Previously
We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.
Now
Percy's POV
The rain began to let up after walking a few miles in the woods. Lou and Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey river bank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.
Grover was shivering and braying, I don't think it was from the cold. His big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. “Three Kindly Ones. All three at once.”
Lou was faring only slightly better. She was also shivering, but not as much as Grover. At that moment, I was tempted to form a shadow sweater for her, but that would only make matters worse.
"All our money was back there,” Lou said, “Our food and clothes. Everything".
"Yeah, and a bag of perfectly good tin cans". Grover added.
" If someone had just stuck to the plan, perhaps, we wouldn't be in this situation". Lou said through gritted teeth.
I turned around and stared at her in disbelief.
I scoffed. "Oh. I'm sorry. Maybe I should have just run off and left two pre-teens to fight three of the worst monsters known to man".
"You didn’t need to protect us Percy. We would’ve been fine.” Lou said.
“Sliced like sandwich bread,” Grover put in, “but fine.”
“Shut up, goat boy,” said Lou.
We continued walking in silence, sloshing across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry, until Lou fell into step with me.
"Look, I…” Her voice faltered. “I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? "That was really brave.”
" Nah, I wouldn't, no couldn't just leave you guys behind". I replied. "You and Grover are the first real friends I've ever had. So don't think I'll just leave you to die on me."
She was silent for a few more steps. “It’s just that if you died…aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over, and the world would become torn apart from the war that would ensue."
"You haven’t left Camp Half-Blood since you were six?” I asked her after a few minutes.
“No…only short field trips. My dad—” She hesitated.
"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to talk about it."
"You're really good with that dagger of yours", I said to her.
“You think so?” she asked and I nodded. In the light of the full moon over head, I saw a smile find its way to her lips.
We were suddenly interrupted by what sounded like the noise a tortured owl would make.
“Hey, my reedpipes stillwork!” Grover cried. “If I could just remember a ‘find path’ song, we could get out of these woods!”
He puffed out a few notes that sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff.
Instead of finding a path, I immediately slammed into a tree and got a nice-size knot on my head.
After tripping and cursing and generally feeling miserable for another mile or so, I started to see light up ahead: the colors of a neon sign. I could smell food. Fried, greasy, excellent food. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything unhealthy since I’d arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where we lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut nymph-prepared barbecue.
