The Book of History (Discontinued)

Hailey V: The Headache of Doom

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my friend for her birthday! I know this took a while and I was late for the actual day of her birthday, but I tried my best. I know how much she bugs me to get these chapters done. I hope she likes it, and I hope all you like it as well even though it's probably only a few people reading. Oh well. Anyways, enjoy!

'Move to New York', they said. 'It'd be fun', they said.

I don't think I can name one positive thing that resulted in moving to this dump. I didn't ask to be a demigod. I didn't ask to almost die. And I certainly didn't ask to be involved in the apocalypse because of a book.

I curse as I shuffle around in my cabin—the Poseidon cabin. Beth was sleeping in the bunk above me and Percy was drooling all over his face in the bed opposite mine. I couldn't understand how they could sleep so peacefully. I kicked some dust the harpies forgot to clean. I sighed as I watched as Beth shifted in her pile of blankets and snored. What a dork.

I shuffled over to the window and leaned on the sill with my arms crossed. This place is too dangerous. I can't stay. I can't be a part of this. It's not because of the whole manticore thing, I don't really care just as long as the others fled. But that dream . . . That lady. I shivered as I watched the harpies circle hungrily in the sky, searching for any stray demigods. I scanned the layout of the camp. The Poseidon cabin was at the end of the cluster, the strawberry fields stretched to the left and in front of the mini houses, the Big House was seated at the base of the hill where there lay a sleeping dragon . . . Of course this wouldn't be easy.

But like the stubborn person I am, I kneel in front of the chest at the foot of the bunk bed Beth and I shared and started throwing out the little that I got from here onto the floor. Simple things like a backpack, some ambrosia, an extra orange T-shirt and leggings, and then a small medkit. I then reached down and grabbed my dagger and thigh holster it hung from. This was in case I ran out of arrows or I was too close to fire one. I grabbed the full, silver quiver and bow hanging from the post of the bed and slung each items over either shoulder and over my backpack. My head pounded as I looked back at my comrades fast asleep. It was like a fist knocking against my forehead saying, Go!

So I did go.

Past the door, leaping in shadows as I blundered across the fields full of red berries, and sprinting past the threatening dragon, I couldn't believe I wasn't caught. I didn't stop running, as much as my lungs and heart protested, until I sped through dozens of alleyways and took so many turns until I knew for sure that no one could hunt me down.

I hunched over in a questionable alley next to a disgusting trash bin and caught my breath. What am I doing? Was I really running away? Was I, Hailey, really running from not only my problems, but a whole camp's? And my friends were there. My head pounded harder the more I thought.

I can't do that. This book was important. It would solve everything. With it returned, my friends and I could go away and back to our normal lives without worry. The fist against my head subsided a bit as I came to this conclusion.

I have to find the Book of History.

With that decided, I stood on my feet and headed down the alley. If I was right, it would take me down the main road that led out of the city. I knew that I had to get out of New York, but where next? The prophecy. I slowed as I remembered it all. That would give me nightmares until the day I die—which probably will be soon (come to my funeral, there'll be cake).

You shall travel to the plains of death,
Where a creature of destruction has taken its first breath.
Three will go to retrieve the book,
Which deadly hands have took.
A cloud of shadow hangs over your head,
And a god vows all to be dead.