(A/N: Two chapters in one day! Hope you enjoy. Also, point out any typos, spelling or grammar mistakes)
Chapter ten: I play tag with fiery whips
Y/N POV: Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood Argus, the camp's head of security.
"This is Argus," Chiron told Percy. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things." I almost laughed at the irony if not distracted by the sound of footsteps behind us. Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes. I eyed them wearily because I knew they were cursed.
"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you." Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around.
"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told Percy. "And I thought ... um, maybe you could use these." He handed him the sneakers, which looked pretty normal, despite the fact that they were meant to drag the wearer into Tartarus.
Luke said, "Maia!" And white bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, I dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared. "Awesome!" Grover commented.
Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days...." His expression turned sad, and I remembered his backstory.
"Hey, man," Perce said, blushing almost as hard as Annabeth. "Thanks."
"Listen, Percy ..." Luke looked uncomfortable. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just ... kill some monsters for me, okay?,"
They shook hands, and I had a flashback to my old school. There was a kid in my class who loved to handshake people, but whenever they did, it was super hard and everyone was always weary of their handshakes since.
Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave a good-bye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out. After Luke was gone, Percy told her, "You're hyperventilating."
"Am not." I shot her a pointed look but she didn't notice.
"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?,"
"Oh ... why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?" I wanted to yell at her saying 'anndddd the camp's most smartest and stubborn camper award goes to... Annabeth!," but I kept that to myself. I didn't think she's be too pleased if I did say that though. She stomped down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road. Argus followed, jingling his car keys.
Percy picked up the flying shoes and looked at Chiron. "I won't be able to use these, will I?," He asked. Chiron shook his head. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air ... that would not be wise for you."
He nodded, disappointed, but then looked as if he had an idea. "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?,"
His eyes lit up. "Me?" Pretty soon they laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch. "Maia!" he shouted. Grover got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass.The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.
"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!,"
"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van.
Before Percy could follow, Chiron caught his arm. "I should have trained you better, Percy," he said. And I headed towards the van—but very slowly considering I wanted to get a glimpse of the infamous Anaklusmos.
I was about to enter the van, when Chiron handed Percy a pen—THE pen. He uncapped it and the pen grew longer and heavier in his hand. In half a second, Percy held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. My job is complete, I thought, and I climbed inside.
—————
Argus drove us out of the countryside and into western Long Island. It felt weird to be on a highway again. After a while at Half-Blood Hill, the 'real world' felt strange, especially because I keep reminding myself that everything around me is just a figment of Rick Riordan's imagination.
"So far so good," Percy told Annabeth. "Ten miles and not a single monster."
She gave an irritated look like: if I die today, your paying my medical bills. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain."
"Remind me again-why do you hate me so much?"
"I don't hate you."
"Could've fooled me." She folded her cap of invisibility. "Look ... we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals." "Why?"
She sighed. "How many reasons do you want? One time my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god for the city of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her."
"They must really like olives."
"Oh, forget it."
"Now, if she'd invented pizza-that I could understand."
"I said, forget it!"
In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at him while I was whispering to Grover. "Should you get the popcorn or should I?," After Argus dropped us at the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, they unloaded our bags, making sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away—the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Restless (three of us were ADHD so don't blame our impatientness) waiting for the bus and decided to play some Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. Annabeth was unbelievable good at the game. She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever else she got up her sleeve. I wasn't too bad myself, I managed not to get eliminated for the first 3 rounds and that was a win for me. The game ended when Percy tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all.
Grover blushed. He tried to apologize, but we were too busy cracking up—I laughed so hard I nearly bit my tongue off. Finally the bus came, and our ADHD was put to rest.
As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy—enchiladas. "What is it?" Percy asked.
"I don't know," he said tensely. "Maybe it's nothing." But I guess Grover's nerves was contagious because Percy started looking over his shoulder too.
I was starting to get nervous when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered, and my heart skipped a beat. It's THE scene!! Y/N, you better not leave your backpack in the vehicle when it explodes, or else I will make YOU explode as well! I scolded myself and clutched my backpack straps tighter.
I guess Percy caught a glimpse of her too, because he scrunched down in the seat. Behind her came two more old ladies: one in a green hat, one in a purple hat. Otherwise they looked exactly like Mrs. Dodds-same gnarled hands, paisley handbags, wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers.
They sat in the front row, right behind the driver. The two on the aisle crossed their legs over the walkway, making an X. It was casual enough, but it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.
The bus pulled out of the station, and we headed through the slick streets of Manhattan. "She didn't stay dead long," He said, trying to keep my voice from quivering. "I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime."
"I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not."
"All three of them," Grover whimpered. "Di immortales!"
"It's okay," I said, stealing Annabeth's line. "The Furies, the three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows." I said with a hint of sarcasm.
"They don't open," Grover moaned.
"A back exit?" The blond suggested. There wasn't one. Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.
"They won't attack us with witnesses around," He said hopefully. "Will they?,"
"Mortals don't have good eyes," Annabeth reminded him. "Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist."
"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?," I fake coughed to hide my sigh of aggravation. She thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit in the roof ... ?," We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.
Mrs. Dodds got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room."
"So do I," said the second sister.
"So do I," said the third sister. They all started coming down the aisle.
"I've got it," Annabeth said. "Percy, take my hat."
"What?"
" Annabeth means that: You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away." I explained so he could understand.
"But you guys—"
"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Annabeth said. "You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."
"I can't just leave you."
"Don't worry about us," Grover said. "Go!"
His hands were shaking. He no doubt felt like a coward, but he took the Yankees cap anyway, and put it on.
The Furies surrounded Grover, Annabeth, and I—now fully transformed, they lashed their whips, and hissed "Where is it? Where?" The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right.
"He's not here!" Annabeth yelled. "He's gone!" The Furies raised their whips.
Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it. And I summoned my double bladed sword.
But what Percy did next was so impulsive and dangerous he should've been named ADHD poster child of the year.
He grabbed the wheel from him and jerked it to the left. Everybody howled as they were thrown to the right.
"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey-whoa!"
The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us. We careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, cars plowed aside like bowling pins.
Somehow the driver found an exit. We shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to our left, the Hudson River to our right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river. Another great idea: He hit the emergency brake.
The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him.
The Furies regained their balance. They lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans. While they distracted from the front, I had hopped over a seat and was trying to slash them from behind. But, that didn't go smoothly and I nearly got slashed by one of their whips. I can cross 'playing tag with fiery whips' off the bucket list. I thought as I came for another strike.
"Hey!," Percy took off the cap, and the Furies turned—baring their yellow fangs at him. Mrs. Dodds stalked up the aisle—just as she used to do in class, about to deliver an F- math test. Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward him like huge nasty lizards.
"Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said, in an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia. "You have offended the gods. You shall die."
"I liked you better as a math teacher," He sassed her. She growled in response.
Annabeth and Grover moved up behind the Furies cautiously, looking for an opening. Percy took the ballpoint pen out of the pocket and uncapped it—Riptide elongated into a shimmering double-edged sword. The Furies hesitated. Mrs. Dodds had felt Riptide's blade before. She obviously didn't like seeing it again.
"Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."
"Nice try," He told her.
"Percy, look out!" Annabeth cried. Mrs. Dodds lashed her whip around his sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at him.
Percy stick the Fury on the left with its hilt, sending her toppling backward into a seat and turned to slice the Fury on the right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. Annabeth got Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands.
"Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!" I felt bad for him, remembering the times I had burned myself while learning how to cook. The Fury Percy had hilt-slammed came at me again, talons ready, but I stepped forward, slashed, and she broke open like a piñata.
Mrs. Dodds was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got Mrs. Dodds's legs tied up in her own whip. Finally they both shoved her backward into the aisle. Mrs. Dodds tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down.
"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!,"
"Braccas meas vescimini!" He yelled."He said eat my pants?" I translated, obviously confused. Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck.
"Get out!" Annabeth yelled. "Now!" I don't think any of us needed any encouragement. We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped our photograph before we could put away our weapons.
"Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our-"
BOOOOOM!
The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead.
"Run!" Annabeth said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!"
We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us—and nothing but darkness ahead. I hope that battling Medusa wouldn't be too bad, I had enough with photographs today.