ENTRAPPED ₂

108

GIVEN A CHOICE BETWEEN DEATH AND THE BUFORD ZIPPY MART, ETHAN WOULD'VE HAD A TOUGH TIME DECIDING. His experiences in the Land of the Dead hadn't been all bad, and at least the food was fresher.

Ethan and Nico roamed the center aisle, picking through food and searching desperately for an expiration date that wasn't at least five years overdue. The bored cashier sat watching them, casually flicking through a magazine about the latest celebrity gossip.

Ethan picked up a bag of powdered donuts and wrinkled his nose. "2009, dude."

Nico sighed. "I miss those Portugal donuts."

"Don't mention that place," Ethan told him. "I still hurt."

Nico nodded sagely. "Amen."

Across Ethan's chest and Nico's biceps, the werewolf claw marks were still swollen and red. Ethan's hadn't been visible when they had walked in, but the cashier had asked Nico if he'd gotten into a fight with a bobcat. Nico had told her that he'd been attacked by werewolves, which shut down that conversation pretty quickly. She was probably watching them because she thought they were crazy.

They bought a first-aid kid, some junk food and soda that was relatively in-date (since the banquet table in Reyna's new magic tent only provided healthy food and fresh water), and some miscellaneous supplies, like extra rope.

Ethan and Nico had both been hoping to find some fresh clothes. Two days since they'd fled San Juan, Ethan was tired of walking around in his tropical islander shirt. Unfortunately, the Zippy Mart only carried short-sleeved shirts with Confederate flags. Seeing as Nico was a small Italian gay boy and Ethan was a one-eyed Japanese guy, he didn't think that really suited their brand, so they were forced to cope with parrots and palm trees.

They walked back to the campsite down a two-lane road under a blazing sun. This part of South Carolina seemed to consist mostly of overgrown fields, punctuated by telephone poles and trees covered in kudzu vines. The town of Buford itself was a collection of portable metal sheds―six or seven, which was also probably the town's population.

Ethan wasn't exactly a sunshine person, but he was hoping the sun would do Nico some good. With every shadow-jump, Ethan could tell the son of Hades was beginning to slip away. In broad daylight, his hand passed through solid objects. His belt and sword kept falling around his ankles for no apparent reason. Once, when he wasn't looking where he was going, he walked straight through a tree.

To say Ethan was worried was an understatement, but he knew that Nico wouldn't like being fussed over, and that kid wouldn't stop until their quest was finished or he died trying to complete it. At this point, even Reyna was willing to let up on him, but Nico was completely determined. He was different since Tartarus. The look in his eyes was less sorrow and more broken glass.

Nico and Ethan had no trouble finding their way back to camp. The Athena Parthenos was the tallest landmark for miles around. In its new camouflage netting, it glittered silver like an extremely flashy forty-foot-tall ghost.

Apparently, the Athena Parthenos had wanted them to visit a place with educational value, because she'd landed right next to a historical marker that read MASSACRE OF BUFORD, on a gravel turnout at the intersection of Nowhere and Nothing.

Reyna's tent sat in a grove of trees about thirty yards back from the road. Nearby lay a rectangular cairn―hundreds of stones piled in the shape of an oversized grave with a grand obelisk for a headstone. Scattered around it were faded wreathes and crushed bouquets of plastic flowers, which made the place seem even more pathetic.

Aurum and Argentum were playing keep-away in the woods with a handball Ethan had bought yesterday from the same mini mart. Ever since getting repaired by the Amazons, the metal dogs had been frisky and full of energy―unlike their owner.