Hopeful - Luke Castellan [1]

13 ~ I Plunge To My Death Because Of A Mutt

We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain. We weren't attacked once, but I didn't relax. I felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.

I tried to keep a low profile because my name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as I got off the Greyhound bus. I had a wild look in my eyes.

The picture's caption read: Fifteen-year-old Adelaide Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of her mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where she accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with three teenage accomplices. Her stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to her capture.

I clenched my fist at the thought of Gabe and thought about all of the ways that I wanted to punch Gabe in the face. I jolted when I felt something touch my clenched fist. I looked and noticed that Luke had grabbed my clenched fist and was rubbing it soothingly.

I got mad quite easily and now I knew that it was due to my father in part. However, I felt myself calming down the more Luke rubbed my hand. I slowly unclenched my fist and he slipped his hand into mine. I looked at him and smiled. When I looked at Grover and Annabeth, Grover was smiling while looking at the two of us but Annabeth was looking sadly at our intertwined hands.

Luke looked at me "don't worry angel," I blushed once again at the nickname. "We've got your back always." I nodded and looked out the window. I inaudibly gasped seeing the centaurs. The little boy centaur, the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught my eye and waved. I looked around the passenger car, but nobody else had noticed. The adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines.

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.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats. My neck got stiff. I tried not to lean on Luke since he was right next to me but that idea ended when Luke practically forced me to lay my head on his shoulders.

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking us up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth, Luke, and I had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed. "So," Annabeth asked me, once we'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted as Luke played once again with his pocket knife. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?" I was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time I'd dreamed about the evil voice from the pit. But it bothered me so much that I finally told them.

Luke tensed next to me and looked up as 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?" I shook my head, wishing I knew the answer. I thought about what Grover had told me, that the Furies on the bus seemed to have been looking for something. Where is it? Where?