The Warfighter, the Storm, and the Moon

Chapter 17: Heat

'Heat'

31-Aug-2030, 1430R

Thalia Grace, Lieutenant of the Hunt, Daughter of Zeus

Hunters of Diana

Long Island, New York, USA

If the heat wave we were experiencing wasn't bad enough, many of the girls were still whining about what happened the day prior.

Jocelyn, Karen, and much of the rest of the Hunt were pissed, only shutting up about it because I told them to—unsurprisingly. Carly, Jess, and Helen seemed okay with the loss, though they were basically the only ones that didn't get smoked, shot, blinded, or blown up, so that may have had something to do with it—also unsurprisingly.

What did surprise me were the few that didn't seem to feel either way, with Cass being the most prominent of the third group: the one made up of Hunters that not only didn't shoot Percy on sight in North Dakota, they never expressed any sort of hatred towards him. In fact, this small group seemed scared of him... though based on what I'd seen and heard, I couldn't quite blame them. I'm not saying that he's the best fighter in the world, but he's certainly different—and as many around me have observed, people fear things they don't understand.

As for me, I was somewhere in the range of the aforementioned trio that was mostly unharmed, despite having gotten smoked, shot, and blinded. We lost, I hated it, but I wasn't affected by it. While my pride said otherwise, a small part of me couldn't help but be impressed by the strategy—apparently one brought about by Percy himself, according to gossipping campers.

The whole thing wasn't just brilliantly planned, it was brilliantly executed. It appeared that, in the brief time he'd worked with us, he figured out the strengths and weaknesses of the Hunt. The flashbangs, the smoke grenades, the flares, the weird training grenade things, the close-quarters combat, the loud music, the taunts—with all of it, the campers had rendered us useless.

Hell, it's not even like Percy took part in the action that much. From what I heard, he was actually in their "HQ element" most of the time before he and Tyson reinforced the team of Ares kids in the end.

That's all well and good, but why can't I get last night out of my head? Or Operation Azrael? Or the Killdeer Mountains incident?

It's not like there was anything fascinating about what he did, or who he was. He wasn't as smart as an Athena kid, as fast as a Hermes kid, or as strong as an Ares kid. But he still managed to maintain a decent standing in all three qualities, and even more significantly, was a leader.

Is this why I'm constantly defending him... no, I'm doing that on my own, not because it's Percy Jackson.

Honestly, the Hunters have said some messed up things that I've just tolerated because I didn't have the time to dwell on it—Artemis kept us busy, after all. Hell, they've even bad-mouthed my brother, especially after they heard about the whole incident with Piper through the grapevine (and yes, I one hundred percent believe that was Piper's fault).

Must be because his fighting is so different.

Which was undoubtedly true. I had never seen guns used by any demigod or anyone in our world. When Percy showed up with his arsenal—a rifle, grenade launcher, machine gun, and everything else—a small part of my brain broke, and I'm willing to bet the same happened to everyone else that saw him. Well, except for Tyson, considering that he just seems willing to go along with whatever's happening.

Speaking of the cyclops, he was running around the camp with a hellhound (Mrs. O'Leary, I think) with a harpy flying after them—Ella, or something, one of Tyson's friends from long ago—as they played something or the other.