"He deserved more than that. More than a chapter, more than entire epics, he deserved to live, the Fields of Asphodel will never deserve someone as devoted and good as him. He lived for justice, he died for justice, but I would throw that justice at...
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Overnight Express
╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
"Is this it?" Nico yawned, before being kicked out the bus door by me. "We're here?"
"I mean, we did pass this gigantic plaque that said in all caps 'WELCOME TO WESTCHESTER COUNTY', so probably, yeah." Connor chuckled, happily walking past Nico. "Dude, this is awesome."
He was repeatedly moving his hand over an automatic trash can, hysterically laughing as the lid opened and closed by itself. He drew some annoyed glances from bystanders, but didn't seem to care much. Some middle-aged lady seemed like she might scold him, but ended up not saying anything.
If I'm honest, we'd gotten side eyes from the crowd since the moment Gasper had gone into the ticket booth to pay for our seats. Reasonably, maybe. It was the way we walked, or maybe it was the fact that he seemed downright vicious with the scars that stretched from his wrists to his face, and it could even be the tattoo that slid from his shoulder to his elbow. Worthy of a stare.
The five of us stood on the sidewalk of the town, each with their own backpack. None of us had slept properly the night before, and now we were all yawning and stretching like we'd just woken up. I grabbed Connor's arm and checked his wristwatch.
"Ten thirty." I read, sighing. "Weren't we supposed to be here at ten?"
"Like the bus driver cares about that." shrugged Gasper, spitting chewed gum onto the curb while an old man judged him silently. "Welcome to the mortal world, Nakamura. No one gives a fuck, because they don't know they could die any moment if some fuck upstairs is in a bad mood."
We moved forward, leaving the bus station behind us and stepping into what seemed to be the center of the town.
People walked hurriedly, but they didn't seem as annoyed and rushed as the New Yorkers (it's pretty hard to get more annoyed and rushed than the New Yorkers). Under the half-urban background noise, you could hear, if you tried to, the chirping of birds in neighboring woods. Tall-ish buildings stood organized and still, quietly reflecting the dim sunlight. In some store displays, the Halloween decorations were already up.
Connor walked in front. In the bus, he'd mentioned that he knew where his dad was working, and that he'd be able to get us there from memory.
We walked fast, and the air between us was only half casual. Clearly, we weren't as tense as last night, after almost being mauled apart by that cute puppy, but even if our quest hadn't started, we were still a group of demigods. That, as our common experience had proven, tended to attract some hungry mythological creatures (such as our four-legged friend, per se) that would do us much better had they stayed in Ancient Greece.
