―viii. percy has a gun

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GOOD NEWS: the left tunnel was straight with no side exits, twists, or turns.

Bad news: it was a dead end.

After sprinting a hundred yards, they ran into an enormous boulder that completely blocked their path. Behind them, the sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoed down the corridor. Something—definitely not human—was on their trail.

"Tyson," Percy said, "can you—"

"Yes!" He slammed his shoulder against the rock so hard the whole tunnel shook. Dust trickled from the stone ceiling.

"Hurry!" Grover said. "Don't bring the roof down, but hurry!"

The boulder finally gave way with a horrific grinding noise. Tyson pushed it into a small room, and they all dashed through behind it.

"Close the entrance!" Annabeth said.

They all got on the other side of the boulder and pushed. Whatever was chasing them wailed in frustration as they heaved the rock back into place and sealed the corridor.

"We trapped it," Percy said.

"Or trapped ourselves," Grover said.

Naomi turned. They were in a twenty-foot-square cement room and the opposite wall was covered with metal bars. They'd tunneled straight into a jailcell.

"What in Hades?" Annabeth tugged on the bars. They didn't budge. Through the bars, Naomi could see rows of cells in a ring around a dark courtyard—at least three stories of metal doors and metal catwalks.

"A prison," Percy said. "Maybe Tyson can break—"

"Shh," Grover said. "Listen."

Somewhere above them, deep sobbing echoed through the building. There was another sound, too—a raspy voice muttering something that Naomi couldn't make out. The words were strange, like rocks in a tumbler.

"What's that language?" Percy whispered.

Tyson's eye widened. "Can't be."

"What?" Naomi asked.

Tyson grabbed two bars on the cell door and bent them wide enough for even a Cyclops to slip through.

"Wait!" Grover called.

But Tyson wasn't about to wait. They ran after him. The prison was dark, with only a few dim fluorescent lights to help them see.

"I know this place," Annabeth said. "This is Alcatraz."

"You mean that island near San Francisco?" Percy asked.

Annabeth nodded. "My school took a field trip here. It's like a museum."

It didn't seem possible that they could've popped out of the Labyrinth on the other side of the country, but Annabeth had been living in San Francisco all year, keeping an eye on Mount Tamalpais just across the bay. Naomi figured she knew what she was talking about.

"Freeze," Grover warned.

But Tyson kept going.

Grover grabbed his arm and pulled him back with all his strength. "Stop, Tyson!" he whispered. "Can't you see it?"

Naomi looked where he was pointing, and her heart stopped. On the second-floor balcony, across the courtyard, was the most horrific monster Naomi had ever seen.

It looked a bit like a centaur, with a woman's body from the waist up. But her lower half was that of a dragon—at least twenty feet long, with black scales, deadly claws, and a barbed tail. Her legs looked like they were tangled in vines, but then Naomi realized they were snakes, not vines—hundreds of vipers darting around, constantly looking for something to sink their teeth into. The woman's hair was also made of snakes, like Medusa's. Weirdest of all, though, was her waist. Where the human upper half met the dragon lower half, her skin bubbled and morphed, occasionally producing the heads of animals. Naomi saw a vicious wolf, a roaring bear, a snarling lion—like she was wearing a belt of ever-changing predators. Naomi had a feeling she was looking at something only half-formed; a monster from the very beginning of time, before shapes had been fully defined.

This Dark Night  ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹Where stories live. Discover now