𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩

Chapter V

5
∆

The Worse Taxi Ride Ever

Annabeth was waiting for them in an alley down Church Street with (y/n) and Benny. She pulled Tyson, Cyrus and Percy off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamed past, heading for Meriwether Prep.

"Where'd you find him?" she demanded, pointing at Tyson.

Now, under different circumstances, the siblings would've been really happy to see her. They'd made their peace last summer, despite the fact that her mom was Athena and didn't get along with their dad. They'd really missed Annabeth and camp in general probably more than they wanted to admit.

But they'd just been attacked by cannibal giants, Tyson had saved their lives three or four times, and all Annabeth and (y/n) could do was glare at him like he was the problem.

"He's our friend," Percy told her.

"Is he homeless?"

"What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don't you ask him?"

She looked surprised.

"He's able to speak?" (y/n) blinked.

"I talk," Tyson admitted. "You are pretty."

"Ah! Gross!" Annabeth stepped away from him. (y/n) almost gagged.

Cyrus couldn't believe they were being so rude. He examined Tyson's hands, which he was sure must've been badly scorched by the flaming dodge balls, but they looked fine-grimy and scarred, with dirty fingernails the size of potato chips-but they always looked like that. "Tyson," he said in disbelief. "Your hands aren't even burned."

"Of course not," Annabeth muttered. "I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around."

Tyson seemed fascinated by (y/n)'s messy hair. He tried to touch it, but the boy smacked his hand away.

"Annabeth," Percy said, "what are you talking about? Laistry-what?"

"Laistrygonians. The monsters in the gym. They're a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I've never seen them as far south as New York before."

"Laistry-I can't even say that. What would you call them in English?"

She thought about it for a moment. "Canadians," she decided. "Now come on, we have to get out of here."

"The police'll be after us."

"That's the least of our problems," she said. "Have you been having the dreams?"

"The dreams ... about Grover?" Percy inquired.

Her face turned pale. "Grover? No, what about Grover?"

He told her his dream, about the rainy night somewhere he didn't exactly know, and Grover running from a disembodied voice. "Why? What were you dreaming about?"

Her eyes looked stormy, like her mind was racing a million miles an hour.

"Camp," she said at last. "Big trouble at camp."

"My mom was saying the same thing! But what kind of trouble?" Cyrus frowned.

"I don't know exactly. Something's wrong. We have to get there right away. Monsters have been chasing me all the way from Virginia, trying to stop me. Have you had a lot of attacks?"

Cyrus shook his head. "None all year ... until today."

"None? But how ..." Her eyes drifted to Tyson. "Oh."