Chapter 8 (24) Things Blow Up

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"You are in so much trouble," Clarisse said.

We’d just finished a ship tour I didn’t nessacarily care for, through dark rooms overcrowded with dead sailors. The others had seen the coal bunker, the boilers and engine, which huffed and groaned like it would explode any minute. They also saw the pilot house and the powder magazine and gunnery deck (Clarisse’s favourite) with two Dahlgren smoothbore cannons on the port and starboard sides and a Brooke nine-inch rifled gun fore and aft – all specially refitted to fire celestial bronze cannonballs. Clarisse said I could shoot them if I wanted.

Everywhere we went, dead Confederate sailors stared at us, their ghostly bearded silouhettes shimmering over their skeletons. They approved of Annabeth because she told them she was from Virginia. They were interested in Percy, too, because my name was Jackson – like the Southern general – but then he ruined it by telling them he was from New York. They all hissed and muttered curses about Yankees. I managed to avoid the question, not my fault I couldn't read map to tell where I was.

Tyson was terrified of them. All through the tour, he insisted Annabeth hold his hand, which she didn’t sound too thrilled about.

Finally, we were escorted to dinner. The CSS Birmingham captain’s quarters were about the size of a walk-in closet, but still much bigger than any other room on board. The table was set with plates of sort. I managed to grab a bag of potato chips and started to eat them. Their was also Dr Pepper, but I prefered Coca Cola if I had to drink soda. Mama gave me a tiny coca cola bear plushie one christmas.

"Tantalus expelled you for eternity," Clarisse told us smugly. "Mr D said if any of you show your face at camp again, he’ll turn you into squirrels and run you over with his SUV."

"Did they give you this ship?" Percy asked.

"Course not. My father did."

"Ares?"

Clarisse sneered. "You think your daddy is the only one with sea power? The spirits on the losing side of every war owe a tribute to Ares. That’s their curse for being defeated. I prayed to my father for a naval transport and here it is. These guys will do anything I tell them. Won’t you, Captain?"

The captain stood behind her. His glowing green eyes fixed on Percy. "If it means an end to this infernal war, ma’am, peace at last, we’ll do anything. Destroy anyone."

Clarisse sounded pleased. "Destroy anyone. I like that."

Tyson gulped.

"Clarisse," Annabeth said, "Luke might be after the Fleece, too. We saw him. He’s got the coordinates and he’s heading south. He has a cruise ship full of monsters –"

"Good! I'll blow him out of the water."

"You don’t understand," Annabeth said. "We have to combine forces. Let us help you –"

"No!" Clarisse pounded the table. "This is my quest, smart girl! Finally I get to be the hero, and you two will not steal my chance."

"Where are your cabin mates?" Percy asked. "You were allowed to take two friends with you, weren’t you?"

"They didn’t … I let them stay behind. To protect the camp."

Lie... partially.

"You mean even the people in your own cabin wouldn’t help you?"

"Shut up, Prissy! I don’t need them! Or you!"

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