craving |PERCY JACKSON| [book 1] UNDER EDITING

XXVI

THE WAR GOD WAS WAITING FOR THEM in the diner parking lot. "Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," Percy glared,

Ares gave him a wicked grin, "Bet that crippled black-smith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."

The other three caught their breath. Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it over his back, "See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L. A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which read, KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

"You're kidding." Percy huffed,

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job." He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy.

Inside were fresh clothes for all of them, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuf Oreos.

"I don't want your lousy-"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Selena interrupted with a large smiled, giving Percy an elbow to the ribs, "Thanks a lot. "

Reluctantly, Percy slung the backpack over his shoulder. He knew that his anger was being caused by the War God's presence, but he was still itching to punch the God in the nose. He reminded Percy of every bully he had ever faced: Nancy Bobofit, Clarisse, Smelly Gabe, sarcastic teachers, every jerk who'd called him stupid in school or laughed at him when he had gotten expelled.

Percy looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served them dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt them. She dragged the fry cookout from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of the kids.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep his voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?" Percy asked,

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."

"Kept. Why?" He questioned,

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else." Ares rolled his eyes,

"Nobody's controlling me."

He laughed. "Oh yeah? See you around, kid. "

Percy balled up my fists. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues."

Behind his sunglasses, fire glowed. "We'll meet again, Percy Jackson. Next time you're in a fight, watch your back." He revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street.

Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy. "

"I don't care. "

"You don't want a God as your enemy. Especially not that God." Selena told him,

"Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..." He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck, "If we're taking the zoo express, we need to hurry."

They ran across the street and climbed in the back of the big rig, closing the doors behind them. The first thing that hit them was the smell. It was like the world's biggest pan of kitty litter. The trailer was dark inside until Percy had uncapped Anaklusmos. The blade cast a faint bronze light over a very sad scene. 

Sitting in a row of filthy metal cages were three of the most pathetic zoo animals: a zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing.

Someone had thrown the lion a sack of turnips, which he obviously didn't want to eat. The zebra and the antelope had each gotten a Styrofoam tray of hamburger meat. The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read 'OVER THE HILL!'

Apparently, nobody had wanted to get close enough to the lion to mess with him, but the poor thing was pacing around on soiled blankets, in a space way too small for him, panting from the stuffy heat of the trailer. He had flies buzzing around his pink eyes and his ribs showed through his white fur.

"This is kindness?" Grover yelled. "Humane zoo transport?"

He probably would've gone right back outside to beat up the truckers with his reed pipes, but just then the truck's engine roared to life, the trailer started shaking, and they were forced to sit down or fall down.

They huddled in the corner on some mildewed feed sacks, trying to ignore the smell and the heat and the flies. Grover talked to the animals in a series of goat bleats, but they just stared at him sadly. Annabeth was in favor of breaking the cages and freeing them on the spot, but Percy pointed out it wouldn't do much good until the truck stopped moving. 

Selena found a water jug and refilled their bowls and Percy used Anaklusmos to drag the mismatched food out of their cages. He gave the meat to the lion and the turnips to the zebra and the antelope.

Grover calmed the antelope down, while Annabeth used her knife to cut the balloon off his horn. She wanted to cut the gum out of the zebra's mane, too, but they decided that would be too risky with the truck bumping around. Grover promises the animals that they would help them more in the morning, then they settled in for the night.

Grover curled up on a turnip sack; Annabeth opened our bag of Double Stuff Oreos and nibbled on one half-heartedly. Selena tried to cheer them up by reminding them that they were halfway to Los Angeles. Halfway to their destination. It was only June fourteenth. The solstice wasn't until the twenty-first. They could make it in plenty of time.