He stepped into the gas station around 11:00 p.m., red-eyed and smelling of alcohol. In one hand he held a brown paper bag, (no need to guess what was in it,) and in the other, he held a machine pistol. And this is why I hate working the night shift. I tense up immediately. I was in the midst of replenishing the chocolate bars. The panic button, recently installed by the cash register, was out of my reach on the opposite side of the kiosk. I look around and quickly count the number of people in the store. Besides me, there were only two people, large men who appeared disinterested in the dangerous scene unfolding. No, they were busy studying a road map while devouring the station's absolutely disgusting hot-dogs. (Seriously, they taste like plastic.) Recognizing the authority of my name tag, (Danny Winchester, assistant manager,) the teen approached me calmly, unblinking.
"I. . . need.. .coffee," he forced the words out, his voice raspier than a country singer with strep. Finally registering the panic in my eyes, he gave me a quizzical look, following my eyes to his gun, then looked back to me.
"Oh. Don't. . . worry about this," he grinned as he waved his gun wildly." Bullets are celestial bronze. They won't harm you. But they'll send those two back to Tartarus."
The kid motioned towards the other men with his bag, which was filled with, surprisingly enough, large, multi-colored jar-breakers. I heard chimes as another person entered the station, a girl holding a long, double-edged sword casually by her side. My heart began to pound so loudly I feared it would escape my chest. My feet were tingly, my hands felt clammy, and it hurt to breathe. My vision blurred and I had the sudden urge to run, even though both teens were armed. I tried to push past the boy and ran for the door, but my knees buckled before I reached it. The last thing I saw before fainting was the girl who had just entered, looking down at me in concern.
Behind my eyelids was a burning red light. I heard voices, murmuring near me.
"What are we gonna do with him?" asked the boy from earlier, his voice less raspy but no less intimidating.
"I don't know, it was your idea to bring him along!" The voice was feminine, and I reasoned this might be the girl I saw as I passed out.
"Well, we couldn't very well leave him with those Laistrygonian giants!"
I rubbed my eyes and sat up on the concrete, letting my kidnappers know I was awake. They stopped talking and stared at me in the dim light of the moon. We were just behind the gas station, and the sounds of cars driving by helped me snap out of my stupor. I hadn't been abducted really, not just yet. If I played it cool, and remembered to breathe, I might just make it out of here alive. I may have had a panic attack, sure, but that didn't mean I can't prevent another. I just had to breathe. In, out. In, out. I kept my head between my knees, not daring to look up.
"Hey there, Danny. Twy to calm down. We awnt gonna' to hurt you. In fact, we a here to thave you." the boy lisped. I looked up, and saw the boy smiling down at me, a bulge in his cheek I suspected was one of the jawbreakers from before.
"Uhh, umm, my mom's going to be worried if I don't go home, Like, right now." I lied, standing up and trying to look as confident as I can, which can be hard when both of them were so much more physically intimidating they I. The boy, even while sucking on a jaw-breaker, struck an imposing figure. Blonde hair, violet eyes with large bags under them, likely from exhaustion. The stink of alcohol was somewhat diluted in the crisp night air, but it definitely lingered on him. His smile looked forced, while his fingers danced back and forth across the pistol's safety mechanism. The girl stood a few feet behind him, eying me warily. Ebony skinned, with shoulder-length, kinky black hair. Tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in all black, she appeared to me like a fierce warrior princess.
"You can't go home anymore," warrior princess addressed me.
"The monsters have traced your scent. They've already ransacked your home. It was only a matter of time before they got here." She paused, waiting for me to call her on her b.s.
"You're insane and should seek professional help." Even while I tried to formulate an appropriate response to get me out of the situation, my mouth betrayed me with its bluntness.
"Ha," the girl girl laughed dryly. "I suppose we sound that way, don't we? Just let me explain who we are for a minute. Please." How polite, I thought. Delusional as she was, she still made an obvious effort to be kind. Why? She must need something from me, I reasoned. I saw no way out of this situation but to listen, pretend to believe, and wait for an opportunity to escape. The girl seemed to take my silence as agreement and began her story.
"My name's Zara, and this is Pollux. We're hunters. We hunt bad guys like the ones you just saw-"
"But they weren't doing anything!" I cut Zara off.
"They were planning on eating you!" I didn't respond. When she got angry, her eyes bugged out and she looked terrifying. Zara took a few deep breaths and continued her story.
"Those were cannibal giants. We were sent to bring you to camp, and it looks like we were just in time. A few hours later, and we'd have been too late!" Zara wailed dramatically.
"Cannibal giants? Camp? I don't follow you at all," I told her honestly. I already began to believe her, almost wanting it to be true. A part of me wanted this, needed to believe that there was more to my life than school and stocking shelves. Looking back, I don't think I would have felt this way if I had known just how much my life would change.
"You're terrible at explaining, Zari," Pollux cut in, taking the jawbreaker out of his mouth so he could speak clearly. "Monsters are real, Danny. Or at least the ones from Greek mythology do. The Greek gods also. You know any Greek mythology?" I nodded slowly, trying to process this ridiculous explanation.
"See, Zara and I, we fight monsters, protect innocents. Or at least we try to." Pollux's face darkened, and he paused.
"But we didn't just wake up one day wanting this life. We were born into it, and so were you. See, you're a demigod. A child of a god and a human. Zara could smell you a good distance off, so you're probably pretty powerful, once we discover who your parent is. Do you live with either of your parents?" I shook my head disbelievingly, but Pollux seemed to take it as a response.
"So where do you live?"
"Well," I told him. "I lived with my dad, but he went missing a couple of months ago. I live alone now."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Pollux said kindly. He lowered his gaze and looked me straight in the eye. "I know how hard it can be to lose someone you're so close to."
"Yeah, I guess," I looked away, feeling flustered.
"Alright, then it's likely your mother was a goddess," Zara said, trying to bring us back to the topic at hand.
"No, my mom was a witch," I admitted, watching their faces intently to see how they would react. I had never told anyone this before. My dad was a hunter, but he never told me about Greek gods. Up until now I had feigned complete ignorance to the supernatural, but their story, aside from the gods, lined up pretty much with my dad's life. Maybe they could help me find him. In any case, they were my only hope. And I told them so. I told them about my dad's job, how he travelled across country, hunting monsters and saving people. Then he met my mom. They were at odds at first because he had never met a good witch before. But they fell in love and when my mom had me, they decided it would be best to settle down. My mom had lived with me until I was nine, then she disappeared from my life completely. Dad was a mess when she left, and I don't think he ever really got over her. He started going on hunting trips again, leaving me home alone for weeks at a time. I think the hunting gave him a sense of purpose. He would have taken me, but we both knew I could never handle that sort of life. I relied on structure, I was easily scared, and I had anxiety and panic attacks. So was my life until Dad went on a hunting trip. And he hadn't been home in a few months. So I was worried about him. And maybe, just maybe, Pollux and Zara, if they really were hunters, could help me find him.
"Really?" said Zara, looking interested. "Maybe you're a daughter of Hecate, goddess of witchcraft."
I never thought any of that mythology was real, but I was not surprised to hear this. Killing things that most people don't even believe in, well, it's a thankless job, but I'd come to terms with it. I handled the occasional bloodsucker or demon that showed up in town, but my dad handled the big, apocalypse-level stuff. I was able to perform small magic, mostly the natural and healing kind, but my mom's magic, the powerful, destructive kind, was lost on me. If that meant she was a goddess of witchcraft, and I her daughter, well, I've dealt with stranger things in my life.
I remembered mom's magic, spectacular light shows, fireworks, with loud zaps and bangs. She'd zap a monster and it would burst into ashes, like a bubble. As a toddler, I found hunts tremendously entertaining. Not anymore.
When I first demonstrated any talent with magic, I was five, and starting kindergarten. Mom dropped me off, and I screamed and cried, kicking and hitting anyone who tried to engage me. The teacher tried to grab my hand, and I electrocuted her. Mom decided to home-school me. I never did magic like that again. I stuck to healing, my stronger magic.
"Okay . . . So now what?" I asked.
"We need to get you out of town. Your scent is so powerful that I wonder why monsters weren't here years ago." Zara responded.
"But what about my school, my job? Finals are in two weeks . . . and what will Dad think when he gets back?" My mind reeled with the horror of changing my schedule, and so close to the end of the school year! Funny, the things that worry you, all the details that don't really matter in the scheme of things, except to you.
"We ca' walk tha' out lata'," said Pollux exasperatedly, sucking on another jaw breaker.
Two hours later, I found myself in the back of Pollux's car, a classy black four-door I couldn't recognize in the dark. We had stopped at my house and they gave me an hour to pack. Strange, how quickly I began to trust them. But they had a good aura, and I pride myself on my ability to read people. They both sat awkwardly on the living room couch as I ran around, grabbing anything I deemed possibly useful. The house was a wreck, like thieves had pulled out every drawer searching for the silverware. My clothes were still hanging in my closet though. My dad's leather jacket still hung by the door, and I took it as a security blanket.
Sitting in the passenger seat, Zara kicked off her combat boots to reveal hooves, putting them up on the dashboard. She caught me with the rear-view mirror oh-so-casually staring and explained, "I'm a satyress. Uncommon, but not impossible. You've probably read about nymphs, but I'm more like the female equivalent of a satyr than any nymph." I nodded, pretending to understand. Zara went on, "I pick up half-bloods all across the east coast. Find 'em, bring 'em to camp, repeat."
"And Pollux?" I said, the rise at the end making it a question.
"I'm son of Dionysus. I don't normally come with Zara on her hunts, but the camp director, Mr. D., thought it would be good for me to get out a bit," he grinned, taking his eyes from the road to flash her a grin.
"And I got stuck with him," Zara explained, turning her head to face me.
"I'm all good since I discovered jaw breakers. They're my new addiction." So that explained his occasional lisp, I thought to myself.
"Where are we headed?" I asked. I had asked before, but I hadn't received a very clear answer.
"Camp Half-Blood, Long Island, New York. It's a training facility for young Greek demigods. It's one of the safest places a demigod can be."
"Why, that's barely an hour away," I commented.
With my head resting against the window pane, I considered what would be the background music to my life right now, in the film adaptation. I often considered my life as if it were a movie. It helped me see my situation clearly and detach myself from my character. Besides that, it was fun. I imagined "Carry on Wayward Son," by Kansas. It was one of my dad's favorites which he sang to me when I was younger. My head bounced against the window pane. I can't understand how they do that in the movies. It's just not comfortable.
The drive to Camp Half-Blood passed without incident. I half-expected monsters to attack us over the bridge, but I've always been scared of bridges anyway.
When we finally reached the camp, I didn't get a chance to look around and ask any questions. Many people were still up, running around in the dark, but I was too tired to notice any details. Pollux took one of my bags and I took the other. Zara guided me to an overcrowded cabin that she called the Hermes cabin. It was right about then that I realized I would need to brush up on my Greek mythology.
Who was Hermes? I wondered. The name vaguely reminded me of sneakers, but nothing else came to mind. Something to be dealt with a different day, I decided.
There weren't exactly spare beds, but Zara persuaded a boy to get out of his bed and let me get in. I wasn't really comfortable taking his bed, or his used sheets, but it didn't seem like the best time to say anything, so I just let her take control. She reassured me that my rooming was temporary, just until my mom claimed me.
Without changing into my pajamas or even brushing my teeth, I went to sleep. Some people would be too excited to fall asleep in such a new environment, Not me. I was exhausted and I had a lot of information to process.