XVII

1.5K 42 1
                                    

Leo's pov

I stopped at the doors and tried to control my breathing. The voice of the earth woman still rang in my ears, reminding me of my mother's death. The last thing I wanted to do was plunge into another dark warehouse. Suddenly I felt eight years old again, alone and helpless as someone I cared about was trapped  and in trouble.

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

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

I almost called out, but something stopped me--a sense I couldn't identify. Then I realized it was smell. Something smelled wrong--like burning motor oil and sour breath.

Something not human was inside the factory. I was certain. My body shifted into high gear, all my nerves tingling.

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

But I held my tongue. How could Piper have gotten off the catwalk with her broken ankle?

We slipped inside and ducked behind a cargo container.

Slowly gripping my hammer, Tori and I worked our way toward the center of the room, hiding behind boxes and hollow truck chassis. Finally we reached the assembly line. We crouched behind the nearest piece of machinery--a crane with a robotic arm.

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

I peeked around the machinery. Hanging directly above the assembly line, suspended by a chain from a crane in 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, 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 forklifts shapes rose, and I realized it was a humanoid of massive size. "Told you it was nothing," the thing rumbled. It's voice was too deep and feral to be human. One of the forklift-sized lumps shifted, and called out in Piper's voice: "Leo, Tori, 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 them. Or the girl was lying about two more demigods. Let's get cooking."

A bright orange light sizzled to life--an emergency flare--and I was temporarily blinded. I ducked behind the crane until the spots cleared from my eyes. Then I took another peep and saw a nightmare scene even Tiá Callida couldn't have dreamed it up.

The two smaller things dangling from crane arms weren't engines. They were Piper and Jason. Both hung upside down, tied by their ankles and cocooned with chains up to their necks. Piper was flailing around, trying to free herself. Jason didn't look so good. He hung limply, his eyes rolled head. A red welt the size of an apple had swollen over his left eyebrow.

On the conveyer belt, the bed of 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, I realized, which meant this was a cooking fire.

Daughter of Neptune, Book oneWhere stories live. Discover now