ATLOP: Trial by Fire

I Settle My Tab

I hope you enjoy the chapter!

You may have also noticed I changed the book name, I did that on all the sites. I just wasn't vibing with the previous name.

Come yell at me on tumblr: Percabeth4Life
Come chat with me on discord: https://discord.gg/3tGNJhu

OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO OO

It was actually kinda funny how humans could wrap their minds around things and change the facts to fit them into their version of reality.

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper (Ares) fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and two other adolescents (Annabeth and Grover) in New York and brought us across the country on a ten-day odyssey of terror (poor us).

Poor little Perseus Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all (shocking)! He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor, the crazy kidnapper (Ares). Just go back and ask the witnesses! Their fear made them forget the leather-clad man that was on the bus— "Why didn't I remember him before?" They said.

This crazy man (Ares) had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch (though the police were still scratching their heads over the moose and freak gardening accident). After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees (us) outside her diner, and got her friend to take a photo, notifying the police (nice lady).

Finally, brave Perseus Jackson (I've gotta say I like this kid) stood up to his captor in Los Angeles and battled him, bare hand-to-shotgun on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Perseus Jackson and his two friends were safely in police custody.

The reporters fed us this whole story (very helpful of them). We just nodded along and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard) and played victimized kids for the cameras.

When I was put in front of the camera, I put on the saddest, most miserable, and most relieved face I could.

"All I really want," I said, choking back my tears (or my laughter), "is to see... my... my loving stepfather again. Every time... Every time I saw him on TV... calling- calling me a delinquent punk... I knew... somehow.... We would all... we would all be okay. And I know... I just know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store."

I smiled brightly at the camera, "Here's the phone number."

The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York. So very kind of them, really touching that they'd do something so generous.

I hid a grin.

I knew that there was no choice but to fly. I hoped Zeus would cut me some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still... very hard... to force myself on board the flight.

I was just glad that the police also bought me a pair of shoes before the flight, it would've been awkward without them.

Takeoff was a nightmare, and every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek terror.

Annabeth tried to distract me.

I gave her back her prayer bracelet, and Grover his panpipes.