a story as endless as the ocean . pjo / allie jackson

1.3 avoid detection

1.3 Joining the Witness Protection Program Lookin' Really Sexy Right About Now

Remember when I got attacked by that hellhound and I didn't really make a noise and was just kind of... calm?

Yeah, that didn't happen this time.

I was a little too busy screaming to concentrate on coming to terms with my impending doom or think of anything philosophical.

It was only about halfway down did I finally calm myself. I looked down and the river raced toward me at the speed of a truck. Wind ripped the breath from my lungs. Steeples and skyscrapers and bridges tumbled in and out of my vision.

And then: Boooom! There was a whiteout of bubbles. I sank through the murk, sure that I was about to end up embedded in a hundred feet of mud and lost forever.

But my impact with the water hadn't hurt. I was falling slowly now, bubbles trickling up through my fingers. I settled on the river bottom soundlessly. A catfish the size of my step-father lurched away into the gloom. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage— beer bottles, old shoes, plastic bags— swirled up all around me.

Then it hit me. I was at the bottom of a river, and I was dry. Weird, but I was alive, so it was a good weird. Alive is always good. Usually, anyway. I was breathing. I was fine.

Sort of.

On impulse I grabbed an abandoned lighter floating nearby and flicked it on. When I held the spark to a soggy paper bag, it lit up. Right there at the bottom of the Mississippi. I pulled the lighter back, stowing it in my pocket, and the fire went out as soon as my skin was away from it.

So, that was a 'yes' in regard to the question of whether or not I'd received any powers from my father or not. At least I wasn't causing earthquakes when I was pissed off. That was something. The thought of having that power terrified me.

I stood shakily, thigh-deep in mud. I could hear a voice, similar to my mother's, prodding me. 'Allie, what do you say?'

"Uhm, thanks, Father," I mumbled uncomfortably. "I appreciate it." Underwater, I sounded like I did on recordings, my voice slightly distorted and deeper.

I bit my lip as I thought about the poor people up in the Arch. What had happened to them? Katie had said once that monsters didn't really bother with regular mortals, but even if Echidna had left them alone, the Arch had still exploded. They could be seriously hurt, or dead. They were definitely traumatized for life if they had survived. Did Echidna kill the mortals because I killed the Chimera? I didn't know if I wanted to find out.

I almost wanted to stay down there for the rest of my life. Away from prophecies, and genetics demanding I be a hero, and holding the fate of the world in my hands.

I'd always thought that those stories with teenagers as the protagonists were crap. No teen, hell no adult, could handle the pressure of being responsible for the fate of the world in their hands without going insane.

Fump-fump-fump. A riverboat's paddlewheel churned above me, swirling the silt around.

There, not five feet in front of me, was Riptide, its gleaming bronze hilt sticking up in the mud, my custom Dior sunglasses dangling from the side.

I heard that woman's voice again: 'Allie, take the sword. Your father believes in you.' This time, I knew the voice wasn't in my head. I wasn't imagining it. Her words seemed to come from everywhere, rippling through the water like dolphin sonar.

"Where are you?" I called aloud. Then, through the gloom, I saw her— a woman the color of the water, a ghost in the current, floating just above the sword. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes, barely visible, were blue, reminding me of someone.