Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

054, bro's from frown town

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
FINLEY               BRIGGS

Finn was running for her life through her mother's old house in Colorado, where she'd died killing herself when Finn was six.

She wasn't sure what was chasing her, but she sensed it closing in fast—something large and dark and full of hate.

She stumbled into the couch, knocked over kitchen supplies, and tripped on the carpet rug. She spotted the front door and sprinted toward it, but a figure loomed in front of her—a woman in robes of dry swirling earth, her face covered in a veil of dust.

Where are you going, crazy hero? Gaea asked. Stay, and meet my favorite son.

Finn darted to the left, but the Earth Goddess's laughter followed her.

That night your mother died, I warned you. I said the Fates would not allow me to kill you then. But now you have chosen your path. Your death is near, Finley Briggs.

She ran into the kitchen island—her mother's favorite spot in the house. The fridge behind it was decorated with Finn's crayon drawings. She sobbed in desperation and turned, but the thing pursuing her now stood in her path—a colossal being wrapped in shadows, its shape vaguely humanoid, its head almost scraping the ceiling twenty feet above.

Insanity coursed through Finn's veins. She sent a wave of it towards the giant, but the darkness consumed her madness. Finn reached for her thigh holster. The gun was stuck inside. She tried to speak—to say anything that would save her life—but she couldn't make a sound, as if the air had been stolen from her lungs.

My son will not allow any insanity tonight, Gaea said from the depths of the house. He is the void that consumes all magic, the silence that consumes all speech.

Finn wanted to shout: Fuck that, I'm out of here!

Her voice didn't work, so she used her feet. She dashed to the right, ducking under the shadowy giant's grasping hands, and burst through the nearest doorway.

Suddenly, she found herself at Camp Half-Blood. Now, Finn had never been to nor seen Camp Half-Blood before, but she still knew what it looked like. That was because of Leo's invention in the dining hall. She knew this wasn't right. The camp was in ruins. The cabins were charred husks. Burned fields smoldered in the moonlight. The dining pavilion was a pile of white rubble, and there was a big house on fire, its windows glowing like demon eyes.

Finn kept running, sure the shadow giant was still behind her.

She wove around the bodies of Greek and Roman demigods. She should probably check if they were alive, or help them, but she was running out of time.

She jogged toward the only living people she saw—a group of Romans standing at a volleyball pit. The centurions of the Second Cohort leaned casually on their javelins, chatting with a tall skinny blond guy in a purple toga. Finn stumbled. It was Octavian, the augur from Camp Jupiter, who was always screaming for war.

Octavian turned to face her, but he seemed to be in a trance. His features were slack, his eyes closed. When spoke, it was in Gaea's voice: This cannot be prevented. The Romans move easily from New York. Your people advance on the Greek camp, and nothing can slow them down.