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

2.0 the death of the world

2.0 My Day Doesn't Get Any Better and In Fact, Just Gets Infinitely Worse

I think it's kinda funny, in a bitter way, how mortals can wrap their minds around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told me that a while ago, but I didn't really appreciate his wisdom until right now.

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 almost abducted me and two other adolescents in Denver and made us go with him and do whatever it was he wanted.

The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch, the police had connected. I, of course, was already in Colorado for a trip, so how could I have been involved? A concerned waitress in Denver had apparently seen the man threatening us outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, Allie Jackson (a name and story that would probably be trending on Twitter for a little more than a day) had stolen a gun from her 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. Allie Jackson and her two friends were safely in police custody.

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, utilizing the brilliant acting skills every child of Hermes had, and I, using my career to my advantage, somehow convinced the police that putting the three of us on a plane home straight away, without visiting a hospital or anything, was a good idea. In fact, the police and reporters were so moved by our sob-story that they allowed us to get our tickets and completely bypass all security and everything, just to get us back to New York as quick as possible.

I knew there was no choice but to fly. Nothing else would get us there in time so I hoped Zeus would cut me some slack, considering the circumstances. I mean, he hadn't caught me before, but then again, that was before he knew I was his brother's forbidden daughter. I wasn't too worried until we were actually in the air.

Take-off was a complete nightmare. Every spot of turbulence felt scarier than a Greek monster. I didn't sleep the entire trip and I wouldn't take my eyes off of the T.V. screen in front of me until we touched down safely at JFK. The boys spent their time praying to the gods for mercy in the seats on either side of me. At least we got first-class. They thanked me for that later.

When we finally landed, only the time constraints we were under kept me from actually kneeling down and kissing the ground.

The local press was waiting for us outside security, but we managed to evade them thanks to Luke, who lured them away by shouting, "They're over by the frozen yogurt! Come on!" from behind a pillar, before he re-joined us at baggage claim.

We split up at the taxi stand. I told the boys to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened. They protested, and it was hard to let them go after all we'd been through, but I knew I had to do this last part of the quest by myself. If things went wrong, if the gods didn't believe me... I wanted my boys to survive and tell Chiron the truth.

Then, after one last deep breath to steel my trembling nerves, I hopped in a taxi and headed into Manhattan.

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building. I must have looked like a homeless kid, with my tattered Chanel set and my scraped-up face. I hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours and I smelt awful, I'm sure.