IX. A Gold Medal, Olympic Dive.

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Chapter Nine: A Gold Medal, Olympic Dive.
Leash-less confusion, I wander the concrete,
wonder if better now having survived !






The quartet spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, and past amber waves of grain.

Surprisingly enough, they weren't attacked once. That did nothing for their paranoia, though. None of them could relax, they remained tense and constantly looked over their shoulders. Eventually, that would become instinct. One reason that Annabeth Chase didn't relax was because it felt like they were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and below, something waiting for the right opportunity to attack. She could tell that Percy had begun to hunch in on himself whenever someone even slightly glanced at him. He was trying to keep a low profile, she could tell that much. When both he and Grover were immersed into their own conversation, Colette had told Annabeth about the front pages of several East Coast newspapers that had Percy's face plastered on them that she'd seen. The Trenton Register News showed a picture taken by a tourist when the four had been getting off of the exploded Greyhound bus.

There must've been a wild look in their eyes, especially his due to the sword in his hands that looked like a metallic blue, easily mistaken for a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. Colette read the caption aloud in her best news reporter voice, putting on a really good American accent that hid her French twinges: Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here, fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an East New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe that the boy may be traveling with three teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

               "Don't worry," Annabeth told the fugitive. "Mortal police could never find us." She tried for reassurance, but she knew that she didn't sound too sure about it. The look of doubt in his eyes told her he'd caught on to it too.

The rest of the day, Annabeth watched as Percy spent half of his time alternatively pacing the length of the train. Whether it was out of anxiety or ADHD, she didn't know, but she knew her eyes and head hurt from watching him. The other half of his time was spent looking out the windows and she could see why he was. They'd spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur caught Percy's eyes and waved. Nobody else in the passenger car had noticed, thank gods for the mist. The adult riders had their faces buried into their laptops or magazines. Later, towards the evening, she saw Colette's eyebrows furrow in interest. Apparently, the blonde had seen a lion, its fur glinting gold in the evening light. It had lept through the trees before it disappeared.

Unfortunately, the reward money for returning Gladiola, the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. They couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so they dozed in their stiff seats. Annabeth winced at the position Percy's neck was in when he tried to sleep. She bit the inside of her lip to fight a laugh when she realized he was trying not to drool because she was next to him. She looked across from her to find Colette staring at her with amused eyes and raised eyebrows. Grover kept snoring and bleating in his sleep, waking Percy up every time. He had shuffled around at some point and his fake foot fell off. Colette, despite her wide eyes, had been quick to put it on before any of the other passengers noticed.

               "So," Annabeth began once her best friend had settled back into her seat comfortably. "Who wants your help?" She saw the blonde slap a hand to her forehead at her blunt question and shaking her head tiredly and she winced.

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