Wolf Girl

Cold Truth

Lets get intense.

Chapter 22

The cold frosty air of Percy's room jolted him awake. Goosebumps slowly appeared around his arms which lay out in the open, resting above the covers. With a quick glance at the window he saw a fine mist, a blank white blizzard of unmoving, calm mist. It was so thick he found it impossible to see the trees just on the other side of the road which passed horizontally next to the house. His room was painted with a snowy pale light, with soft grey shadows in the corners.

The house sounded empty, there was no noise to be heard. Rubbing his eyes free from sleep, Percy glanced at the clock to his right, which sat on a smooth black bed stand. The dim glow of the red numbers read 8:00 A.M. But there was something else different about the scene before him that had changed since he'd fallen asleep. There was a note, written in neat little letters on a thin piece of blank white paper;

I've left for the snow, I know I shouldn't have, but I asked Edward to come with me as well. It's selfish, but I can't help myself. He's going to create the fake trail to the ambush—then continue past that and find his way into the mountains. It leaves you with less numbers than before, less hope. But I can dream you will find the strength in your heart to forgive me. Attached to the back of this paper is a map of where to go for the ambush, in case you may get lost along the way. I printed it out from google maps and taped it to the back.

Trust Yourself,

Bella

The map was indeed taped to the back, in a rather crude job it looked as if Bella had been in a hurry as the paper was wrinkled and torn in places where she may have fumbled with her hands. Percy sighed, one less man meant an even larger number of odds stacked against them. The whole situation was beginning to appear desperate, impossible, improbable. Yet he had been in this very same situation many times before, and he knew just how to look for the promise in things. Those grounds for hope that had pulled him through even the depths of Tartarus itself.

It came from the people he surrounded himself with, those who would stand beside him. Even in the cool battle hardened face of death. The trustful bond was the only thing that had kept him alive in the past, and today would be no different.

20 minutes later Percy was following the map. He was holding it out in front of him using the white light of the seemingly solid mist to find his way. Before leaving, he had noticed a large grey tarp covering an oddly shaped object in the corner of the garage. Uncovering it and waving with his hand away the many numerous dust particles that floated in its wake, Percy caught a glimpse of the object beneath. It was a motorcycle, dull and bland in worn out color, but still a motorcycle nonetheless.

It had surprised him, Charlie hadn't seemed like the type to own one of those, "death machines" as he would probably call it, but somehow it was there. Wiping a smudge of the grey dust off with a flick of his finger, Percy then pulled the bike forward and out of the open garage, into the mist. He had never ridden one before, so he was a little anxious about the whole thing, but after one small fall and a couple off hard slams on the brakes he had gotten used to the sensation.

With the air in his face, blowing past him, rippling the map with a quick tatatatatat— Percy felt his fears fall away with the sheer exhilaration of speed. A twist of the handle and he revved the loud engine, which growled like an inhuman beast responding to the taunt of battle. His hair flew back in a straight, quivering line. He had to continuously blink the dryness caused by the wind from his eyes, squinting into the heavy cloud. Surrounded by an impossible white, it was a lucky thing no one else seemed to be on the road or Percy would have surly crashed by now.