𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹

Chapter 12

12 | Fuck It Up, (y/n)!

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.

We weren't attack even once, but Percy was still hyper and super-duper awake.

Me and Percy tried hiding from most people, since, you know, we're both in the news, wanted for being missing. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as we got off the Greyhound bus. I was sweating and heavily breathing, Percy had a startled and crazy look in his eyes. Percy had a metalic blur for Riptide in his hands, and I had Amaranth in my hands. The bow probably was seen as a slingshot or something.

The picture's caption read:

Twelve-year-olds Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, and (y/n) (l/n), wanted for the disappearance of Zaak Gullevard in Brooklyn two weeks ago, are both shown here fleeing from the bus where they accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson and (l/n) fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boys may be traveling with two teenage accomplices. Jackson's stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture, and the director from (l/n) home orphanage said he's also put in a reward for who brought the kid to him.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told me. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure.

The whole day, Percy was pacing around with difficulty to sit still, or just looking out a window. I rarely kept sat down on my seat, only ever still when Annabeth started lecturing me that I wasn't supposed to be eating the food from other people.

Once, I spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The lit-tle boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I waved back.

Another time, toward evening, I saw something huge moving through the woods. I could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and this thing was the size of a Hummer. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and was gone

We didn't have enough money to go much closer to where we needed to go, we only got up to Denver, and our money wasn't enough for a sleeper car, so we feel asleep in our seats. Halfway through the ride, I was still awake, and Percy's head fell into my shoulder. I would've let him sleep on me, but I remembered that he drools in his sleep. Sadly, I wasn't fast enough to push his head off of me, and got a puddle of drool on my shirt. I changed as soon as I got the chance.

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking me up. Once, he shuffle daround and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth, Percy and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," Annabeth asked Percy, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, “I won't help you.”" I told him.

Percy hesitated to tell us, but in the end he told us about this weird dreams he had, about some dead people and a voice that offered his mom back.

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?"

"I guess ... if he meant, “Help me rise from the Underworld.” If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"