1. Big Luke
I had spent the last two weeks of the school year traveling around the country. I was driving my gloss black 1968 Dodge Charger R/T named KATE. KATE is an artificial intelligence program that my friend Brandon and I had created last school year, so, KATE can talk and drive herself amongst other tasks.
I live at a place outside of New York City called Camp Half-Blood. It's a place where demigods go to stay safe and train to fight monsters. That's right monsters. You've heard of the ancient Greek gods? Yeah, their real and so are all the monsters. They moved to the states with the main focus of Western Civilization. I am a son of Hephaestus, god of the forge.
Brandon Collins was a track athlete from Portland, Oregon. The eighteen year-old (almost nineteen) stood about five-ten and was built on the lean side. He had jet-black hair and brown eyes. He was a son of Athena, goddess of wisdom and strategy. I wasn't sure yet if I was picking him up for camp or if he was flying in himself. The same went for my other good friend, David Yang.
David was only about five-six and not super buff. He had brown hair and also had brown eyes. He was almost eighteen. The guy had great eyesight, he can pick anything out that was hidden anywhere at great distances. He was also a great shot, the best at camp. He could hit the same spot each time on a piece of paper. I'd seen him do it. It didn't hurt that he was a son of Apollo.
At that moment, I was traveling North on I15 towards Butte, Montana. Through the stereo was a CD that another friend of mine, Brittany Hughes, had left in the center console. It was a Nickelback CD which was Modern Rock or Metal or something. Normally, I'm into Country or Southern Rock but listening to each track reminded me of Brittany.
Two years ago, Brandon, David and I saved her and her brother, Mathew's lives from a bunch of monsters that were chasing them. Afterward, Brittany developed a thing for me. I told her several times that I was just not interested in dating in general. Partly because of my job as a Strike Team leader for the camp, mostly because I lost my mom when I was seventeen. She moved on with her life at the end of last summer. We were still friends and I was still a father-figure of sorts to her younger brother.
One night back home, my mom and my step-dad, John, were fighting and John hit my mom. When I came at him, he put me on my back without breaking pace. I had stormed out of the house and my step-dad shot my mom in cold blood. Later that night, I came home to my step-dad's house covered in crime scene tape. My step-brother had gotten to the cops first with a fake alibi to keep John out of handcuffs. They later fell off the face of the Earth and I became a Marine. It was my fault that she died. If I hadn't left to join the Marine Corps, I might have been able to save her. I probably would have died with my mom but now I believe that I had the abilities to fight my step-brother and step-dad. I've made it my mission to kill them both for what they did.
Two weeks ago, I had asked Chiron, the camp's activities director, for a leave of absence. Normally, you're supposed to stay at camp unless you get a quest but since I am twenty-three, a Marine and a Strike Team leader, I can pretty much take care of myself. Things at camp had slowed down a bit so I wasn't missing much.
I guess I should say a former Strike Team leader. Brandon got hit in the shoulder last summer when we were trying to exfill from an abandoned trailer park/underground hospital. He survived the injury but I couldn't see myself telling his father that he was killed on my watch if he had died that day. It was the same thing with David. I never had to inform someone before that their kid was killed, not even when I was deployed. So, I told Chiron that I was done leading the Strike Team which meant that the team's actions were terminated.
So, I've been on the road ever since I asked for a vacation. I headed down South to my home town in Louisiana and visited my grandparents and Ray Ray, who is a family friend. Ray Ray taught me how to shoot and hunt when I was younger. He also had a moonshine still that I helped him with. Once I got my learner's permit, he had me run the shine from place to place.
After three nights at my grandparents' house, I headed west to Utah to the Bonneville Salt Flats and raced KATE against some of the fastest automobiles in the world. Nobody saw me because I had installed a active camouflage system on the skin of KATE's steel body. Nobody saw me or KATE but we pretty much smoked them all.
After leaving the salt flats, I spent some time driving around the Rocky Mountains. I really tried to avoid the Pacific Coast and the Mid-West because that's where Brandon and David lived during the school year. It's not that I didn't want to talk to them it's just that it was awkward when I broke my idea of terminating the Strike Team and that carried over to the friendship.
At the time, Brandon was hopped up on pain killers and ambrosia and nectar (gods food that demigods use for healing). David, who joined the team in the first place for an adventure, was greatly upset. Our friendship hasn't been quite the same since.
I weaved in and around the Rockies and eventually made my way to I15 North towards Montana. I was heading there because that's where Brittany and Mathew lived. They decided that it was time to move back home with their dad at the end of last summer.
I eventually came to where I15 North and I90 junction. I turned right to go East on I90 as I made my way to Livingston where Brittany was living. Mathew was staying with his dad in Billings. If she was seeing someone and living with them or living on her own, I didn't know. I just knew that I was going to meet her at the address she gave me and I would pick her up. After that the plan was to pick up her brother and head back to camp. I'd probably call Brandon and David to see what their plans were to get back to camp somewhere along the line.
I rolled into Livingston at around 1830 hours. I asked KATE to trace the route to Brittany's house and I followed the light blue line that appeared across the windshield. When I finally found the place, I pulled in the driveway next to a late model Camaro. It was orange with black racing stripes and black honeycomb wheels. When I stepped out of my own ride, I heard the pinging of the oil as the car cooled off. It had recently been parked which was understandable considering it was after six. I checked the shifter out of curiosity, it was a automatic shifter with a chrome T-handle and a black leather boot. I would have preferred a manual transmission but you can't have everything.
The house was a single story house with a two car garage on the right and two large windows on the left. The outside of the house was painted this light tan color and the front door was painted blue. It would have been a decent place to live with the scenery around Livingston.
Just after I looked at the house something crashed through one of the bedroom windows. Through the now open window, I heard Brittany screaming at the top of her lungs.
"Stop! Stop!" she screamed.
KATE popped the driver side door as if through instinct and I pulled my custom 1911 out of the center console. The gun had a black slide and a bare stainless steel frame with rosewood grips. I checked the magazine to see what kind of ammunition I had loaded up, today it was Celestial Bronze cased rounds. I slipped the safety into the OFF position and ran for the front door.
I kicked the thing right off the hinges and moved down the hallway with my 1911 raised. I came around the corner into the master bedroom where I saw Brittany laying down on the bed. Her pretty face was all bruised up and one of her clear blue eyes was black. She had a small cut over her eyebrow and blood dripping in the corner of her mouth. Her long blond hair was a mess.
I looked five feet from the foot of the bed where a man about six-foot and around two-hundred pounds of muscle was standing. He was wearing a gray tank-top and basketball shorts. He had a baseball cap turned around backwards on his egg shaped head. I noticed that some of his knuckles were bloody but also sported a few old scars.
Instantly, I pointed my weapon at the man and pulled the trigger once.
"No!" screamed Brittany.
The round just past right through the man and impaled itself into the wall behind him. He was definitely mortal, otherwise he would have exploded in dust and smoke. You can't always tell though, so it's good to shoot just to be sure.
I tossed my gun on the bed and waited as it was now useless.
"Who the fuck are you?" the man asked who apparently thought I missed or something.
"I'm a good friend of that girl your beating up," I replied.
"You know this prick?" the man asked Brittany who had tears running down her face.
She just nodded her head.
"You little bitch. Speak to me when I'm talking to you!" he yelled as he started waddling towards her again.
"Oh, no you don't," I said as I walked up to him and turned him around by his shoulder. "Haven't you heard, don't hit a lady?"
"What? You think your going to kick my ass?" he asked.
"Oh, kicking your ass would be my pleasure."
I punched the guy across the jaw but I didn't stop there. I punched him several more times and once I thought he looked worse than Brittany, I hauled him out of the room. He was so shocked that he didn't know what to do, I didn't even give him a chance to wail in pain. I tossed him down the hallway and kicked him in the ribs a few times. Then I hauled him to his feet and smashed his head against the walls several times as we moved towards the front door.
It was a brutal beating but I was pissed. I had seen my mom get beat up almost all my life and I hated it when I saw someone beating their spouse or girlfriend or boyfriend. I hated it when I was younger and I hated it now, especially since it was Brittany, one of my best friends. And nobody hurts my friends and gets away with it, nobody.
"You need a vacation," I said as I stood him up in front of the doorway.
"What do you mean? It's my fucking house!" he said as blood ran down his face and he spit out a few of his teeth.
"Yeah, well, I'm house-sitting for you," I said as I elbowed him in the nose and kneed him in the stomach and hauled him out onto the front lawn. "Feel lucky that your leaving with your life."
He scampered off clutching at his ribs. He tripped a few times but eventually he made his way out of the neighborhood.
I turned around and walked back inside the house and down the hallway. Just as I was about to enter the room, Brittany tackled me in a bear hug. She wouldn't stop crying into my nice navy blue button-up shirt. I hugged her back as she tried to pull herself together in the hallway.
"It's alright, Brittany," I allayed. "Your safe now."
"Thanks for coming, Jon Luke," she said between sobs and she wiped her tears on my shirt. She never did like my nickname.
"Your welcome," I replied.
Brittany was tall at six feet. She was wearing a red polo-shirt and faded blue jeans. The collar on her shirt was torn down the front a little so I could see her bra strap. She didn't seem to care as we stood there while she pulled her self together.
I had so many questions for her but I wasn't going to ask them at the moment. It just wasn't the time. I stood there, staring at the walls at the pictures on the wall. They were mostly of this guy that Brittany was seeing. I got tired of looking at his face intact and motioned for the front door.
"C'mon, let's go see your brother," I said as I ushered her towards the door. "You got everything you need?"
"No, I gotta pack a few things."
She stepped away from me and moved into one of the two bedrooms, not including the master. I walked back into the master bedroom and picked up my 1911 from the bed. I picked up the spent casing and walked out the front door. I replaced my 1911 in its spot in the console with the casing and walked back into the house and into the room that Brittany had walked into. I walked in on something that I should have seen coming.
Brittany had taken her shirt off and was about to put another one on when I walked in.
"Oops, my bad," I exclaimed as I turned around with my hand over my eyes.
I heard her sigh behind me. "It's fine." I waited another second or two to let her put the shirt on. "You can look now," she said and I tuned around.
Now she was wearing a light blue T-shirt. She brushed her hair behind her ear and stood there crossing her arms. She looked at me in the eyes for a second then walked over to a closet and pulled a suitcase out. She laid the black case the size of a small refrigerator on the bed and unzipped the lid.
"You need any help?" I asked.
"Sure, can you go grab my toothbrush and toothpaste out of the bathroom?" she requested.
I nodded and walked towards the bathroom. Upon first look, the bathroom looked relatively normal, one shower, one toilet, one sink but two toothbrushes. One was pink and the other was green and both were sitting in a glass on the counter. I grabbed the pink one, figuring it was Brittany's, and the tube of toothpaste that was sitting on the counter. I started rummaging through the drawers to find something to put the toothbrush in. I eventually found a box of plastic Zip-Lock bags and grabbed several, you never know when a plastic bag could come in handy. I put the toothbrush in one of them and walked out.
"I'm guessing the pink one's yours?" I asked, looking down at the toothbrush.
When I looked up at Brittany, she was sitting next to the suitcase with her head in her hands. I walked over and sat down on the bed next to her. I put my arm around her shoulders and she leaned against me again.
"Why did I fall for that guy?" she asked.
"I don't know," I answered the probably rhetorical question.
My next question would have been why did she stay but I heard a cop car's sirens swirl in the driveway once and stopped.
"This should be good," I said still sitting on the bed.
I waited for a few minutes for a police officer to walk into the room with us. My shine running days were starting to catch up with me as I felt the urge to jump out the window and run for it. I fought the instinct and stayed put.
The cop was probably in his forties and had a really short haircut with a small mustache. His brown uniform was bulging out as if he was wearing body armor. He had is Glock 17 drawn but he dropped his aim when he saw that I was unarmed.
"Good evening. I'm Deputy Gatling. I have a couple of questions to ask you if that would be alright," he asked me.
"Am I under arrest?" I asked in return.
"Not yet," replied the deputy.
"Shoot," I offered.
He asked if we could step outside but I insisted that I stay right where I was. I had a feeling I knew why the deputy showed up. I didn't want to leave Brittany because of her emotional state, and she could back up my story.
"OK, did you assault a man named Chris Hope earlier today?" he asked eying my dog tags that hung on the outside of my shirt and my slightly bloody knuckles.
"His last name is Hope?" I asked Brittany who chuckled sarcastically.
"Yeah," she replied.
"I would say that I was responding to screams from my good friend here. I walked into the house and found her being beat up. She appeared fearful for her life so I took action," I said to Gatling who was writing everything I said down on a notepad.
"How come you didn't kill him in self-defense?"
"Because when I got a hold of him, I was no longer in fear for her life."
"Can you confirm that?" Gatling asked Brittany.
She just nodded.
"OK, well, he didn't tell me that. I should also tell you that he is planning to press charges for assault and battery against you," Gatling informed me. "Can I see some identification from both of you?"
I slowly leaned over and pulled my wallet out of my back pocket. You have to do it slowly so they don't think your pulling a weapon. Deputy Gatling held his pen against his notepad with his thumb as he placed his hand on the grip of his Glock, I guess he was a little nervous after seeing my dog tags and hearing what Chris had probably said about my gun. I pulled out my Louisiana driver's license and handed it the deputy and Brittany pulled her ID.
"You're a long ways away from Louisiana, Jon Luke," Gatling said, staring at my license.
My real name is Jon Luke but everybody at camp calls me Big Luke because I'm six-four, two-forty of muscle. I know I'm a big guy and probably could whip this deputy no problem but I decided to cooperate. He was just doing his job.
"I'm on a road trip," I responded.
"Then how did you two meet?"
"We were both in Oregon at the same time and we ran into each other. After that, we just clicked," responded Brittany.
"You two dating?" Gatling asked.
"No," we both responded simultaneously.
"Look, if he is going to press charges on Jon Luke, then I'm going to press charges on him," threatened Brittany.
I was thankful and proud of her at the same time. For one, she was helping me stay out of handcuffs. And two, she was standing up to this creep, Chris.
"You want me to call him or do you want to tell him that yourself?" asked Gatling.
I suddenly had a new found respect for Deputy Gatling. He seemed as if he was on my side in this matter. He was willing to give Chris a call to deliver the threat to him, himself.
"You better do it," said Brittany who was trying really hard to keep herself pulled together.
He nodded and stepped out of the room with a cell phone. He stood in the hallway to make the call.
I looked at Brittany who stared back. "Thank you," I said.
"I missed you," she said as she leaned her head back on my shoulder.
"Missed you too," I replied.
"I can't let my dad or Mathew see me like this," she mentioned.
"Your a daughter of Aphrodite. You were born to make yourself look pretty. You can hide this no problem," I said and she smiled.
Deputy Gatling walked in and closed his flip phone.
"Well, he dropped the charges but he had a few particular words for you both. I think it's safe to say that you and this guy aren't seeing each other anymore," he informed us.
I stood up and extended my hand to Deputy Gatling and he shook it. "I guess that means we're done here?" I asked.
"Yep, I've served and protected. I've done my job," he said. "Have a good rest of your evening."
Before he left, I had one more question for the deputy. "Hey, Deputy Gatling? What injuries did Mr. Hope sustain?"
He smiled and turned around, "He sustained three broken ribs, a broken nose, a concussion, and his face was beaten to a pulp. All that and a bruised ego."
"OK, thank you," I said.
He stepped out and I heard his car leave the driveway through the still open door. I had kicked the door off the hinges and I was not planning on fixing it.
I helped Brittany finish packing and we left the house. I spent a good five minutes trying to rearrange my own luggage which took up half the space as Brittany's did, probably less. Then I had to stuff the trunk of the Charger with Brittany's fridge sized suitcase. I climbed in the front seat and KATE started her engine.
"That his Camaro?" I asked Brittany who had been waiting for me in the shotgun seat.
"Yeah, please don't blow it up. You've gotten yourself in enough trouble already today," she told me, probably seeing on my face that I really wanted to.
"Aw!" I whined.
She smiled at me and I put the car in reverse. I backed out of the driveway and left the neighborhood. We traveled along I90 East as we headed for Billings. I drove at the speed limit pretty much, no need to speed because we weren't in a big hurry. We didn't roll into Billings until 2130 hours or so and Brittany figured that was way too late to pick up Mathew.
"So, what do you want to do then?" I asked as we sat in the parking lot of a Olive Garden.
"We could go in and have dinner?" she suggested.
During the drive she had taken some ambrosia and nectar and her bruises were starting to heal up quite a bit. Whatever hadn't healed up she was able to cover with makeup. If we went in there, nobody would shoot me dirty looks as if I was the one that hit her.
I knew I could never win an argument with her so I just went with it. We walked inside and had a nice supper, with the exception of the waiter asking about the mascara and small blood stains on my shirt. I just dodged the question and continued eating my meal. Afterward, we got back in the car and tried to find a hotel with rooms available. I specifically asked every hotel that we called for a room with two beds. Just my luck, every single hotel in all of Billings only had single bedrooms available. So, we booked a room and that was the end of it.
"Well, alright then," said Brittany who apparently had a little too much wine at supper.
I, on the other hand, didn't have even a sip of alcohol. It was my tradition that I only drank when I was cleaning my guns, and it was always Coors. So, needless to say, I was able to drive.
We pulled into the parking lot and we stepped out of the car, or I should say I stepped out of the car. Brittany just put her feet on the ground but didn't get up.
"Jon Luke, carry me," she beckoned.
"Bo, you're drunk. Not helpless, hogtied, or crippled," I responded.
"So? Carry me," she held her arms out so her hands laid limp, begging me to carry her. "Mr. Valet Boy, will you tell this man to be a gentleman and carry me to our room?" she asked the valet who was standing right next to me.
"You should do it, sir. Hell hath no fury like woman scorned," said the valet.
"Yeah? Though I walk through the valley in the Shadow of Death, I fear no evil for I am the baddest motherfucker around," I replied and he laughed.
In the end, I ended up carrying Brittany up to our room. She opened the door with the key card and I stepped inside with her cradled in my arms. I laid her down on the bed and handed her the remote to the TV. I headed back down to KATE and asked the valet to help grab our bags. KATE would drive off when the valet or anybody else wasn't looking. I took the heavy suitcase which was Brittany's and I let the valet carry the light one.
When we stepped into the room, Brittany's shirt, jeans, shoes and socks were on the floor by the bed. Brittany herself was laying on the bed in a white bathrobe. She was laying across the bed with her head resting on her hand and her feet almost off the side as if she was auditioning for a photo shoot.
I pulled out a five dollar bill and handed it to the valet over my shoulder. "Beat it," I told him and he was out the door.
"Hey you," Brittany said drunkenly, then bit her finger.
"That's it, no more wine for you," I said as I took a seat on the edge of the bed.
I started taking off my boots and Brittany walked on her knees and wrapped her arms around my chest. Then she started kissing my neck; that's where I drew the line. Don't get me wrong, she was attractive. She was naturally tan and her skin was smooth as a baby's bottom. I just was never good with relationships. I didn't know if I'd be able to handle losing someone like when I lost my mom.
"Look Bo, you're a very attractive young woman," I started as I stood up and faced her. "But I've never really had a girlfriend."
Brittany gasped, "Are you gay?"
I raised one eyebrow, "No. I just don't want to become emotionally attached to anyone. It compromises the mission."
"You work too hard. You need to ease up a little. Forget about the mission for a bit," she said as she grabbed my shirt and pulled me over onto the bed. Brittany could Charmspeak and her voice was damp with it. "Besides, maybe I can teach you a few things."
She started kissing me as she rolled me over onto my back. Her lips and tongue tasted of grapes and alcohol. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't enjoy it. Her eyes were looking heavy as she started to unbutton my shirt, our tongues still intertwined with each others. I pulled away for a split second. The primal side of my brain was saying Fuck her, fuck her brains out! But the rational side of my brain was advising me: This can turn out very badly.
"Brittany, are you sure about this?" I asked.
"Shut up, Jarhead, and kiss me," she replied and I complied to her demands.
She continued to unbutton my shirt but I could see on her face that she was fading fast and it wouldn't be long before it would be over. She passed out before she got to the fourth button. Brittany rolled a half turn so she was facing away from me and fell asleep. Just as I suspected, it was over just as quick as it began.
I laid there on my back thinking about what might have happened if she didn't pass out. And the repercussions later if it had. I recited the Pledge of Allegiance a few times and eventually, I drifted off to sleep as well.
