NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

ninety two: the piercer.

BROOKLYN THOUGHT SHE was going insane. It just wasn't possible that a huge, silvery figure could drop out of the sky and stomp Kelli flat, trampling her into a mound of monster dust.

But that's exactly what happened. The Titan was ten feet tall, with wild silver Einstein hair, pure silver eyes, and muscular arms protruding from a ripped-up blue janitor's uniform. In his hand was a massive push broom. His name tag, incredibly, read BOB.

Annabeth yelped and tried to crawl away, but the giant janitor wasn't interested in her. He turned to the two remaining empousai, who stood over Percy and Brooklyn.

One was foolish enough to attack. She lunged with the speed of a tiger, but she never stood a chance. A spearhead jutted from the end of Bob's broom. With a single deadly swipe, he cut her to dust. The last vampire tried to run. Bob threw his broom like a massive boomerang ( was there such a thing as a broomerang? Brooklyn wanted one ). It sliced through the vampire and returned to Bob's hand.

"SWEEP!" The Titan grinned with delight and did a victory dance. "Sweep, sweep, sweep!"

Brooklyn couldn't speak. She couldn't believe that the Hayward luck was still going strong. Annabeth and Percy looked just as shocked.

"H-how . . ." Annabeth stammered.

"Percy called me!" the janitor said happily. "Yes, he did."

Annabeth crawled a little farther away. Her arm was bleeding badly. "Called you? He — wait. You're Bob? The Bob?"

The janitor frowned when he noticed Annabeth's wounds. "Owie."

Annabeth flinched as he knelt next to her.

"It's okay," Percy said, his voice tinged with pain. "He's friendly."

The janitor tapped Annabeth's forearm and it mended instantly.

Bob chuckled, pleased with himself, then bounded over to Percy and Brooklyn and healed their bleeding necks and arms. The Titan's hands were surprisingly warm and gentle.

"All better!" Bob declared, his eerie silver eyes crinkling with pleasure. "I am Bob, Percy's friend!"

"Uh . . . yeah," Percy said, making Brooklyn giggle. "Thanks for the help, Bob. It's really good to see you again."

"Yes!" the janitor agreed. "Bob. That's me. Bob, Bob, Bob." He shuffled around, obviously pleased with his name. "I am helping. I heard my name. Upstairs in Hades's palace, nobody calls for Bob unless there is a mess. Bob, sweep up these bones. Bob, mop up these tortured souls. Bob, a zombie exploded in the dining room."

Annabeth gave Percy a puzzled look, but he shrugged, not knowing what to do.

"Then I heard my friend call!" The Titan beamed. "Percy said, Bob!"

He grabbed Percy's arm and hoisted him to his feet. Then he helped Brooklyn up.

"That's awesome," Percy said. "Seriously. But how did you—"

"Oh, time to talk later." Bob's expression turned serious. "We must go before they find you. They are coming. Yes, indeed."

"They?" Brooklyn repeated. She scanned the horizon. She saw no approaching monsters — nothing but the stark gray wasteland.

"Yes," Bob agreed. "But Bob knows a way. Come on, friends! We will have fun!"

* * *

They followed Bob through the wasteland, tracing the route of the Phlegethon as they approached the storm front of darkness. Every so often they stopped to drink firewater, which kept them alive, but Brooklyn wasn't happy about it. Her throat felt like she was constantly gargling with that weird protein smoothie her school "friends" dared her to try. It was so gross, she'd thrown up on a guy's shoes. So embarrassing.