Délon City: Book Two of the Oz Chronicles

by R. W. Ridley

  We’re killing her because she’s a girl. What did Canter mean by that? What does being a girl have to do with anything? I sat back down in my chair and tried not to think about what had just happened. All these cryptic messages were driving me crazy. Don’t Trust G... Because she’s a girl. My heart skidded to a stop. I didn’t want to say it out loud, but my lips formed the words. “Don’t trust girl.”

  TWELVE

  “You look lost.”

  It was Gordy’s voice, but it was distant, and hollow. I had slept away from the others. The house was a large two-story traditional southern home with a wraparound porch on both floors. I’d found a spot on the deck off the master bedroom that was shielded from the wind. I’d stayed perfectly warm bundled up in a thick quilted comforter. Now I sat in a cushioned lounge chair and stared out into the moonless purple night wondering how Lou could betray me. I was deep in miserable thought when Gordy found me just before daybreak.

  “You look lost,” he repeated.

  I acknowledged him with a terse nod.

  “You mind if I sit?” His hands were buried deep in his pockets.

  He motioned with his head toward the other lounge chair. I gave a simple and less terse nod.

  He sat, shivering from the cold. “You okay, boss?” “Boss?”

  “Yeah, you’re the boss, ain’t ya’?”

  I thought about the question. “I don’t know what I am. I’m

  not sure what any of us are.”

  Gordy shook his head. “Don’t get deep on me, Oz. I just asked if you’re okay.”

  “Are you okay, Gordy?” I snapped. “Do you get what’s going on here? We’re the stars in some cosmic freak show full of monsters that suck the life out of you, and friends who stab you in the back!”

  He sat up in his chair and looked at me concerned. “I ain’t stabbed no one in the back. I swear to god above I’m on your side...”

  “Not you,” I shouted. “Not you, okay.”

  He settled back into his lounger. “Forgive me for assuming it was me. There ain’t much else to choose from...” He looked at me in complete shock. “You ain’t saying...”

  “I don’t know what I’m saying,” I said. “Forget I said anything.”

  He looked at me tempted to keep on the topic, but he slowly let it go. His eyes drifted upward. The sky above us wasn’t ours, but it was beautiful in its own way. We tried not to admire it, but we couldn’t help ourselves. Gordy cleared his throat. “I sure would like to take in a Titans game. I mean the real thing. Not this crazy crap they got going on now.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That would be cool. The play-off picture would be starting to come together right about now.”

  “Too bad we got the Colts in our division,” he said. “That’s usually two losses right there. That only gives us room to lose two or three other games a year.”

  “What are you talking about?” I asked incredulously. “Two losses? The Colts can be had.”

  “Please, with that offense, and the way the defense has been playing the last couple of years.”

  “All you need is a pressure defense...”

  And so we talked about a football season that would never be, played by teams that didn’t exist anymore, working out probable and improbable playoff scenarios, until pretty soon, we were both sitting in my living room watching the Super Bowl on my family’s modest 32-inch TV screen. The Titans had made it of course. Our quarterback position was the excitement of the league. The draft had yielded incredible talent on both sides of the ball. They weren’t supposed to be there. Not one so-called football expert picked them to make it, and now that they were in the big game, they were expected to lose badly. They were playing the Cowboys, and nobody but the Steelers beats the Cowboys in the Super Bowl. (That proclamation had been made by an obnoxious Steelers fan calling into our fictitious sports-talk radio show.) This Super Bowl of ours went on until the purple sun was over the tree line in the back of the house.

  We had talked the strangeness out of our situation; brought ourselves home for a fleeting moment. It didn’t seem like much at the time, but when it was over, when we were forced to get up off the lounge chairs and head downstairs to saddle up the horses, it was the most important conversation we had ever had. Not because it was about football, but because it was about who we used to be, kids. Both of us had forgotten that.

  ***

  Avoiding someone in a four-person caravan on horseback is pretty hard to do. I didn’t want to look at Lou, much less speak to her. But I had nowhere to hide from her. She didn’t seem to be aware of my attempt to shun her. She would start up various conversations with me, and wasn’t concerned by my one-word replies. The more she talked the less I believed Canter. She would never betray me. We had been through too much together.

  Still, she had spent a lot of time with Roy and Reya, and she looked no worse for the wear. In fact, she looked better than I had ever seen her. I can’t image that the general and his Délon sister were very hospitable hosts. Why hadn’t they turned her into a Délon?

  “Wait a minute,” I whispered to myself. I turned and looked at Lou carefully. Maybe she was a Délon. Maybe she was just wearing her human mask. Look for twitching. Look to see if the eyes bulge, I told myself.

  Lou caught me looking at her. She smiled. I turned away quickly.

  That had to be the answer. She was hiding her Délon appearance behind a human disguise. The other Délons I had seen couldn’t sustain the mask for very long, but Lou must have found a way to control it. She was a warrior after all, one of the best I had ever seen. If any Délon could figure out how to sustain the mask, she could.

  They were setting me up. Lou would win my confidence without resistance, and I would lead her to the Source. For the moment, I was glad I didn’t know what the Source was.

  We were midway between Chattanooga and Dalton when I had figured out the Délons’ brilliant plan. I barely had time to pat myself on the back when I saw the carcass of a dead deer on the side of the road. At first glance it looked like road kill. Traffic had been light up and down the interstate, but still these things happened.

  But as I got closer, I grew more apprehensive. Something about it bothered me. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was growing more and more nervous by the minute. I kicked Chubby and galloped beside Devlin. He looked far from nervous. In fact, he looked giddy.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  He pointed at the carcass. “Dacs.”

  “Dacs?”

  Gordy let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeak and a bark. “Dacs. Oh man, I thought that was just some crap the kids at school made up.”

  “They’re real,” Devlin cackled. “And they’re near.”

  “Anyone want to tell me what a Dac is,” I said

  “A kind of halfer,” Lou answered.

  “Not halfer,” Devlin snapped. “They’re mistakes. Things that never should have been.”

  “I thought that’s what Délons were,” I said knowing that it would piss Devlin off.

  Devlin was too preoccupied to be pissed off. “Shunters don’t always find the right host. They’re stupid little jellyfish when you get down to it. They’ll attach themselves to whatever’s available when they can’t find the marked. They’ll kill most things they attach themselves to, but every once in a while...” The spider legs on his head flared. “Something will survive.”

  “Things, what things?” I asked.

  “You name it, trees, dogs, cats...”

  “Are you trying to tell me that a bunch of half-trees, half Délons killed that deer?” I said.

  “Nope,” Devlin said calmly, “that would be silly.” He dismounted and readied himself for battle. “Most of the Dacs I’ve seen have been pigs turned Délon, a few dogs. Every once in a while, you see a few exotic animals thrown in, bears, apes.”

  “Apes?”

  “They’re the worst,” Devlin said, pulling a long metal blade with a cuff attachment from his sad
dlebag. He hooked it securely to his right arm. “They’ll be on us soon. Dismount!” His voice was both angry and excited. He was looking forward to this showdown.

  “Shouldn’t we keep on riding?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Gordy said. “Let’s keep riding.”

  “We fight,” Devlin roared. The insect mandibles shot out of his mouth and snapped feverishly.

  Gordy turned ghost white. “Can we vote?”

  “This is stupid, Devlin. We have no idea how many of these Dacs there are,” I said. I realized I was trying the impossible, reasoning with a Délon.

  He growled. “You were a great warrior once, or so the legend goes.”

  Lou interjected. “It’s not just a legend. It’s true. I was there, and so were you.”

  I gave her a disapproving glare. I didn’t want her defending me. She was a traitor.

  Devlin rushed her horse. “I was not there. I was born after the battle of Atlanta...”

  “You know what?” I shouted. “I don’t care who was where when. Let’s concentrate on the present. We got a bunch of these Dacs things headed our way and I say we get on our horses and ride as fast and furious as we can...” Suddenly, I was knocked from my horse. I hit the ground with a heavy thud. The wind was pushed out of my lungs, and I couldn’t breathe. A large mass I had not yet identified was on top of me squealing and grunting.

  In an instant, my attacker was lifted off me by Devlin. I struggled to catch my breath. I heard the sound a blade of striking flesh over and over again, then a body falling to the ground. When I was able to breathe again, I noticed Lou stooped beside me. She attempted to help me up, but I shrugged her off and stood on my own. I could feel how hurt she was by my refusal of her help.

  The thing that attacked me was lying in the middle of the road. Purple streams of blood poured from several stab wounds. It was my first time seeing a Dac. They were uglier than Délons, and I hadn’t thought that was possible. This one used to be a pig. Its snot-laden snout was the only way I could tell. It had the telltale spider legs and purple skin of a Délon, but the insect mandible hidden inside a Délon’s mouth was exposed on this creature. Its entire jaw was more insect than anything else. Its body was manlike in that it had two arms and two legs instead of four legs. The hands and feet were pig’s feet. Its build was short and stout.

  “Okay,” Gordy said. “We’ve all seen the Dac now. Purple Pete here killed it. Can we leave? I mean really this is... Hey!” His horse raised up on its back legs without warning. The steed’s front legs kicked, and he whinnied nervously. Gordy hugged the horse’s neck and screamed

  Three Dacs approached. Two were pig Dacs like the one Devlin killed, but the third one looked like it used to be a dog. It was hard to tell because it had no fur. Its face was covered with spider legs and large insect mandibles. The only thing that looked remotely like a dog, were the floppy ears on either side of its head. Again, its body was man-like, but its hands and feet remained animal-like. In this case, paws.

  The dog Dac leapt on Gordy’s horse and wrapped its arm around Gordy’s neck. “Oz!” Gordy shouted.

  I raced toward the horse, realizing half way there that I had no weapon of any kind. I did the only thing I could do. I grabbed the Dac’s leg and pulled as hard as I could. I could see its mandibles nibbling on Gordy’s neck. “Get off him, you rancid bug bite!”

  My legs were swept out from under me by yet another Dac, a pig. It squealed and snorted. I swung wildly trying to fend it off, but it had a tight hold. I heard Lou scream. If anything could make her lose her human mask, this was it. If she was a Délon, I would know it soon enough.

  The pig Dac bit me, and I yelped. I kept fighting with little success. I started to wonder where Devlin was when his future king needed him the most.

  I managed to jab my elbow in the Dac’s eye, distracting it for a brief moment. I had time to look around to see what was going on with the others. Gordy had managed to kick the dog Dac off the horse. It struggled to climb back on the horse’s back and continue to feed on Gordy. Lou’s horse was keeping a small Dac at bay. It looked like it could have been a cat in its previous life. Devlin was worse off than any of us. Five Dacs of various types were attacking him. He was holding his own, but barely, and he couldn’t continue much longer.

  A dog barked. A big dog. I turned toward the sound expecting to see another mutant Dac approach, but I couldn’t have been more wrong or happier. It was Kimball. Not just Kimball. Wes’s eight Taker killers were with my warrior dog. They ran down the highway like a stampeding army. The Dacs didn’t have a chance.

  Kimball leapt on the Dac that had set its sights on me. The two of them tumbled to the ground in a growling, snorting heap.

  Two of the other dogs sunk their teeth into the Dac on Gordy’s horse and yanked it to the pavement. They violently shook their heads, almost as if they were playing with a pet store toy. The Dac’s leg ripped off.

  Another of Wes’s dogs grabbed the cat Dac that was attacking Lou and did what dogs do to cats they catch. The little Dac howled.

  None of the dogs came to Devlin’s rescue. The five remaining dogs barked and circled the Dacs and Devlin. It was clear the dogs were confused. They obviously had been trained to hate Délons, and they weren’t very fond of Dacs either. They had no idea who to save or who to attack.

  Kimball had disposed of the pig Dac. He ran to my side, panting, tail wagging, a goofy dog grin on his face. I knelt and hugged him around the neck. “Good boy.” He barked. I stood. “Go help Devlin!” I pointed to the mass of Dacs and Devlin tearing the life out of each other. Kimball stepped toward them, but stopped. He turned and barked. It was clear he didn’t want to help the Délon.

  I heard the putter of a German-made vehicle approach. Wes’s VW van came to a screeching halt behind us. He threw open the driver side door, and squeezed his portly frame out of the van. Valerie and Tyrone popped out of the back. They were armed with baseball bats. Wes had his trusty knife and something else. Something I was glad to see at the time, but later, when the little time travel episodes would play themselves over and over again in my head, I would regret having. He had J.J., my sword.

  Wes whistled. “Kid.” He tossed me the sword. Without hesitation I ran to help Devlin. The dogs followed. I swung J.J. and struck a Dac on the back. It diverted its attention from Devlin and turned on me. This Dac face was different. It was a deer – maybe. A dog took it down before it could lay a hand or hoof on me.

  Wes barreled through the four Dacs still thrashing Devlin. His bulk caused two of them to collapse to the road. He swung his knife wildly and killed one of the Dacs. The other one squirmed out from under Wes and was immediately attacked by one of the dogs.

  Devlin, left one-on-one with a Dac, wrapped his arms around the animal freak’s neck and snapped it like a twig.

  Within seconds the Dac attack was officially squelched. We were all alive. Some of us were bruised and bloodied, but we were still breathing.

  “Yeah!” Gordy shouted. “Take that you filthy Dacs!” He slid off his horse. “We’re bad, ahuh – we’re b-a-d!”

  Devlin stood motionless. “Shut up, human!” He started to sway. “You did nothing.”

  “It only looked like I was doing nothing. Those Dac butt munches fell right into my trap, my Délon friend, and oh by the way, I noticed you were getting your purple behind kicked from here to Timbuck...”

  “Shut up!” Devlin didn’t shout as much as he screamed uncontrollably. “I’ve lost my...” He looked at Wes. “Where did you come from?”

  Wes didn’t know how to answer. He turned to me. I shrugged my shoulders. “We were just driving by...” Wes started to say, but stopped when Devlin dropped to one knee.

  “I cannot hear them.” He fell face first onto the pitted concrete highway.

  I stood stunned. “Devlin?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Ding dong the witch is dead!” Gordy said. He hooted and did a little dance. Devlin’s right arm twitched
. Gordy screeched and jumped back.

  Lou walked over to Devlin and knelt down beside him. She examined him closely. “He’s alive.”

  “Somebody stab him or hit him or shove fatty foods down his throat until he dies of a heart attack,” Gordy said backing away. “Kill the purple piece of pus.”

  “Shut up, Gordy,” I said. I motioned to Wes. “We need to get him in the van.”

  “You sure you want to do this, kid?” Wes said rubbing his stubbly chin.

  “It’s Devlin, Wes,” I said.

  “That ain’t Devlin.” He stuck the knife in the sheath clipped to his belt. “Not for a long while now.”

  “He will be again.” Together we walked over to Devlin and dragged him to the van.

  ***

  We found an unmanned convenience store at the next exit. It had been unmanned for a while. In fact, the closer we got to Délon City, the more homes, businesses, and churches we found that had been abandoned. It was as if everything close to the city was dead.

  I sat in the manager’s office with a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and wiped my wounds. I caught a glimpse of J.J. propped up against the wall, and was surprised that I was so happy to have it with me. It had belonged to Mr. Chalmers originally, but after everything we had been through together, that sword was mine.

  My backpack lay next to it. As safe and secure as J.J. made me feel, the backpack, or rather what was inside the backpack, chilled me to the bone. I wanted to take my sword and stab it, but I’d never get away with it. It was connected to the Délon collective, and they would know the second I killed it.

  I started thinking about our journey to this juncture. My mind flashed back to the mountains. Devlin had been behaving differently from that point on. He was less... less something. He had shrunk. I know it. What was it about the mountains? A snow flurry drifted through my mind’s eye. It was cold on the mountains.

  Suddenly, in my mind, I was back in Gordy’s garage opening the freezer and looking at that dead shunter. The cold. Délons are cut off from each other in the cold. But it was cold in Tullahoma, and the Délons were fine.