Délon City: Book Two of the Oz Chronicles Read Free Page B

circled me as he spoke. “The legend of the Battle of Atlanta. The boy warrior. The Taker slayer. Surely you know your history, Mr. Griffin.”
    “Yes, sir,” Pop said. “But... You mean...”
    “I do indeed.” General Roy knelt before me. “Meet your new king.”

TWO
    I sat in the principal’s office alone for a long time. King? Me? It was a laughable concept. Had I not just lived through the end of the world, I would have thought this whole turn of events was a bizarre dream.
    I placed my hand on the principal’s desk and felt the same sticky substance that had been on my desk at home. I examined the rest of the room more closely. The walls, the filing cabinet, the clock, everything was covered in it. Even the chair I was sitting in. In fact, the substance seemed to be creeping up on my jeans and slowly covering me. I stood and wiped off as much of the goo as possible.
    Roy entered, not the Roy I once knew and fought side-byside with, but General Roy, the leader of a purple army of monstrosities that had no business ruling the planet. And I was supposed to be their king? It was too twisted to even think about.
    General Roy approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder. I got the same chilling sensation that I’d had when Pop put his hand on my shoulder earlier that morning. “Oz, my friend, it is so good to see you.”
    I didn’t feel the same, but I didn’t have the guts to say it. I simply nodded.
    “I know this is a lot to take in, and I wish I could give you some time to digest this new revelation, but time is something we don’t have.”
    “What do you mean?”
    He smiled. Délon smiles are not something to long for. They are wicked moments in time that are so visually disturbing they send little pricks of pain through the back of your head. “It will all be explained to you after your marking.”
    There was that word again, marking. I was getting tired of hearing it. It didn’t exactly conjure up pleasant prospects.
    Roy moved around the principal’s desk and sat in the ergonomic chair. “Unfortunately, the royal scarab has not emerged yet.”
    “Scarab?” I couldn’t recall where but I had heard that word before. I repeated the word in my mind over and over again hoping it would spark a memory.
    “They are skittish little things. A nuisance really, but we can’t have a marking without them. The royal scarab is particularly nasty. Has a mind of its own really.”
    “I don’t understand...”
    “Of course you don’t,” General Roy said. “You’re still human.”
    “And I want to stay that way.” I said expecting a fierce rebuke. But Roy simply gave me a bigger, more disturbing Délon smile.
    “You only think that because you’re human. Believe me, once you begin the transformation you will pray for Délon blood and Délon blood alone to run through your veins.”
    “Why...” I stopped myself. I was about to ask a question I didn’t want to know the answer to, but Roy read my mind.
    “You’re wondering why I don’t do it myself. Why I don’t just grab you the way I was grabbed in the Georgia Dome and dig my mandibles through your skull and into your brain? Suck out your weak and feeble human essence and replace it with the glorious Délon essence?”
    “Well,” I said. “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but, yeah.”
    He laughed the same laugh I had heard on the banks of Alltoona Lake. It wasn’t just him. It was a demented chorus of laughter. Every Délon on the planet was laughing through him. “A king with a sense of humor. It is just what we need.” He stood and moved around the desk. “We discovered that sort of transformation is successful only during battle. We’ve tried it on various humans since the end of the war, but they either died or became halfers.”
    “Halfers? Like Coach Denton?”
    He nodded. “Foul, disgusting creatures really. They’re not to be trusted by either Délon or human.”
    The Délon version of Devlin entered the room carrying my