The Spirits of the Universe (PJO)

Chapter 42--We Test Out a Rope

The riderless horses charged towards the stands. They had sturdy wooden fences to compete with, but they battered through them like they were made of paper and effortlessly continued toward the audience sections.

These animals were made for running—pounds upon pounds of muscle and almost limitless stamina . . . 

And right now, they were full on beasts.

Even if I was the one in control right now, I doubt I could do anything. I caught quick glimpses of the animals during the stampede—red, unfocused eyes, snot running down their snouts disgustingly, and gnashing of teeth. Even worse, as the animals shoved spectators aside, the humans stood up shakily, their eyes slowly turning blood red—then they attacked their fellow humans. It was obvious that the horses weren't doing this on their own accord, meaning alking to them with my dad's gift wouldn't probably work.

I had a bunch of questions—like who I was, why this situation happened in the first place, and why the hell I'd been selected to experience this—and whoever I was watching probably had even more. However, when it came to dangerous situations, humans could coordinate their actions even better than the average pair of identical twins. We both had the same thought: I should probably run.

We were close to the back of the audience stands. While this probably resulted in my daughter (c'mon, is it really that hard to believe?) complaining for better seats to watch the race, this inconvenience turned out to be a godsend: we were the farthest away from the out-of-control horses—and there were still several rows of civilians between them and us.

There was one disadvantage of our location, though. Getting to the stairs—or even one of the first rows to jump down from a safe height—required us to go through the chaos. That left only one more option: the back.

I know what you're thinking: But Percy, it's your job as a demigod to save these people and their families.

But I had a family now. Nothing came before protecting them—especially when they couldn't protect themselves.

The climb to the top of the stands took longer than it should've. We had to shove through dozens of people who, in the panic of the situation, had opted to shelf their social anxiety and put their survival first over others. Additionally, with the stands shaking and screaming from down below, every simple action seemed to take an eternity.

Eventually, we reached the back corner of the stands. It was thirty feet of pure air down to hard, compact soil—a height that was ever the more terrifying due to the fact that, in the panic, there was the chance of being randomly body slammed over the railing to your death.

Fortunately, it seemed as though not everyone had let adrenaline take over. Some courageous men and women had taken charge of the situation, scrouging various loose items of clothing—hoodies, jackets, and the occasional two-feet-long cotton candy wrapper to construct an impromptu rope that dangled over the railing. The knot didn't look sturdy enough to hold even a pound, let alone an entire human, but nevertheless, people were grabbing it to rappel to the ground as if their lives depended on it—which, to be fair, they kind of did.

At that moment, the man managing the rope spotted us. "Let the kid go first!" he yelled, and the crowd reluctantly parted.

At least some people still have their morals. I rushed forward, but when we reached the railing, my daughter wouldn't let go of my hand. Ignoring the shouts of bewilderment, I knelt and looked into her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"I don't think I can do this, Dad. I'm scared."

Her eyes were filled with fear, and I thought back to the situation at hand: danger present everywhere, chaos around us, and the collapse of regular human order. This was a normal situation for me, but my hands still shook slightly. For my daughter, who stood a few inches shorter than the railing and shouldn't have to face anything stressful like this at her young age, this was obviously too much for her. I need to help her.

I kept my voice low and calm. "It's alright to be scared. It's a normal human emotion. But right now, I need you to hold in your fear and climb down that rope for your safety."

"But I'm scared of heights—"

"I'll be right behind you, dear. Nothing will happen, I promise. All you need to do is reach the ground, and everything will be over. Maybe we can even get a scoop of ice cream on our way home."

"Two scoops."

"Fine. Two scoops. But you have to get moving, okay?"

She cracked a smile, but she couldn't make the tears stop falling. "I'll see you on the ground, Dad." She released my hand. I picked her up and placed her hands on the rope. She grabbed on tightly, and I slowly let go. Within seconds, she slid down, and the people who had gone down before her ensured she was safe. She looked up and gave me a wobbly smile. "Dad, it's your turn now!"

Before I could reply, though, the stands collapsed.