{1} 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐘𝐄 | p.jackson

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

| chapter twenty-four |

in which the junkyard of the gods is a real bitch

THEY RODE THE BOAR UNTIL SUNSET, which was about as much as Nia's back end or patience could take. Boar-riding was about as comfortable as riding a giant steel brush over a bed of gravel all day.

Fortunately, Percy had allowed Nia to rest her head on his back so she could get a little bit of sleep, but she hadn't managed to get much because of her uncomfortable position, elation, and panic.

Nia had no idea how many miles they had managed to cover, but the mountains faded into the distance and were replaced by miles of flat, dry land. The grass and scrub brush got sparser and sparser until they were speeding across the desert.

As night fell, the boar came to a stop at a creek bed and snorted. He started drinking the muddy water, then ripped a saguaro cactus out of the ground and chewed it, needles and all. 

"This is as far as he'll go," said Grover. "We need to get off while he's eating." 

"Good enough for me," Nia said, eager to finally get off the boar.

Nobody else needed any convincing. They all slipped off the boar's back while he was busy ripping up cacti. Then they all waddled away as best they could with their saddle sores. 

After its third saguaro and another drink of muddy water, the boar squealed and belched, then whirled around and galloped back toward the east. 

"I guess it likes the mountains better," Percy shrugged.

"I can't blame it," said Thalia. "Look." 

Ahead of them, was a two-lane road half covered with sand. On the other side of the road was a cluster of buildings too small to be a town: a boarded-up house, a taco shop that looked like it hadn't been open since before Zoë Nightshade was born, and a white stucco post office with a sign that read 'GILA CLAW, ARIZONA' hanging crooked above the door.

Nia grimaced. "Nice place."

Beyond all that was a range of hills, but then Nia noticed they weren't regular hills; the countryside was way too flat for that. The hills were enormous mounds of old cars, appliances, and other scrap metal. It was a junkyard that seemed to go on forever. 

"Whoa," said Percy.

"Something tells me we're not going to find a car rental here," Thalia said. She looked over at Grover. "I don't suppose you got another wild boar up your sleeve?" 

Grover was sniffing the wind, looking nervous. He fished out his acorns and threw them into the sand, then played his pipes. They rearranged themselves in a pattern that made no sense to Nia, but Grover looked concerned. 

"That's us," the satyr said. "Those six nuts right there." 

"Which one is me?" Percy asked. 

"The little deformed one," Zoë suggested.