The Lightning Thief - Something's been Stolen

HOW DEMIGODS GO SIGHT-SEEING

Still some corrections to be made, but here's the next chapter :D

Thanks to all you faithful readers :)

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

We weren't attacked once, but we didn't relax.

Percy tried to keep a low profile 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 we got off the Greyhound bus. Percy had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands, being blurred with the mist as something other than a lethal sword.

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.

Great, I didn’t know Percy had some evil stepfather that wants him captured too. And to top it all off, Grover and I had been discovered as part of the chase too.

But I could tell Percy was getting a bit stressed. He had only been in the world of demigods for a couple of days now, and already everyone wants to kill him. I tried to reassure him, but I couldn’t see how any words could make it better.

"Don't worry," I told him. "Mortal police could never find us." It was only partially true. They could find us in person, but the wouldn’t be able to prove our guilt through the mist…

The rest of the day I spent reading my book and trying to relax. It was hard though; because Grover kept trying to eat the chip bags-which I thought would attract attention as weird- and Percy kept pacing the train or sitting next to me, staring out the window.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so Percy and Grover dozed in their seats. I tried to ignore the fact that Percy was right next to me, drooling; it was easier than ignoring Grover. Grover kept snoring and bleating and making me loose my focus on reading.

In his sleep, Percy strained, as if trying to move backwards into the seat. He kept mumbling something over again. I sighed and gave up on reading. What with a continuously bleating goat and an active dreamer with a serious drooling issue right next to me.

I looked around me, trying to look for something interesting, but there was nothing of that sort. The landscape stretched for hours, the people on the train were too busy staring into screens or books. The only movement on the train was Percy, Grover, and the man sitting two seats in front of me, playing with his phone and picking his nose. Ew.

“No…” Percy muttered again in his sleep. I listened closely, not feeling the slightest bit guilty. Percy shook his head in his sleep, and muttered something barely decipherable. “I won’t help you…”

Now that I found interesting. My brain was already filling with questions. Who won’t he help? What was he dreaming about? Why didn’t he keep backing up into his seat?