Daughter of Pluto | Wattys2017

XVII

AIMEE STOPPED AT THE DOORS AND TRIED to control her breathing. The voice of the earth woman still rang in her ears, reminding her of her mother's death,which she had remembered while voice had been speaking to her. The last thing she wanted to do was plunge into another dark warehouse. Suddenly she felt nine years old again, alone and helpless as someone she cared about was trapped and in trouble.

Stop it, she told herself. That's how she wants you to feel.

But that didn't make her any less scared. She took a deep breath and peered inside. Nothing looked different. Gray morning light filtered through the hole in the roof. A few light bulbs flickered, but most of the factory floor was still lost in shadows. She could make out the catwalk above, the dim shapes of heavy machinery along the assembly line, but no movement. No sign of their friends.

Leo almost called out, but something stopped him. Aimee realized it was smell. Something smelled wrong—like burning motor oil and sour breath.

Something not human was inside the factory. Aimee was certain. Her body shifted into high gear, all her nerves tingling.

Somewhere on the factory floor, Piper's voice cried out: "Leo,Aimee help!"

But they held their tongues. How could Piper have gotten off the catwalk with her broken ankle?

They slipped inside and ducked behind a cargo container. Slowly, gripping their weapons, they worked their way toward the center of the room, hiding behind boxes and hollow truck chassis. Finally they reached the assembly line. They crouched behind the nearest piece of machinery—a crane with a robotic arm.

Piper's voice called out again: "Leo?Aimee?" Less certain this time, but very close.

Aimee peeked around the machinery then pointed out what she saw to Leo. Hanging directly above the assembly line, suspended by a chain from a crane on the opposite side, was a massive truck engine—just dangling thirty feet up, as if it had been left there when the factory was abandoned. Below it on the conveyor belt sat a truck chassis, and clustered around it were three dark shapes the size of forklifts. Nearby, dangling from chains on two other robotic arms, were two smaller shapes—maybe more engines, but one of them was twisting around as if it were alive.

Then one of the forklift shapes rose, and Aimee realized it was a humanoid of massive size. "Told you it was nothing," the thing rumbled. Its voice was too deep and feral to be human.

One of the other forklift-sized lumps shifted, and called out in Piper's voice: "Leo,Aimee help me! Help—" Then the voice changed, becoming a masculine snarl. "Bah, there's nobody out there. No demigod could be that quiet, eh?"

The first monster chuckled. "Probably ran away, if they know what's good for then. Or the girl was lying about the two other demigods. Let's get cooking."

Snap. A bright orange light sizzled to life—an emergency flare—and Aimee was temporarily blinded. She ducked back behind the crane sitting at Leo's feet until the spots cleared from her eyes. Then she took another peep and saw a nightmare scene even the Fates couldn't have dreamed up.

The two smaller things dangling from crane arms weren't engines. They were Jason and Piper. Both hung upside down, tied by their ankles and cocooned with chains up to their necks. Piper was flailing around, trying to free herself. Her mouth was gagged, but at least she was alive. Jason didn't look so good. He hung limply, his eyes rolled up in his head. A red welt the size of an apple had swollen over his left eyebrow.Leo looked at Aimee who looked ready to murder,and to be completely honest he wanted to kill whatever did this to their friends too.

On the conveyor belt, the bed of the unfinished pickup truck was being used as a fire pit. The emergency flare had ignited a mixture of tires and wood, which, from the smell of it, had been doused in kerosene. A big metal pole was suspended over the flames—a spit, Aimee realized, which meant this was a cooking fire.