Deadly Waters | Percy Jackson

21. Percy Settles His Tab

It's funny how humans can wrap their mind around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told Percy that long ago. As usual, he didn't appreciate his wisdom until much later.

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted Percy and two other adolescents in New York and brought them across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror. A third adolescent was suspected, but no one could find any solid evidence.

Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus – "Why didn't I remember him before?". The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police. Finally, brave Percy Jackson – he was beginning to like this kid – had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacular explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled. No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his two friends were safely in police custody.

The reporters fed them the whole story. The trio just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted – which wasn't hard – and played victimized kids for the cameras.

"All I want," Percy said, choking back his tears, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew . . . somehow . . . we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his store. Here's the phone number." The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for three tickets on the next plane to New York.

Pez would've been so proud.

Percy knew there was no choice but to fly. He hoped Zeus would cut me some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force himself on board the flight.

Take-off was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. The entire time he relayed his and Pez side of the story, he didn't unclench his hands from the armrests.

Blissfully, the other two were mostly silent as he explained Pez's distrust of the camp, her spying, when and how they figure out who her father was, their shared dreams, the prophecy . . . everything.

But even with the explanation, Annabeth and Grover still looked wary.

"You have to understand, Percy," Annabeth told him gently. "For centuries, children of Hades have always been . . more volatile than other demigods, and not in a good way. Practically everyone is taught that they're to be seen as distrustful, dangerous, and in a lot of cases, extremely psychotic."

Percy was worn down to his very bones. "Pez isn't like that," he stressed desperately, "yeah, she's not exactly friendly, yeah, she can be a cold-hearted bitch, but she's not bad."

"It's not her," Grover reassured him. "It's just . . . children of Hades . ."

He shuddered, lost in memories.

"Look, we won't tell anyone," the Daughter of Athena said firmly. "Parentage aside, she saved us multiple times down there. I may not like her, but even I can't deny that."