There were no riddles this time. (thank the gods!)
The concept of the game is still the same; if I lose, I get eaten. And all I have to do is run faster than the bullet train of a worm behind me until it gives up. Will it give up? Who knows.
How did it even get that big? I'm sure if Annabeth were here, she would mention something about critical mass and how an organism that big shouldn't even be possible, especially not in this barren, waterless wasteland devoid of life. Then again, we have fought giants (and Auntie Charybdis, for that matter), so I feel like the laws of physics don't really apply to gods and monsters.
That's not important. What matters right now is not dying.
I dare to spare a glance behind me, only to glimpse two more of those monstrosities now on either side of the first, quickly closing the distance between them and my (apparently) tasty demigod flesh. Great! Just Great! It looks like the 'Sandy Trio Express' has arrived. Next stop: nowhere near me!
They had massive teeth that resembled the blades of a helicopter, if not longer, and they bordered gaping maws that brought to mind black holes with sparks of fire and lightning deep within. When they exhaled, even with them still a good twenty meters away, it felt like I was back at Hephaestus' forge in Mount Saint Helens. Luckily, with how big they were, the worms kept pushing each other off course causing them all to lose ground in their chase.
I guess I should probably explain who I am and how I got here.
My name is Persephone Jackson (but everyone calls me Percy) and I'm a demigod. Poseidon's my dad. Yes, like the Greek god of the sea. Yeah. I know. What in Hades possessed the gods to make such a braindead decision like sending the demigod who fights with water to a place that has NO WATER?! I have no idea either.
Anyway, it should be no surprise that I am here on a quest to save the gods' butts, once again. Where's here? I have no idea. All I know is that I've helped save Olympus at least twice now, so I guess they expect me to come to their rescue every time. Unlike the other times, however, I'm not tasked with simply saving the world and Olympus (you know, the easy stuff); this time I'm responsible for the salvation of the entire universe. Wonderful! (Note the sarcasm)
But I can curse at the gods later because right now my focus needs to be on not dying and coming up with last-resort strategies to kill whichever worm catches her first (which seems likely since they had closed the distance between me and them despite bumping into each other).
Then, to my right, far in the distance, I heard (or rather felt) a deep, rhythmic thumping sound; or was it my heartbeat in my ears? I tried to scan the horizon, saying a silent prayer to the gods that it was not some other monster coming to claim its five-star demigod happy meal. Nothing seemed to stand out as imminently dangerous on the reddish-yellow dunes, so I focused back on the immediate threat nipping at my heels and rippling the ground beneath me sending me stumbling like I was drunk, trying to find my footing.
Then, as if the situation couldn't get any worse, I heard a deep rumbling, reminiscent of the thunderous waves that accompany a thunderstorm or a hurricane. I almost looked into the sky expecting to see an enormous rain cloud when my eyes caught a billow of sand cresting the far dune ahead of me.
"Πουτάνας γιος! (Son of a Bitch!)" I swore emphatically in Greek.
It was a worm like the others, but this one was at least three times the size of the ones chasing me. And I thought Larry, Moe, and Curly were big.
Not wasting a single second, I dug my right hand into the sand, not even attempting to slow my momentum in fear of being eaten, and swung to the right, using my planted hand as a pivot; my bare legs slid across the burning grains as my feet fumbled for purchase on the ever-shifting sands. My feet finally gained enough footing to propel me forward in my new trajectory and away from the gaping maws of the worm that had just swallowed the sand where I had been standing. Apparently, the worm was trying to make one last attempt to munch on me because I didn't see any of the original three worms after that close call.
Then it was just me and Titanic Terror.
The big one was much faster than the first three. Makes sense, but that doesn't mean I have to like it nor does it mean that I should refrain from cursing whatever god decided it was a good idea to make that thing.
It was closing the distance between us very quickly. I could barely process what was happening before it was already 30 meters away. The rumble was a roar now, deafening in both its pitch and volume. A bellow came from the beast, low in pitch but louder than any whale I had ever heard. It resonated within my very bones causing them to vibrate; even my teeth chattered from the sound.
My head swung from side to side, looking for any hope of salvation. Where could I even run at this point? It was not like I could see safety in the distance. It's not like I had any goal to use as running motivation. And so, I made a decision.
I snatched Riptide out of the pocket of my shorts and flicked the cap(the one that I may or may not have put teeth marks in) off so it flew away from me, watching as the ugly ballpoint pen, that always seemed to be low on ink, transformed into a beautiful bronze sword. My dad's symbol, a trident, was carved into a bit of material that extended from the hilt in beautiful craftsmanship. Known as Anaklusmos in Greek, it was the kind of sword legendary heroes killed monsters with. I also pressed the little button on the side of the wristwatch my brother Tyson had made me, and it extended into a well-made shield. It made me smile fondly at the memory of the adventure that inspired the designs on the bronze surface. I inhaled deeply to brace myself for the stupid decision I was about to make. I thought of Annabeth and how she would scold me for being stupid. Seaweed Brain is right.
As I took one last breath, hoping it wouldn't be my last, I spun around, Riptide held high and shield at the ready. I let out a warrior's battle cry!
Only to see nothing but sand. No worm in sight. Not even a ripple or a shift in the sands. Even the wind seemed to halt.
I had almost believed I had imagined it. That somehow all four of the worms were just hallucinations brought on by the desert heat: mere mirages that scare people into wasting both energy and precious water, which seemed to be nonexistent on the planet.
And then the ground disappeared beneath my feet.
Welp, I thought as I was plunged into darkness, watching sharp needles slowly closed to obscure my vision of the blue sky. I guess I lost.
***
The Fremen man had been looking for a ride back to his home Sietch. He knew of a valley not far from where he was; it was a place where Shai-Hulud were commonly spotted by Fremen or encountered by outsiders. Often, these kinds of valleys were used for the official initiation of younger Fremen into the tribe, the place where they would first ride Shai-Hulud and earn their Sietch name.
But for the man, it would do just fine for finding him a ride home.
He continued to sandwalk. It was the way all Fremen traversed the desert without attracting worms, and it was characterized by arrhythmic motions that mimicked the natural sounds of the desert. All Fremen knew the sandwalk because all Fremen knew that rhythmic sounds attract the sandworms.
As the man climbed the tall dune that would allow him to survey the valley that was his destination, he began to hear the familiar rumbles of Shai-Hulud near the surface. The man, having lived for as long as he had in the desert, recognized that the Maker was chasing something. Whether that something was another Maker or a person, he wouldn't find out until he crested the top of the dune. And when he did, the man was baffled at the sight he saw (something that rarely happened to him regarding the desert).
There was not just one Shai-Hulud, but three. They were all fairly small from what he could tell, but that was not what surprised him. What surprised him was that the three Shai-Hulud were chasing a single person across the open plain of the desert. Not only that, but they seemed to be fighting over the person seeing as they kept bumping into one another to gain an edge in the chase. This was unheard of for Shai-Hulud; while all Makers were territorial and protectors of the desert, they would never fight over something as insignificant as a single person, a mere morsel in the mouth of Shai-Hulud.
The man noticed that something was different about the person that provoked Shai-Hulud into a frenzy. Though he couldn't make out any features of the individual due to the distance, he did not see the characteristic blue glow of the Imperium shields (which were known to anger Shai-Hulud). He did notice that they were able to somewhat outrun the Makers, which was a feat in and of itself, but the Makers were slowly closing the distance.
The man took out a thumper, one that he had intended to utilize to call Shai-Hulud as his ride, but he had an extra one. And anyone who can outrun Shai-Hulud in such a way might prove to be a formidable ally. He would see.
He twisted the mechanism that set the thumper to the correct frequency, slid down the dune a little way, and dug into the sand, hitting the ground to see if the sound would echo. It did. The man smirked to himself as he found it on the first try...like he did every time.
He then drove the spike of the thumper into the sand and released the mechanism, allowing the top to shoot up. Immediately, it shot back down, creating a thud that echoed across the valley. Then another. Then another.
The man waited a moment before realizing that not a single one of the Makers cared for the thumper, completely focused on the person they were chasing. Again, highly unusual. And unfortunate. There was nothing he could do, except wait for the inevitable. Then, he could call for one of the Shai-Hulud after the person had already been disintegrated by the heat of the insides of a Maker.
The only thing he could do was watch as a large Old Man of the Desert crested the dunes to the far right of him, heading straight for the very unfortunate person who was running directly towards it. It was not the biggest sandworm he had ever seen, but it certainly wasn't small as it charged at its prey. While he watched the person almost get eaten by one of the smaller Makers, who then disappeared so as not to get eaten themselves, the person evaded the attack by switching directions and running toward the dune the Fremen man was on.
He watched as the person got closer, recognizing that she was just a teenage girl, no older than 16, and his heart felt heavy; she could have learned their ways as she was young.
This Shai-Hulud caught up fast, much faster than the little makers had, and the man noticed the girl's demeanor change. He had seen her head dart from side to side looking for an escape, but finding none, he observed as she slowed. She was close enough now that he could see the determination overtake her eyes.
Then, he watched wide-eyed as she, still running, pulled a peculiar object out of her pocket; it was thin and looked like it might crumble to dust if she had dropped it. And then something went flying off of the object and before the man's very eyes, the ...whatever it was... was replaced with a gleaming bronze sword, that matched the reddish-yellow sand of the desert. It glinted in the hot sun and the man could almost imagine how sharp it was.
But apparently, the day was not finished with its surprises for the man as he watched the girl click a button on her bracelet (it almost looked like the devices that housed the Holtzman shields) and watched it fan out into a beautifully designed, old-fashioned shield which was bronze just like the sword.
And perhaps what surprised him the most was that she stopped. And then she turned around, yelling a battle cry, at the open desert. He had also not realized that Shai-Hulud had disappeared, which didn't bode well for either of them.
Then, the ground swallowed her whole.
"Bless the Maker and His water. Bless the coming and going of Him. May His passage cleanse the world. May He keep the world for His people," the man prayed before he sat to wait for the Shai-Hulud to calm down from their frenzy.