𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 - 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒐𝒄

‧⁺˚*･༓𝑻𝑬𝑵༓･*˚⁺‧

They spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, and past amber waves of grain. 

They weren't attacked once, but they didn't relax. 

Percy felt as if they were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity. 

Percy tried to keep a low profile with the help of Phoenix, Annabeth, and Grover because his name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. 

The Trenton Register News showed a photo taken by a tourist as Percy got off the Greyhound bus. He had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. 

The picture's caption read: 

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with two teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth said. "Mortal police could never find us."But she didn't sound so sure. 

The rest of the day Percy spent alternately pacing the length of the train(because he had a really hard time sitting still) or looking out the windows. 

Once, he spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught Percy's eye and waved. Percy looked around the passenger car, but nobody else had noticed. The adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines. 

Another time, toward evening, he saw something huge moving through the woods. He could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and this thing was the size of a Hummer. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and was gone. 

The reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. They couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so they dozed in our seats. 

Percy tried not to drool in his sleep since Phoenix was sitting right next to him. 

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking him up. 

Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Phoenix, Annabeth, and Percy had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed. 

"So," Phoenix asked him, once they'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted."Who wants your help?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?" 

Percy was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time he'd dreamed about the evil voice from the pit. But it bothered him so much that he finally told her. 

Phoenix was quiet for a long time then Annabeth spoke up, "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs." 

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?" 

"I guess...if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?" Annabeth suggested.