer
It doesn't take much
Just a decorator's touch
In a tropical state of mind
And of course you add some wine
And that's when it's time to play.
So turn up the heat
And chill the rose
Take off your UGGS
And let your metatarsals play
Eventhough the South of France
Is 10,000 miles away
You can turn up the heat
And chill the ros.
The grapes out on the ocean
Gonna feel some kind of motion
You don't want that pink wine bruisin'
When that juice boat starts cruisin'
You need some imagination
To deal with temperature fluctuation
Nobody wants to get burned.
I don't wanna be the last
And I'm surely not the first
But out in the Sahara
A man could die of thirst
So before I left for Africa
I planned for that mistaica
took rose from Porquerolles'
And coffee from Jamaica
So Turn up the heat
Chill the rose
Stretch out on the beach
And let your metatarsals play
Eventhough Le Select
Is 10,000 miles away
You'll survive the desert heat
If you chill the ros.
Now you know that outerspace
Is a very frigid place
There's nothing to sustain us
On the way out past Uranus
IF we're gonna ride these rockets
We need protein in our pockets
And a little wine for the ride.
So if you're looking for adventure
Don't forget about thirst quenchers
Life can be a banana split
It can also turn to shit
And if you're out of tweeter range
And the landscape's gettin' strange
Here's my advice to you...
Turn up the heat
and chill the rose
Take off your UGGS
And let your metatarsals play
Eventhough La Bete Nazelles???
Is 10,000 miles away
You'll survice the summer heat
If you chill the ros
So turn up the heat
And Chill the rose
Stretch out on the beach
And let your metatarsals play
Eventhough the ocean's closin
And there's mountains of sorbet??
We'll survive this global warmin'
If we chill the rose
It's time to go to summer school
Remember what is and is not cool
Oh, summer school
There is a time and a place to act like a fool
At summer school
Get your ass to a beach or at least to a pool
At summer school
Know when to keep and to break all the rules
It's time to go to summer school
The courses are easy and there are no rules
At summer school
Remember what is and is not cool
You need to stay in summer school
This is the time and a place to act like a fool
Oh, summer school
Just know when to keep or break all the rules.