After sixteen years, I did not expect to be chased by two metal cows with my aunt sally, little cousin Percy Jackson, and Percy's best friend- Grover Underwood.
but the one thing I never saw coming,
Was Luke castellan.
And the war, duh.
along with t...
It's funny how humans can wrap their minds around things and fit them into their version of reality. It was that very moment, I realized, I was right. the whole world is fucking dumb. It is like those Alian movies, where the Alian, comes in peace. But no~ the stupid government has to shoot at them because they have better technology.
According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.
This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted me and four adolescents in New York and brought us across the country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.
Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal, after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus – 'Why didn't I remember him before?') The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, get a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson (I was beginning to hate this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle 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. Percy Jackson and his two friends were safely in police custody. And poor, poor, Febe Hurn. The older cousin stepped up and stuck to her cousin's side to keep him safe. And who is that blondie, her boyfriend?
The reporters fed us this whole story. We just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras. Luke and I even held hands just for kicks. But between you and me, I liked it a whole lot. I don't mind doing it more often. And let's not forget, percy might get all the hero vibes from the paper and the stupid reporter, but I get the TV spotlight for looking after his dumb ass.
'All I want,' I said, choking back my tears, 'is to see my loving step-uncle again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling us delinquent punks and attention-seeking juveniles, I knew... somehow... we would be okay. And I 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. 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. Percy hides his snorting snickers with a fake tear, well not fake tears. they were real tears. Tear of fucking laughter. 'Loving' my ass.
