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Dust-strewn winds lash and scour metal bones of a fallen city in the distance. Surfaces gleam in searing sunlight, the cheerful celestial giant mocking the tortured souls below. Woody perches on a creaking watchtower, thankful for his cowboy hat that kept his vision clear. Only a few dark specks aimlessly trek the sandy horizon –nothing alarming yet.
It’s been three years since the zombie outbreak happened. Woody life before had been great. He owned a toy store, and yes it was a dying industry, but what’s life without some imagination? Andy, his best friend since grade school, shipped off to college for animation. He’d stop by often and it was all clear skies. Until the outbreak. Andy sacrificed himself to save Woody and a bunch of others. Woody swore to the universe or any observing deity that he’d save as many people he could. So far, he’s kept that promise.
Out here, zombies could easily be spotted and slain. Woody managed to rescue some people and build a small town, named after Andy. It’s the least he could do. Maybe his dead friend’s kindness is protecting all of them here at this new haven. Or so Woody hoped.
Glass bottles rattle like wind chimes next to him on the railing. It’s tied to a string. Woody stares over the platform to see a red-haired, action-spurred, down-for-anything Jessie smile up at him. “My turn on watch, Woody!”
The man slides down the rickety ladder and he saluted. “Thanks Jessie.”
Without her guidance and wit their group wouldn’t have made it this far. She refused to live in a bunker any longer, in the claustrophobic dreary gray corridors. That’s no way to live. Especially when her group began to turn on each other. Woody happened to stumble upon their bunker and offered to bring her to Andytown, and they stole a horse and fled, dodging a barrage of gunfire.
Pacing around Andytown Woody noticed some weak points in the defenses. He’ll have to talk to Ham, the group’s engineer.
He steps into the bar and tips his hat in greeting to Paxton and Penny.
The bartender’s dark bushy moustache, red nose, bowler hat, and bald head are his distinguished features. He slides a fresh beer towards Woody. “On the house, Sheriff.”
“Thanks Pax.”
His wife Penny lost an eye but wears a white eyepatch with a flower sewn on it. Her cheerful mannerisms have saved group morale many times (and her talent as a doctor). She’s also in charge of deciphering radio messages when the device rarely worked. She hummed a tune while shuffling through piles and piles of notes.
Sherriff is a nickname given to Woody by Paxton for Woody’s stubborn attachment to the old cowboy hat. “How’s the weather?”
Paxton snorted. “Better than last week. At least the zombies aren’t in a frenzy. But there’s no word of visitors or traders either.”
Woody takes a long swig of beer. His throat is scarred from infernal debris. “I’ll try and establish a trading route. Going out almost every day for loot is too dangerous.”
“I’ll say! Every one of those undead monsters looks like a Picasso painting on drugs!” He pulled a face and Woody laughed.
Night banishes scorching heat. Looking over a list of needed supplies, Woody’s gaze is drawn to the sky when something brighter than fireworks explodes. He stumbles outdoors to get a closer look.
A white-hot shooting star streaks across darkness. It doesn’t vanish over the distance but recklessly hurls earthward. Shockwaves shake Andytown. Recovering from his initial shock he sighed. Great. Let me guess. Is there going to be an alien invasion too?
He knows leaving the shooting star alone would be ignoring blatant danger. The best option would be to figure out what happened. Heading towards the gate he sees the group gathering around with terrified expressions.
Jessie grabbed Woody’s shoulder. “I’ll go with you. We’ll take Bullseye and-”
“No.”
Hurt gleams in her eyes.
Woody smiled apologetically. “They need you here, Jessie. If anything goes wrong I can count on you to evacuate everyone.” He believes in her talent as a brawler. “Ham and Rex will help too.”
Right, the two can be a handful. Kindhearted yes, but there’s always a risk of big explosions. Jessie saluted proudly.
Woody left camp with the only working vehicle they have. Slinky, a cute dachshund with a nifty vest full of bullets and medic supplies happily trots next to Woody.
A tube-shaped structure glints in the distance like a lighthouse. Woody exits the car with Slinky, staring at the rocket doubtfully.
It’s a spaceship. Unlike the ones he sold at the toy store, it lacks any colorful paint.
His lower jaw moved side to side slackly, thinking hard. It’s an illusion right? The zombie apocalypse is finally wearing him down right?
Taking a deep breath, hand resting on his holstered revolver, he got closer.
The door pops open with a hiss. The slab of metal turns into a slope and steam pours out from the rocket. A bulky shadow appears.
It’s no menacing robot or alien but an astronaut dressed in futuristic armor.
Okay. I’ve officially lost it.
Woody exhaled a pained “Huh?”
Slinky barks and jumps up and down.
The astronaut’s stern superior gaze softens with curiosity. He nodded, confirming some theory, and opened his metal wrist gauntlet, talking into the device. “Log one: I seem to have made contact with a sentient human lifeform and his dog. My instruments detect that the air is indeed breathable. This planet mirrors those of Star Command. However, from a glance, I feel like these people lack the tech we do. Perhaps they are in the early stages of evolution.”
Woody balked. “I can hear you, you know. I’m not a caveman.”
“English. That’s my first language. I speak many intergalactic languages, it’s part of space ranger boot camp. What is the customary greeting of your planet?”
Is this guy a nutcase?! Woody stuck out a hand. “Uh…a handshake?” The sun must’ve melted his brains.
The spaceman shook Woody’s hand. “I am Buzz Lightyear.”
“I’m Woody and this is Slinky.” Brown eyes narrow skeptically at Buzz. “Are you for real?”
Lightyear raised an eyebrow as if Woody was the fish out of water. “I breathe oxygen and have a beating heart. Why?”
If it wasn’t for the obvious spaceship he would’ve believed wholeheartedly that Buzz was a lunatic. A man driven insane by the outbreak. The Sherriff has seen plenty of that. Stammering for words, he flailed his arms about. “Because! I just saw a spaceship crash with my own eyes!”
Buzz blinked slowly. “What year are you in?”
“1995.”
Buzz’s eyes gleam. “I am from a similar planet but our people are far more advanced. I’ve studied parallel earths. This must be one, as pointed out on my sonar. We are from the year 2095. I was sent on a very important mission-”
Woody rubbed his face and laughed. “I must be going insane. That’s the only reasonable answer.”
Buzz tilted his head. “My instruments say you are fully comprehensible and not indicating any symptoms of insanity.”
“It’s sarcasm!”
“Really? It sounded like doubt to me.”
Woody sighed. For a futuristic spaceman the guy is pretty dense, or overly polite, Woody can’t figure out which.
“What is currently happening on this planet?”
“A zombie apocalypse.”
Buzz looked shock. In his years studying at Space Command, only a few planets were ever plagued with zombies. Not even his people could manufacture a cure.
“My group and I are looking for supplies, traders, and other survivors. You landed close to our camp. Want a lift?”
Lightyear looked back at the car and back at Woody. “Can that thing even fly?”
“We don’t have flying cars…”
Buzz nodded. “I shall go with you. As a space ranger it is my duty to help those in need.” He pressed a few buttons on his gauntlet and the ship blended seamlessly into the background.
“Great,” Woody is already tired of his lengthy gusto. “Let’s go.”
The astronaut tapped his knees absentmindedly. He wanted to thank Woody for his hospitality, but his host is visibly seething.
Slinky doesn’t seem to care and is happy to just meet another friend, prodding Buzz with his nose. Buzz laughed. Back home, people only had robot pets.
He hopes that this earth has plenty of supplies to help him repair his ship…
Everyone is captivated by Buzz. He humbly accepts their questions and answered them. The others quickly forget Woody’s existence.
What a showoff!
Glass bottles explode into flames with lasers. Even an irritable Paxton is cheering. Woody scoffed, “Any Molotov or grenade can do that.” But his complaints land on deaf ears.
Jessie, who Buzz felt his face burn from her sweet voice, asked him if he can fly.
Promptly posing like a superhero, Buzz pressed a button on the armor and wings unfolded from his armor. Jets expel fire and propelled him into the sky. The group cheered.
Even Woody can admit that that’s cool and useful, but jealousy’s serrated teeth latch onto his heart.
Ham, who disliked anyone intervening in his ventures, was floored by Buzz’s knowledge. Indirectly, his friends were pushing Woody further and further away, mentally and physically. Like some broken toy tossed on a dusty shelf, left to be forgotten.
What a marvel! What a gift to humanity! Buzz is paraded around like their savior. Nobody asked Woody for advice anymore, only for him to complete some senseless tasks.
If anyone asked him a question in their meetings he’d solely mumble a useless response. It’s not like they were paying attention anyway.
The Sherriff finds solace with Slinky and Bullseye –the only beings at camp who hadn’t forgotten his existence. Slinky naps in a cozy corner of the stable while Woody feeds the horse some carrots from the garden. He pets the beast by the ear and smiled. The morning silence is peaceful. And, there’s no applause about the space ranger.
“Woody! Have you seen Buzz?!”
He sighed. He spins around to see a frantic Jessie. “Yes. Every day for nine weeks straight. And the statue that Ham built of him.”
“Woody, this is serious! Nobody’s seen Buzz for hours,” Jessie’s eyes shine with concern. “Please. Can you look for him?”
Grabbing a pail he started dragging it to the well. “Why should I?”
“What?”
Woody spared her a blank glance. “He’s Buzz Lightyear. Man of the hour. Laser-blasting, levelheaded, flying, action hero space ranger! He’ll be fine.”
The others started to look for Buzz and are startled by Woody’s grudge. “Just because he’s a spaceman doesn’t mean he’s invincible, Woody. What if he’s hurt? Or stuck somewhere?” She asked.
Woody’s back is to her and every point stabbed him straight through. His knuckles are white as he grips the lip of the water pail. He says nothing, hoping the scorching stares and remorse would fade on its own.
“Are you really going to leave Buzz? Isn’t he one of us?” Rex asked softly.
“Yeah. He really helped us out,” Ham added.
“Why’re you so tense? Did something happen?”
Woody opened his mouth but quickly clamped it shut. They wouldn’t understand. They all love Buzz.
“Would Andy have left Buzz in danger?” Paxton’s words made the Sheriff visible disintegrate, like a bullet lodged in flesh and bone.
No. He wouldn’t.
“Why can’t you go Jessie?”
Nobody needs me.
“Because. Buzz shut us out. Even me.”
Even Jessie? The astronaut was smitten with her since he arrived in Andytown.
“He got sad and,” she tugged her braid sadly. “Looked heartbroken.”
Woody sighed and looked at her. “Okay. I’ll go look for Buzz.”
Not a single soul is around the rocket ship. So Woody decided to go into the rotting cityscape –a place he hadn’t been to since Andy’s untimely death. Ham said that Buzz’s gear jams some wave signals, so taking a malfunctioning radio, Woody looks for the lost space ranger.
A big supermarket? Why’d he be here? Most of them are looted entirely, like vultures to a carcass. Woody draws a bat close to him instead of the revolver and looks through a window. There’s some movement, clearly zombies. And there are three floors. He can’t afford to be reckless. Woody enters through a door, carefully stepping over broken glass.
A decaying stench hits Woody’s nose. Grey-green bodies sluggishly move from aisle to aisle aimlessly. Six zombies total on this floor. The rest are decomposing. Woody took one big step, waited, and takes another big step. The shelves bob up and down in his vision as he never strays from the undead.
Up a flight of stairs he finds a path of zombies lying in a line like dominos. Smoke rises from their bodies, all scarred from what looks like a laser. Buzz is here. A lot of useless junk is scattered on tile so Woody carefully sidesteps it while swinging his bat at any zombie that’s too close.
He sweeps the floors thoroughly and on the second floor of a department store, he found a horrifying thing. A dead body. Specifically, a body that looked almost identical to Buzz’s. Some of the armor is missing and the glass is obscure by dark blood. Woody held his breath, kneeled, and rubbed the blood away.
Thank God. It’s not Buzz.
But what’s another space ranger doing here? It makes no sense!
Traveling up a claustrophobic stairwell to the roof, Woody clocked three zombies as he climbed. You’d think his lanky build would help, and all the running he did during the outbreak, but he’s still out of breath! At least he doesn’t have a twisted ankle. It’d be a game over. No matter how athletic a person is, even a small wound can be deadly in a zombie apocalypse.
A door greets him at the top. It isn’t locked or barred. Turning the handle he cracks it open just enough to look outside.
The roof is full of zombies.
A few zombies nearly shut the door walking by. At least they’re distracted. Woody sees Buzz at the other side of the roof bravely whacking zombie after zombie. They bite his armor and he merely tosses them. But even a spaceman can’t fight them forever. Woody waves, and catches Buzz’s attention.
Lightyear shouts and all the zombies attack him. Woody takes a deep breath and pushes the door. Zombies go flying. With speedy reflexes he spins, hitting zombies with his bat before drawing his revolver and shooting two. The horde splits, some still attacking Buzz while others ran at Woody.
Using his laser, Buzz slays a lot of zombies. Now that they aren’t all swarming him he can help him and Woody escape. He needs to get out of here and fast! Before Woody gets bitten.
Woody narrowly leans away from snapping jaws and hits more zombies with his bat. He shoots one, leaving three bullets. Inch by inch the sheriff is forced to back away, closer and closer to the end of the roof. He guards with his weapon –but the horde tears it from his grasp.
“Woody! Jump!” Buzz’s jetpack launches him into the sky. He angles slightly and swoops up.
Turning sharply, Woody runs for his life. One mistake could cost him everything. He shoots two zombies in his way and jumps from the roof. The ground approaches in a blur.
He’s pulled up as Buzz catches him. Woody cheers at escaping death. He points the car out to Lightyear and they quickly make their way to it.
In the car, Buzz watches the horde eventually fall behind. They can’t return to camp until the zombies leave. “Thanks for saving me, Woody.”
He smiled sheepishly. “You saved me too. What happened?”
Buzz’s smile dropped and he stared out the window. “I was looking for parts I could use to repair my ship. You guys have been so kind to me, it made me homesick.” The space ranger is stranded in a different world, far from friends and family. And he didn’t get such a warm welcome thanks to all the bloodshed and zombies.
“Your world’s tech isn’t as great as ours, even if I could renovate it, so I might be stuck here forever.”
“Can’t you call for help?”
The space ranger’s voice started to betray sheer sadness.
“I saw another space ranger in the supermarket! That means Star Command will send a search party-”
“No. I’m…I’m exiled.”
“Exiled?”
“I downloaded the other space ranger’s logs. He too was sent on the same mission I was. But it was a trick. Our society is a strict one, and doesn’t accept any failures.”
“Sounds miserable.”
“I must have made a mistake but I don’t know what!”
Woody gave him a smile. “Yeah. You’re painfully honest and selfless. Not like me. You don’t make mistakes, Buzz.”
Buzz gave him a questioning glance.
“I’m sorry. I was a jerk. Everyone likes you so much. I felt like I was being replaced. You have cool zombie-proof armor, lasers, a jetpack, and your helmet even does that whoosh thing! After Andy died, I kind of felt like I had to be perfect and shoulder everything on my own. If I’m not needed or helping somebody…then why am I here?”
“Woody…”
“Turns out, you’ve been going through hell like the rest of us.”
The space ranger had no idea Woody had been suffering silently. “I never meant to replace you.”
“I know.”
Buzz asked, “Who was Andy?”
“He was my friend. My only friend for a long time. He was a lot like you actually. And he…he sacrificed himself to save me and some other survivors. I just…I hoped that I could be like him, that he’d be proud of me. He was a brother and it’s been hard without him.”
Woody let the silence sink in for a while before speaking again. “I’ll help you get home if I can, Buzz. And if you really are stranded here, you’re always welcome at Andytown. I know it isn’t home but…we’d all sure miss you if you were gone.”
Buzz smiled heartily. Yes. Andytown isn’t his home at Star Command, but it is a place unequalled in his heart.