LUNACY; percy jackson

chapter 8

[act one; chapter eight     -     to drown or to fly?] 

    Andromeda Storm had imagined her death many times. Many ways. There were always so many possibilities, especially given the way her life had already gone. The way that she had already lived and nearly died.

    She imagined that maybe, just maybe, she would die in a bed in a senior living facility, memory foggy and skin wrinkled. Or maybe she would die on a battlefield, fighting for the life that she had fought so hard to create. Or maybe she would pass sometime in her sleep, a phenomena, if you asked her.

    But not like this. No, never like this.

    She tumbled through the air, feeling as it folded around her, feeling as it pricked and tore at the skin that had become her armor. She could feel it, feel it rip at the torn skin. She could feel the blood; nearly even tasted it on her tongue. She knew what was coming. And she found that she was not afraid.

    No. No, Andromeda Storm was terrified.

    And the next thing she knew, everything was painfully dark.

———

    Percy hit the water just seconds after she did. He had watched the wind fold around her, almost like an invisible casket, preparing her for the death that surely awaited her.

    He just prayed to the Gods that she was still alive, that maybe, by some miracle, she hadn't died on impact.

    He thought hitting the water would hurt, that his arms and back would sting, or maybe his lungs would give out on him, but his impact with the water hadn't hurt. Not really, at least. He was falling slowly then, bubbles trickling up through his fingers, passing by him as if he were just another creature of the sea. He settled on the river bottom soundlessly, untouched. A catfish the size of his stepfather lurched away into the gloom. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage—beer bottles, old shoes, plastic bags— swirled up all around him.