Unknown Friendship

Chapter Ten: Dead for Good

Katie Gardner's POV

Katie bolted upright in her bed.
Her breath came in ragged breaths, and her heart was racing around in her chest like it was trying to burst out of her in a magnificent explosion of fireworks—to bad these fireworks were right inside her, making them deadly. Gripping her sheets, she took in a deep—or, really, the deepest she could manage—a refreshing breath of air, then another, and another. In and out, in and out. After her heart stopped its erratic tap dance and her lungs began functioning correctly, Katie peeked over shoulder at her flower alarm clock. The glowing red numbers read 12:01. In the morning.
Oh, joy.
Sighing, she slid her feet down the side of her bed and began padding out of her bedroom. This had been happening for the past week; every night, a nightmare woke her in the dead of night, and every night, she could never remember her dream. She guessed it was about Percy dying since she had watched him die before her a week ago. Dragging her feet along the floor, she felt her way to the staircase. A creak sounded from behind her, and Katie froze, twirling silently on her feet.
There, in front of her, was Percy freaking Jackson himself. He froze, finger paused in front of his new glasses that he was in the process of pushing up. He waved meekly. "Hey, Katie. What—what are you doing up at this hour?"
She huffed and crossed her arms. "Like you should be the one asking." Rolling her eyes, she answered, "I'm parched, so I was getting some water. Now, what are you doing up?"
If possible, Percy got even stiffer than before; the only part of his body that moved was his middle finger and thumb slowly rubbing together. "I'm going out."
Katie stomped her foot. "Thanks for being blunt, Perseus, but I was looking for a more specific answer." She glared at her best friend, willing for the information to come out of his mouth.
He scrunched up his nose. "Kate," he sighed exasperatedly, "I know that you want to know where I'm going, but... you don't need to. This doesn't involve you, at all."
"You're in my house right now, so you're gonna tell me where you're goin'. Right now." Katie pointed threateningly at Percy, though her threat was useless; Percy practically lived at the Gardner residence—he even had his own room!
He shook his head. "No."
"Why not?" she pouted, knowing full well that bargaining was a desperate tactic.
He grimaced, slinging a backpack over his shoulder. "Katie—it's just—"
"You always tell me!" Her eyes went wide.
"But this is diff—"
"Please!"
"Fine!"
"Yay!" Katie cheered, throwing her arms around Percy in a hug. He went rigid for a moment, then shook his head, hugging back with one arm.
"Okay, Gardner"—he lightly shoved her away—"I'm going to find the SSSTNN."
"What?!" she screeched, feeling her face pale. "Why would you try to find the SSSTNN?! Stay away! Are you sane?!"
"Look," Percy started, holding his hands up, "after—after last time I ran into them, I began thinking. I... Uh, this is gonna sound cheesy. I have people who care about whether or not I get arrested. I mean, my mom cares and stuff, but she doesn't know! Not, not like you..." He wrung his fingers together. "I guess what I mean to say, is that I can't do the stuff I used to because it's beginning to affect other people. There. I said it."
Katie stared at him for a while. Then she poked him in the stomach. "You're going soft."
"I am not!" he protested incredulously.
"Yes, you are. But..."
"But what?" he asked, still annoyed at the 'going soft' thing. Katie could sort understanding; he had spent years as an emotionless statue, and someone saying that he was going soft wasn't going to help his reputation.
"But, I still don't get it. Why find the SSSTNN? Why even try to make contact with them?"
"Katie," he said slowly, "you know they want me dead." She nodded, remembering the sound of ricocheting bullets. "Well, if I were dead, they would stop looking for me. They would leave everyone alone."
Her eyes widened in fear. "You're going to commit suicide!"
"No! No, no, no. I'm going to fake my death."
"Fake... your death." Katie let that settle in. "Fake your death. You came up with this just today, didn't you?" Another beat of silence. "How?"
He sucked in a nervous breath of air. "Yes, I did. And, as to how, well, first, I, uh, have to go to them."
The way he said it made Katie grow nervous herself. "Where?"
"Paris, France."
"Well"—she clapped her hands together—"I guess I should go pack my stuff."
Percy grabbed her elbow as she was heading to her room. "I don't want you to go."
She laughed. "Good one, Percy. No, seriously, let me get my stuff."
"I. Don't. Want. You. To. Go. You need to stay home."
"Excuse me?" She stared at her best friend, his sea-green eyes magnified a bit by his dorky glasses.
"You remember last time! Katie, I don't want you to have to face that again." Percy sounded almost pleading to her, but that couldn't be right; Percy never begged.
"It wasn't that bad," she tried.
"You've been having nightmares ever since! You've been scarred for life!" He grew quieter with his tone, glancing furtively at Mr. Gardner's closed bedroom door. "Please, Katie. Please, just stay home, where it's safe. Please."
Katie pursed her lips, slowly ripping her elbow from Percy's grasp; it was hard to ignore his begging because he was begging, but she was going. She always went. There was no way - that was about to change. "No, I'm going. You don't ever really drag me into anything—I usually follow you, actually—so stop blaming yourself." She gave him a soft smile. "Besides, it's every gal's dream to go to Paris."
He sighed, his lips going into a thin line. "Fine, go get your things. The plane leaves at one."
0o0o0o0o0oKatie knew she was living every gal's dream.
Though she was exhausted and knew she'd never want to get on another plane for a long time, walking the streets of Paris was exhilarating. Percy and Katie had gotten off the plane a little less than an hour ago, and then they walked around a bit, making it around five in the evening; they were coming up on the Eiffel Tower. This was the only tourist site that Percy was allowed, probably because it was involved with his mysterious little devil of a plan.
Yanking on his wrist, she made her way through the crowd, awing at the towering structure before her. She was firing question after question at Percy, wanting to gain as much information as she could about the City of Love. "Where are we?"
He yanked her back to him, rolling his eyes. "The Eiffel Tower is located on the Champ de Mars if I'm correct."
"Whoa. It's tall. How tall is it?"
He hesitated. "Nine hundred something feet..." He snapped his fingers. "Nine-hundred-eighty-four feet!"
"Ohhhh.... What do the French call it?" Katie was beginning to think a dozen cookies she had eaten weren't right for her; they definitely sparked her mild ADHD.
"You mean, what is it called in French? Well, I don't speak French, but the Eiffel Tower is called La Tour Eiffel in French. I think."
"When was it built?" She couldn't help it! She was so curious!
"The 1880s. Now, C'mon, we have to go to the top."
"1880 what? And, I don't know if we can. Do you see all these people?" Her words were beginning to run together now.
"1887 through 1889. And, yes, we can. There are nine lifts we can use to go to the top."
"Really, nine? That's so cool and—"
"Katie, do me a favor, will ya?" Percy was rubbing at his right temple, his left hand wrapped around Katie's wrist.
"Yes?" she asked. What was He going to ask? Please let it not be to go ahead and look for any SSSTNN people. Please let it not be to go ahead and look for any SSSTNN people...
"Shut up, before I teach you a wide range of vocabulary words. I really need to concentrate."
"Oh, okay."
With that, she shut her trap and followed him through a small crowd. He pulled her along to the bottom of the Eiffel Tower, where he inspected it, plopping his bulky puke green backpack on the grass. "Katie, could you pull out two little circular thingies from my backpack?" he asked, but it was really an order.
She nodded and went searching for his bag, finding very many... peculiar things, but she ignored it. After a few non-profitable minutes and looking for any passerby, she dumped all of its contents onto the green grass. Right on top were two silver round things with handles; the bottom parts had a blue glow emitting from them. "Here," she called to Percy, standing and bringing forth the two 'circular thingies' that were stuck together.
"Thank you," he mumbled, still staring at the La Tour Eiffel like he was mesmerized by its beauty or something weird like that. Katie didn't know or care at the moment what was going through his large brain; it was not like he was about to spurt what his plan was.
Percy went to one of the legs of the tower. Pulling apart the two 'circular thingies,' he stuck one on the leg. CLANG! Katie winced and automatically ducked; she saw from the corner of her eye Percy do the same. He angrily whispered some things that rhymed with 'split' and 'fire truck.' "Stupid!" he scolded himself quietly. "People could hear!" He was hitting himself on the head now. "Think, Percy. Think!"
"Percy," she whispered urgently, "we gotta go. People are comin'."
He turned to her. "Pack the stuff," he ordered. "I'll get this magnet offa this thing."
Katie rushed down to where she dumped all of Percy's knickknacks, landing on her knees. "C'mon, C'mon, fit!" She jammed the last object, a small, folded lime-green board of sorts, and tried to zip up the backpack.
There were sirens now, rapidly growing louder.
"I don't have time for this!" She clutched the top of it, effectively blocking anything from falling, and sprinted over to Percy, whose feet were pressed up against the leg of the structure as he pulled as hard as he could on the small magnet. Dang! That thing had power! "Stop messing around, Percy!" she shouted over the wailing sirens.
"I'm—not—messing—around," he gritted out.
"Well, then hurry up!"
"I am!" he snapped.
"Why isn't it coming off, then?!"
Clang! The magnet separated from the Eiffel Tower, and he flew back into a back-flip. He landed wobbly on his feet and then again on his butt. Standing with a sort of grace no one should be able to manage after falling on their behind, Percy tugged his backpack from Katie's hand and wedged the two magnets into it. "To the trees," he told her, grabbing for her hand—though she knew he meant her wrist—and dragging her along.
They had only stepped but a few times, when a voice called out, "Vous Deux, là-bas. Stop."
"Stay very, very calm," he told her from between his teeth. He turned, motioning for Katie to do the same, and she watched with interest at the spectrum she was about to witness. "I'm sorry, sir," Percy said, inching closer to the officer. "I don't understand."
"Oh. You speak English?" An officer—from the Paris Police Nationale, she knew—stepped forward. He cocked his head to the side. "You two are children," he stated bluntly, apparently surprised.
"Ah, yes... un policier, we both speak English. We both come from New York." Percy propped up his glasses, his eyes darting at the tourist surrounding the Eiffel Tower.
"And you are both children from America." Jeez, Katie thought. This guy just won't let it go that we're kids.
"Yes." She could tell the man was beginning to irritate Percy now. "You said that before."
"And, since you are children, where are your parents?"
"We sort of got distracted, so we don't know where our guardians are..." He trailed off quietly like he was searching, but Katie knew he already had his targets ready. "There!" he exclaimed, pointing at a crowd of American tourists. "Right in the middle! We'll be fine, officer. Thanks for all the help!"
She waved to the un policier as she speed walked to the crowd, like her parents were in there, somewhere. "Thanks for the help, sir!" she shouted. Then she plunged with Percy into the midst of all the people.
After about five long, dragging minutes—for ADHD, at least—Percy peaked behind the crowd for the Police Nationale worker. "Gone," he told her; then he grabbed her wrist, like usual, and lead her to the row of trees beside the Eiffel Tower. Once hidden by the green and dark, he began saying his plans aloud for her: "We'll return later when it's dark. The SSSTNN will be there, waiting for me."
Katie bit her lip, trying to keep in the always unanswered question. "Oh, and Katie," Percy said, a small smirk on his lips, "I'll tell you how. You are an important part of my plan."
She could not help the small spark of joy that jolted through her. Maybe—maybe—he'll change.
Maybe he already is.
Maybe things will be different.
But those are only maybe's.
And, often, she told herself, maybe's are no's.
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie sat on the hotel's fluffy bed.
She didn't know how Percy had scored the nice suite they were in. Honestly, she didn't know how he did a lot of things, like manage to get first class seats on the airplane they had flown in—but she guessed it had something to do with his uncanny ability to know what people want and then convince them that he can get it. And hacking. And that weird raise-the-left-eye-brow thing. Yeah, those probably helped, too.
Ignoring the urge to bombard her best friend with question after question, she pulled her knees up to her chest and thought.
The plan was genius, in its own way, like usual; but, of course, it had its faults.
Truth be told, it was sort of hard for her to see the faking death part. The plan was suicidal. At the same time though, she could see how it could work.
That is if it did not depend on the small contraptions that a child—even if that child was Percy Jackson—created. And not to mention that they had to deceive a group of highly trained, deadly geniuses!
Katie had to admit that she doubted Percy. No way was any of it possible - No way.
But, this was Perseus Jackson, and, however hard it was to admit, Perseus Jackson always kept things to himself; he never told everything. Ever.
There were secrets not to be revealed until the last second.
But secrets aren't secrets unless asked about. If nothing is asked, those hidden things are obviously not important enough to be secrets.
At least, that is what Percy would say, and Katie agreed.
It was easier to say her best friend kept personal things to himself—not secrets.
So, that's why, when she went up to his side of the room, about to ask what he wasn't telling her, she didn't say anything at all. Instead, she simply grabbed one of his pieces of technology, a tiny gaming device, and skipped right on back to her bed. Plopping atop it, she had turned on the game and began playing furiously, not even glancing at the boy across the room.
It also might have been Percy's doing. With that left eyebrow of his raised, a look of seriousness and knowing plastered on his face, Katie was positive a part of her brain, in the very back, had told her to turn back without her consent.
I guess Perseus Jackson will always be a mystery.
A mystery with no secrets.
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie craned her neck to a point to where it was painful.
She couldn't help it though; Katie just had to see if she could spot the top of the Eiffel Tower from where she was. Luckily, the plan wasn't about to unfold for another hour (because this was just a test), at eight o'clock, and she could admire one of the greatest architectural works ever built. Admiring also meant learning, however, and she was pretty sure her curiosity was killing Percy, even if he loved her interest because it made her so-very-animated.
"How tall is it again?"
"Do you want it in feet or meters? Inches, maybe?" He clutched her wrist tighter as they weaved through the hustle and bustle of people.
"Feet. Americans use feet, and I'm from America, so I use feet." She sounded uptight, like a queen, but a queen suited her well, she thought. A princess was even better.
"I told you that already, earlier." He nudged her in the direction of one of the lifts.
"Well, I forgot."
"Well," he mocked, "remember."
She racked her brain for the number. "Three hundred...?"
"That's meters," he corrected lightly.
Katie pursed her lips, bringing them both to a standstill. "Nine hundred something."
"Nine hundred-something is close." Percy tugged at her stiff arm. "Now, C'mon, we have to go. There's only so much time we have to test. We need to perfect it as much as we can, or, you, know, we can both die."
She waved him away. "Dying can wait. I really need to remember this. Hmmm..."
"You really have no idea what you just said, do you?"
"What did I say? Is it nine hundred ninety feet?" She had to remember this. She had to.
"No, it's not nine hundred ninety feet," he huffed, trying—but epically failing because he was not really attempting—to pull her from her spot.
"Nine hundred... nine hundred... nine hundred eight...?"
"Stop trying so hard, and then it'll come to you! Ya know, I think actually being on the Eiffel Tower will help you. Let's go!" He took a step forward, but Katie yanked him right back next to her.
"Is it nine hundred eighty?" she demanded.
"No! It's nine-hundred-eighty-four feet!" he shouted, loud enough to where surrounding people turned to see what all the commotion was about.
Katie stomped her foot childishly. "I could have figured it out!"
"Well, too bad! We're going. Now."
"No."
Percy shook his head at her defiance. "Fine, I'm going." He released his grip on her wrist and dove through a crowd, leaving her behind.
Katie about had a panic attack the second He left her sight. "Percy! Percy!" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She pounded her head as she made for the tower. "He has all the supplies. You don't know where the hotel is. And—oh, I feel stupid and—AH!" She shrieked in the middle of her rant when two hands tickled her ribs.
"I told you we were leaving, but you didn't listen." Percy slung an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward a lift. "This way, Katie."
"I know," she defended herself.
"Know, not knew." They followed a dozen tourists, their cameras flashing, into the lift. "Besides"—he leaned closer to her ear—"you were heading in the wrong directions."
"I hate you."
"Love you, too." He smirked victoriously, lifting his arm from around her.
Katie did not say anything, choosing to take her anger out on the poor operator. She glared at the man like he had kicked her puppy or eaten her grandmother.
The operator, after that day, forever had a fear of young girls with pig-tails and grass green eyes.
At the top of the Eiffel Tower, when everyone had safely exited the lift, Percy had brought Katie to the edge of the structure. Holding his glasses up on his nose, he pointed with his other hand down below to the bright green grass. "They think I'm not all that smart, so of course, when I escape, I'll let them think that I did something stupid." She nodded, thinking back on Mr. Howland; it was obvious that he underestimated them, and he would surely do the same thing again. They were only children. Percy continued, "So, I'll jump. Of course, I know should simply jumping will kill anyone, but they don't know that I've skydived into water and trees before and survived."
"It isn't sky diving if there aren't any parachutes," she mumbled under her breath.
"Anyway," he said, ignoring her comment, "what I really want to do first is drop something from this high up." He reached into his back pocket, revealing a shiny new quarter. "You wanna drop it?"
"What? No. Wait, why?"
He shrugged. "I can't see all the way to the bottom as well as you can. Just make sure there aren't any people, and you should be good."
"Should? I hate the word should."
"So do I. Now drop it."
Katie sneaked a glance past the railing, double checking that there were no people of any sort directly below them, before dropping the quarter. She watched as it plummeted to the ground, flashing from the fading sunlight. Soon, it grew so tiny she could no longer see it. "Kay, I dropped it. What now?"
Percy shrugged again, pursing his lips. "I already checked the magnets, so I have to check your life-saver." He grinned, like what he said was hilarious. She thought it was awful that she had to test something so crucial because it meant that anything and everything could go wrong.
"Do I have to jump?" she asked, gulping.
"No, I'm dropping the model."
She let out a breath of relieved air. "Good. That's good, right?"
"Do you want to jump?"
"No, no, it's good." She held up her hands and took a large step back. "Go ahead. Do your testing. I'll just"—she pointed over her shoulder—"be over here, ya know, looking over the city and stuff."
Percy shook his head. "Make sure no one comes near."
"Okay, I'll be on the lookout. As long as there's no jumping. Yep, yep, yep!" She turned around and jostled into some a couple. "Sorry!" She shuffled away from them and heard her best friend talk to himself/shadow friends.
Percy chuckled. "Can jump out of a plane but not off the Eiffel Tower. Makes sense," he muttered sarcastically. "I don't know what to make of that, Ryan. I just really don't get it."
Ignore the shadow friends. She thought she ought to make that her new motto.
IGNORE THE SHADOW FRIENDS. YOU WILL WEIRD THEM OUT.
That should do it.
She shuffled away to keep watch for something only Percy knew about. Like he could be surprised, she thought. Like he could be surprised, with those invisible shadow friends of his.
When Katie and Percy were back on the ground, away from the crowds, they went over to the spot below the railing where she dropped the quarter. In the grass, there was a quarter-sized hole that sliced through the dirt. She dug her fingers around it and caught sight of the coin, covered in grime. "Well, Percy," she said slowly, "at least now you know that falling from here is deadly."
She looked up at him. Biting his lip, he shrugged. "I already knew that. All I wanted was to have a little insight on how the real thing might go."
"Here's your insight, buddy, and it looks nasty."
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie was back sitting on her fluffy hotel bed.
It was 7:42, eighteen minutes until the plan started to unfold, and the duo was finishing their last morsels of room service. Katie licked some chocolate off her fingers. "This is so good," she moaned, emphasizing the good part.
Percy nodded, taking another chunk out of his apple. "Good works, but I was thinking something more along the lines of..."
"...delicious," she finished for him.
"Delicious. Yeah, this is definitely delicious." Crunch. Percy gave his apple an odd look, as if it was not supposed to disappear like that, and then tossed it on his plate. "Delicious as it is, we still have to go."
"No!" she complained. "Just one more cookie."
"No more cookies." He sighed exasperatedly. "Sometimes, I wonder who's more mature."
"I am totally mature!"
"Really? Because you sure aren't acting mature." He stared at her innocently, with his left eyebrow raised, like he hadn't used some sort of psychology on her. Reverse psychology, she thought. He must have used reverse psychology or something of that sort. (What? She was only ten.)
She glared at him. "Fine, I'm goin'."
They left the hotel room, checking out, with Percy's ugly puke-green backpack slung over his left shoulder. He led the way, as usual, to the La Tour Eiffel. "We have to rush," he was saying as he ducked underneath a man's outstretched arm. Katie's face ended up in the crook of the man's elbow.
"Sorry," she mumbled into his elbow, the sound muffled; her face was burning.
The man's—a young man, maybe early twenties—face was also beet-red, but his wasn't in embarrassment. "Que faites-vous, vous gamin stupide!"
"Uhhh... Bonjour... ?" She waved timidly, glancing at the young French girl—who, she thought, was way too skinny to be considered healthy-leaning against the red brick wall, her face flushed as well.
Oh, crap.
Katie dashed away as quickly as she could, arms outstretched to grasp Percy's shirt. "Why you-you little—" she ground out under her breath. "Why didn't you help me?"
He was chuckling under his breath, biting his lip, though highly ineffective. "I know, we have to go, but that was pretty funny, you have to admit."
"No, it wasn't," she snapped. "C'mon. We have to go." She pulled on his arm, and he yelped.
"You almost yanked my arm outta socket!" He grasped her wrist to rip off her iron grip.
"Almost doesn't count." She yanked again, harder, this time.
"But it hurts," he whined.
Katie shook her head. What was he doing? Break a bone, don't even drone. Pull on an arm, scream like an alarm. Yeah, that makes sense. "It's not like you'll feel much pain later, Percy," she scolded as they turned the last curve to the Eiffel Tower. "You'll probably never pull your arm outta socket."
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Don't you know the saying?
Knock on wood three times, or you will jinx it.
Well...
Knock.
Knock....
You've now been jinxed.
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie stared at the Eiffel Tower, again.
How many times had she looked at it this past day? Three times? More? Truthfully, she wanted to see the other tourist spots; all day it was only the Eiffel Tower. La Tour Eiffel this, La Tour Eiffel that. She was tired of it; besides, there was a high probability of her dying tonight at the very building. Oh, and Percy. Percy could die, too.
Why was it always them who could die? Why not two other ten-year-olds?
Oh, yeah, because of Percy, she thought sourly.
Sighing, Katie—now following Percy—stepped into the lift. It was empty, minus the sleeping elevator operator. That she couldn't understand. Was Paris not the City of Lights? Who would not want to see the City of Lights in action? The doors slid open, and the duo silently slipped out onto the remote tower.
It was virtually empty, but she knew it wasn't. Not for long, at least.
Percy handed Katie a pair of binoculars and stuck an earpiece in her ear. "Okay," he instructed, "listen through this"—he tapped the tiny, almost invisible earpiece—"so you can get the gist of what's goin' on. The binoculars, use those to see everything. You'll use 'em to watch for the signal. Now, this"—he dug through his ugly backpack, pulling out the lime-green board—"you'll use to slowly go down the tower. It has powerful magnets that will allow you to hover vertically next to the metal. Go too far, and you might get to meet that quarter you dropped earlier." He paused after his warning, gaining full eye contact from Katie. "And, the most important parts for the plan, this"—he handed her a grass green blow-up mattress—"this"—placed in her arms a deflated, tan human-like decoy—"and this"—next came a large bag of thick, sloshy red liquid.
"You have everything else, right? The rope, trigger—?" She nodded cutting him off, however, burdened with the weight of the three precious items she was. He rolled his shoulders, and she could see the anxiety rolling off him in waves. "The back-up parachute, just in case?" he asked, trying to say it off-handedly, so she wouldn't get worried as well.
Katie smiled. "Yeah, I got 'em all, Softie. Just let me go before they get here." She heard her voice harden, and she was quite surprised. Then she couldn't help the satisfaction she felt from imagining their shocked faces when their—okay, okay, Percy's—plan succeeded. But, she remembered, they would be happy, because her best friend would finally be dead.
Dead for good.
Yay. Katie monotonously thought sarcastically as possible.
She gingerly stepped over to the edge, where a small fence was to keep people from doing stupid things—like, say, for example, jumping over so you can fall to your doom. "I'll be fine, right?" she asked suspiciously as she swung her left leg over. "I mean, these things you made—they're safe?"
Percy chuckled as he stepped over to her, helping Katie over. "What? You think I made these by myself?"
"Well, yeah..." She trailed off as she saw his face of bewilderment and amusement.
"No. No, no, no, no." He waved his hands above his head. "Katie, these inventions, they're safe. Trust me."
"But you made them all by yourself, and you're a kid—"
"Number one: I can't believe that you're questioning my brain." He pointed to his temple, gloating about his big, fat brain. "Number two: I had help, Butterfly." He raised his left eyebrow, and a nagging feeling began squirming in the back of her mind.
"And by help, you mean...?"
He shrugged and crossed his arms across his chest. "Guess." Lifting his wrist, he looked at it like he had a watch on. "And do it soon, because they'll be comin' up within the next minute or so."
"Kids," Katie guessed. "You're help—they were kids. Other kids."
"Correction: genius kids." He said it in a posh tone with his pointer finger held toward the sky. Then he stared at her with slanted eyes. "Get a move on. I can hear the lift comin' up. Now."
"I'll see you later then." Even she knew she was procrastinating by now, but she really did not want to leave—not yet. Not ever.
He patted her back. "No, don't say it like a good-bye. You'll be fine. We'll be fine," he added. There was the sound of the ropes pulling up the lift and a small ding. He made a shooing motion with his hand. "Are ya gonna go yet?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going." There was silence between them—awkward with the seemingly obvious doom impending upon them.
But Percy's plans worked. Some way or another, they always work.
Always.
Right?
Katie pondered the probability of this plan succeeding on the way down the side of the Eiffel Tower—because she could, with Percy constantly pounding her with math and all that other junk when he got in the geeky mood—on the small lime-green board. She lay on her stomach, the three unique items tied to the bottom of the board; her arms snaked around the base and twisted together. Slowly, slowly, slowly, she inched her way—head facing the ground, feet meeting the sky—to the spot where she had to hang the decoy.
Sliding down one leg of the structure, then going underneath, she began to hang upside-down. She wrapped her legs around the board as best she could behind the three essential items tied down underneath the lime-green board as well. Below, she released her grip with her hands and began tying a rope around the neck of the decoy. Once the decoy was hung up on the Eiffel Tower, hidden from those above, she opened a little hole and began dumping in the blood-red sloshy liquid.
The decoy hung in front of Katie, swinging back and forth, back and forth. She stared at it, taking in the little details like the silver chain and gray beanie and rectangular, geeky glasses.
Static filled her ear for a moment, and then it cleared.
Voices:
"So, boy—if I may ask—what are you doing here?" Ariston Howland, first class maniac.
"You may not ask, but it's not like I have any say in the matter since you already did ask." Percy Jackson, sarcasm king.
Katie wrapped one arm around the board and began using the other to push her way to the leg of the La Tour Eiffel again. Once there, she started heading down to the ground. The whole time, she listened in on the conversation going on above her.
"Just tell me why you are here in the first place!" Ariston growled.
"Why don't you make me?" mocked Percy.
"Fine."
There was a sound like shoes clicking on the floor, and then Percy spoke up: "Ah, ah, ah, Ariston. I wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, if I fall, then you won't ever get to know why I'm here. Do you really want to do that?"
A snap echoed through Katie's ear. "Circle him. I don't need to lose again," Howland barked. "Do not blink! Do you not understand?! If you blink, he escapes! Stop blinking!"
"Hey, Ariston, don't worry. I'm not trying to escape. Or even rub it in your face that I can, for that matter." Katie could feel the smirk that was stretched across Percy's face.
"How many times do I have to tell you, my name to you is Mr. Howland! Mr. Howland!"
"Are you getting annoyed, Howland? I thought that you had to keep cool for the show."
Katie bit her bottom lip as she came close enough to the ground to jump. Slipping her other arm around the board—futuristic hovering board, she liked to think—she dangled her feet a foot above the soft grass. Falling, she brought the lime-green-futuristic-hovering board with her and raced to the spot below Percy, who was standing on the ledge, balancing precariously.
"Keep calm!" Ariston screamed, making her earpiece squeal. "No! All I have to do is make sure you are dead!"
She untied the grass-green blow-up mattress from the board and dragged it over to the spot. After unfolding it, she unplugged the mattress. "Perfect," she whispered. "Self-inflating."
"Dead?" Percy asked calmly.
Lifting her binoculars, she turned to watch the spectacle happening nine-hundred-eighty-four feet above her. Percy was walking along the ledge now, going back and forth. Ariston Howland was standing like a pole was glued to his back; he was shaking furiously.
"Dead for good," Howland threatened, pointing his finger at Percy.
Katie gulped and brought down the binoculars to check on the mattress. Even though she couldn't see the maniac clearly, she knew he really wanted to kill Percy himself—just to finally be rid of her best friend. If that meant shooting Percy through the head, Howland would probably do it.
Kill an innocent child.
Well, maybe not so innocent. But still!
Katie faced the inflating mattress, and her breath hitched. Inspecting the mattress, was a person—a tourist most likely! "Who are you?" she squeaked.
The person jerked back, his blond hair gleaming in the moonlight. "Katie?" he asked.
"Sol!" Relief flowed throughout her body. Sol wouldn't rat her out, right?
"Katie, what are you doing here?" he asked quietly, stepping around the last important part of the plan.
"What are you doing here? I always go with Percy. You're just a kid." Katie pointed behind her back at hopefully the top of the Eiffel Tower.
"I am eleven, for your information. And I've been going on these missions since I was eight. That's when I met Percy."
"Wait, you work for them?" she asked angrily. Maybe, the man would rat them out.
"It's not like I have a choice," Sol protested. "My dad works for them, and now I have to also!"
Katie hesitated. "Who's—who's your dad?" No, she thought. It couldn't be him. But, the blond hair, the gray eyes...
He paused like he didn't want to answer. "Ariston Howland."
A silence stretched between them—long and heavy like a boa constrictor was wrapped around both of their throats so they could not speak.
Katie ripped that boa constrictor in half. "WHAT?!" she screeched. "You mean to tell me that Percy became buddy-buddy with the SSSTNN's leader's son?!"
"Yeah... That pretty much sums it up." Sol took a step back due to her outburst.
"And what does your father think about this? Huh?"
"Are you kidding me? I couldn't tell my dad! He'd use me to find him and then kill both of us!"
She took a deep breath, and that was when she realized something. Something super important. "Move over!" she ordered, shoving Sol over to the side; she got down on her knees and closed up into the mattress. Clumsily grabbing for her binoculars, she yelled at Sol, "Pinch me! Or punch me!"
"Why?"
"I need to cry, and once you get me started, I can really do good on my act." She managed to bring the binoculars to her eyes and spotted Percy frantically doing the signal behind his back: a simple, easy, shake of is left hand with two fingers held out like a peace sign.
"But you're a girl," Sol complained.
"Just do something!"
A blow to her shin doubled her over in pain. Water began streaming down her face. "Go," she muttered into her earpiece.
She heard Percy say his "last words": "And besides, Ariston, I won't be around anymore."
Then Percy held his arms out wide—
—And fell.
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie screamed like a maniac.
The scream came out long and loud and high pitched as if she were really and truly terrified. Which she was. Don't get her wrong; she was one of the most pessimistic people on Earth as she watched Percy plummet lower and lower, closer and closer to the hard earth.
Her breaths came short and shallow, and for a moment, an image of a splattered best friend entered her mind. Shaking the horrible thought from her mind, she watched intensely as Percy whipped out his two super-powerful circular magnets out from large pockets on his cargo pants—which he really didn't approve of, preferring his faded blue jeans—and stuck them near the La Tour Eiffel.
Clang! He was hanging; the decoy came tumbling down. It fell, looking creepily like the original Percy, who was, thankfully, safe.
Katie kicked away the rest of the supplies by her feet—which Percy would kill her for doing—and shoved Sol away. "Move it. You don't want people thinking we were talking, do you?"
"No..."
"Then move it!"
Sol Howland scurried off, leaving Katie alone. But not for long.
The decoy landed on the grass-green mattress a mere second later.
It crashed on the mattress, which deflated with a farting noise. The decoy was wrapped in the folds of green, and sticky red liquid was splattered all over.
The decoy is Percy, Katie told herself. Percy is bloody and dead.
However much she knew that Percy wasn't actually dead, the decoy made it look so convincing—with the same exact outfit, messy jet black hair, and glasses. She let the waterworks flow, shaking and bundling up the mattress around the fake body, where artificial bones were jutting out; the decoy had the gruesome, realistic effect of any real dead person who was dropped from the top of the Eiffel tower. Well, she thought it did, and hoped, too.
Katie sat there next to the "dead" body, on her knees. Tears continued to come, falling into a puddle in the grass, making a small, muddy spot that seeped into her jean shorts. It seemed like forever until the SSSTNN people came down the lift to see what all the commotion was about.
Howland, holding a big, fancy gun that Percy would know the name to, stepped forward from the middle of his ranks. "Girl, what are you crying about?" he asked, voice hard and emotionless.
Through sobs and wails, Katie manages to choke out, "He's—he's dead! The—the p-plan was supposed to work!" A wail escaped her. "But it didn't!" She stuffed her face into her hands as her body shook.
Rubbing her face, she watched as Howland shifted uncomfortably. "A plan? You two had a plan?" She shook her head as she pulled the bundle of the "dead" body closer to her. "And now the boy is dead?" he asked, eyeing the Percy hidden beneath the blow-up mattress.
"Y-yes!" she sobbed, folding over from the tears; she pinched herself and thought of run-over puppies to keep the tears running.
Murmurs traveled the whole of the SSSTNN. "The troubled child is gone? Dead?" Katie heard one woman—the woman she shot in the shoulder—mutter. Ignoring the troubled child part, she carried on with her grieving.
"So the body—it is there?" Howland pointed, and Katie nodded sadly, still sobbing her poor little heart out. "Maybe we should take the body from you—"
"No!" she screeched. "You can't take 'im! You can't!"
Howland stumbled back, holding his arms out in surrender. "Okay, child, we will not take this dead body from you, but you should really quiet down."
"No, I won't! If you don't want me to alert every person within a mile radius, just leave! Leave! Now!" She was on her feet now, stomping her foot, her arms pressed against her body, hands curled into fists.
Nobody moved.
"I SAID LEAVE!" she screamed at the top of her lungs; Katie fell down to her knees and began sobbing—loudly.
"Shut up!" whispered Howland urgently. When Katie continued to screech as loud as a jet engine, Howland turned to his men and waved them off. He started backing away, and then he turned and hopped into a cool black car that suddenly came out of nowhere; Sol was in the back seat.
Now Katie wanted a cool spy car, along with a cool pocket-filled jacket.
As the car vroomed away, her sobs slowly quieted until the sound all but disappeared. When she was sure the coast was clear, Katie sped to the Eiffel Tower. "Clear!" she shouted to the top. "C'mon down!"
A rope tumbled down, and Percy zipped his way down a few moments later, holding one of his arms. Katie rushed to his side, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Grunting, he turned to her. "I hate you right now," he said, plopping down with a wince.
"Why?" she asked worriedly. "What happened?"
"You said"—he huffed, and sweat beaded down his forehead—"that I would never yank my arm outta socket, but—would ya look at that—my arm is in immense pain!" He groaned dramatically and flopped over, still gripping his arm.
"Your arm is... out of socket...?"
"Yes! The reason for my pain!" Percy griped.
"I realize that!" Katie snapped. "What do we do?"
"'We?' No—you. You have to pop it back in place," He told Katie.
"Won't that hurt?"
"No. So, do me a favor, and fix my arm!"
"Okay, okay. Just, tell me what to do."
Percy glared at her, and carefully emphasized every single syllable: "I already told you: Pop my arm back. That's all!"
She got down on her knees and gripped his arm. "More specifics, please."
"Simply jerk up and in. Or something like that! I really don't know right now!" Percy grimaced as Katie pulled on his arm accidentally.
"Sorry!" she yelped. "Okay, just—breathe."
"Already am!"
"I was talking to myself!" While she was snapping at Percy and his critical attitude, she actually popped his arm back in place. He didn't say anything, because he knew she would freak, and his arm was still sore; Percy did have to wait a long time before it was fixed—much too long, in Katie's opinion.
Eventually, though, Percy brought Katie out of her rant, and together they gathered all evidence and hid it away—hopefully, to never be found again.
The whole time, she wondered what it felt like to be dead.
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie enjoyed first class—a lot.
Probably more than she should, but—oh well. She leaned back in her chair, and at the corner of her vision, she saw Percy sleeping peacefully. She thought that was suitable, considering the fact he no longer had to worry about a crazed secret organization out to kill him. Well, he did not have to worry about one crazy group out to kill him; there might be more.
Sighing, she thought about her day, and how crazy it was. It would have to stop soon, though, she thought, since School was around the corner. But this summer had to be one of her craziest yet. Men wearing black suits knocking down her door, then Russians, next - the SSSTNN, and now this—flying first class from Paris, France, the City of Love.
Secretly, Katie could hardly wait until her birthday. She had a gut feeling that something adventurous was bound to happen.
Speaking of birthdays...
"Oh my gosh!" she gasped. "Percy!" She lunged over to his seat and shook him awake.
"Wha?" he mumbled sleepily.
"It's your birthday!"
"Yeah, what about it?" He stretched, rubbing his eyes.
"We won't even be back in New York 'til ten P.M.! That's what! You missed your whole birthday! Not to mention out parents must be worried sick!"
"Butterfly, calm down. I can talk to our parents and convince them to celebrate tomorrow." He was so calm and relaxed—she wanted to wring his neck.
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Now, what are we gonna tell them?! Wanna say, 'Oh, we went to Paris.'? No! What are we gonna do?!"
Percy cupped his ears. "First: ow. You're screaming in my ears. Second: again, calm down. I sent an email that says we were needed for questioning. All our parents know is that we were helping catch a mastermind criminal."
"Oh." Katie leaned back in her cushiony blue seat and relaxed. "Okay."
Percy smirked. "Forgetting I'm a genius now, are you?"
"Downgrade your ego, air-head."
0o0o0o0o0o
Katie had another weird dream.
After the whole situation was sorted out, she had immediately conked out in her bed. But, of course, given her luck, she had to have some sort of weird dream that brought her to see some of her nightmares—the SSSTNN.
They were celebrating. Loud music blared through huge speakers four feet tall. Punch and goodies like chips and cookies were lined along two tables aligned on the sides of the dance floor. On the actual dance floor, men and women alike were dancing like crazy, holding their plastic glasses up and cheering, "Huzzah! The troubled one is finally dead!" They were thanking the gods or Fates or something crazy like that for their good fortune, which made Katie's head spin.
The whole scene made Katie's stomach lurch. When she thought that they would celebrate, she didn't think they would; it was only her way of picturing the pure evil that took the place of their hearts. But here was the entirety of the SSSTNN, where everyone was celebrating.
Everyone except for two.
Sol Howland was sitting in a corner by himself, holding his plastic punch cup, mourning over the loss of his friend. Guilt ate away at Katie's heart: Poor Sol—he didn't know it was all fake, that the fallen Percy was a fraud. He thought his friend—probably only friend—was dead.
The other person was Sol's father, Ariston Howland; Katie thought for sure he would be the happiest of them all, so this surprised her. Howland was leaning against a wall, deep in thought. He was muttering to himself: "It just does not make sense. It cannot be that easy. Why would he simply give up?" He gazed at the sky like he expected some god to answer his question. "Whatever went happened made him the way he is—the way he was? What mislead him into the life of a troubled child?"
Her dream blurred, and Katie was slowly being sucked away. She didn't even try to tease and prod at the people dancing their empty souls away—she was too scared of them to try.
She sucked in a deep breath as she woke up, the earliest signs of sunlight streaming through her windows. Blinking her bleary eyes, she stretched and swung her legs over the side of her bed, her body naturally padding to the room next door. She knocked once, then twice, and then she simply walked in.
The room she had stepped into was Percy's—which may be weird to some people, but not to her family; he had lived with them so long it was only reasonable to give him his own room. She hopped on his bed and sleepily yanked his blankets off.
"Percy," she moaned. "Percy, wake up."
He stirred and then waved her away.
"No," he moaned back. "Must... sleep..."
Katie shoved him off the bed. "Ged up."
Thud.
"Ow! What the heck was that for?" Percy asked as he rubbed his sore head.
"For not waking up," she replied briskly.
"Just tell me what's up," he grumbled sourly, yanking his blanket from her grasp.
"I have a question."
"And that question is...?"
She held her breath, but his left eyebrow was raised, and that funny nagging feeling was telling her to speak up. "What if they find out that you're not dead? I mean, all they have to do is type in your name and look into your personal record, like what those Russian guys did." She paused. "What if they come after you again?"
Percy chuckled quietly. "Katie," he laughed, "that's the whole genius part of my plan. They can't do that."
"What do you mean?"
"Tell me, did they once say my name?"
"No."
"That's because not one of them ever figured it out. I was simply the troubled child that got in their way." He grinned his lop-sided grin, squinting to see her in the dim light without his dorky glasses.
"Speaking of being the troubled child, what exactly did you do?" she asked curiously. "You had to have done somethin' horrible to make them wanna kill you."
He pressed his index finger to his lips. "Sh. That's top secret, Butterfly. But don't worry. No one else will ever see those papers again." Her blank face made him add, "Because they're gone, burned to ashes." His grin didn't seem so cheeky anymore.
Katie shrugged off the bad feeling and waved good-bye, heading toward her room for a bit more sleep. Asleep with no more nightmares.
The only thing that bothered her was one question: What did Perseus Jackson do that was so bad, so awful, that the Secret Service so Secret There's No Name felt they needed to exterminate him?