Deadly Waters | Percy Jackson

13. Jackson Dives off a Building

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

They weren't attacked once, but Pez didn't relax. She felt that we were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.

Jackson 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 he got off the Greyhound bus. He had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick.

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.

"Don't worry," Blondie told him. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure to Pez.

The rest of the day Jackson spent alternately pacing the length of the train – because he had a really hard time sitting still – or looking out the windows.

Pez however, decided nothing could be done, and decided to watch the scenery pass by. Once, she spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second grader on a pony, caught her eye and waved. She didn't bother looking around the passenger car to see if anybody else had noticed. The adult riders all had their faces buried in laptop computers or magazines.

Another time, toward evening, she saw something huge moving through the woods. She could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions didn't live wild in America, and that thing was the size of a Hummer. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and was gone.

She and Jackson exchanged a look – that was their world now.

Their reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. They couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so they dozed in our seats. Percy got a stiff neck. He tried not to drool in his sleep, since Pez was sitting right next to him, and he'd rather not be killed before his was even halfway to his destination.

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking him up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. He and Annabeth had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," Annabeth asked him, once they'd gotten Grover's sneaker readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

Pez shifted next to him, turning over and resting her head on his shoulder. He knew she wasn't sleeping, because she usually did this little thing where she mumbled all sorts of nonsense – one time, she had sat up at 2am, threw her arms around him, and whispered, "I lived to tell the tale!" before falling asleep on his face. It had taken all his will=power not to tease her about it.

Brought back to the present, Percy was reluctant to say anything. It was the second time he'd dreamed about the evil voice from the pit – Pez had been there again as well. But it bothered him so much he finally told her.