"No. Andy? Andy, wake up!" I say urgently. I crawl over to him, trying not to jostle my ankle too much. Every step I take hurts. I reach out and shake his shoulder, insistently. He doesn't wake. I am seriously panicking now. What's going to happen to him? He's all I have, except for my dog Ebony at home. But talking to a greyhound isn't exactly the same as confiding to a person.
"Help!" I shout. I'm desperate now. I need help. From anybody. "Help! Please!"
I can hear a car approaching on the highway. I limp towards the road, wincing and waving my arms. I keep yelling, and the car slows. Yes!,I think. It pulls over to the shoulder of the road and I see that it is a white van with the words 'Delphi Strawberry Service' on the side. The driver quickly rolled down the window. His striped Rasta cap is pulled over curly brown hair, and he wears an orange T-shirt with black lettering.
"Please!" I said. "I need help. My friend and I got in a car crash and-"
"I know." He interrupted. "Listen. I have to get you and your friend away from here. I'm surprised they haven't come back for you yet. We have to get to camp."
"You know about this camp, too? What is it? Who are 'they'? Who are you?"
"I can't explain right now. Please hurry! I'll help you with your friend, but you need to get in the car." He sounds alarmed. A faint howling sound starts in the distance… like a pack of wolves. The boy in the car pales at the noise.
"Who are you? Can you at least tell me that?" I ask, as the he pushes the door open.
"Fine! I'm Grover Underwood. Keeper. I need to get you to camp. Now." He was completely out of the car now. But-but… wait. He's got… goat legs?
"Wha… what the he- what are those?" I sputtered. Grover looked down and sighed, as if he'd explained this one before.
"I'm a satyr. Half human, half goat. You'll learn more when we get to camp. Now, where's your friend?"
"Jus-just over the hill." I said warily. My eyes were wide.
" Okay, I'll get him. But first, you're hurt. Eat this. It'll fix your ankle enough so you can walk." He handed me a square of… something. But I was kind of desperate. And my ankle really was starting to bother me. Like, a lot. I stuffed the square in my mouth. It tasted like muffins. The kind that Andy's mom made when I spent the night over at his house. I stared at Grover walk down the hill for a few seconds before following.
"It's called ambrosia." Grover called over his shoulder. "It'll mend your ankle a little, but not completely. We'll take care of it back at camp."
Grover had slung Andy over his back, and though he looked strong, carrying all that dead weight has to be tough. I went over and grabbed hold of Andy's arms, hooking my hands across his chest.
With my help, Grover began to move faster. The howls were sharper, clearer now. Closer.
"Oh no, oh no, no. This can't be happening." Grover moaned. We are at the top of the hill. I look to the right. Nothing. But when I looked to the left, my mouth fell open slightly. Standing, blocking the street, were three enormous dogs. If you could even call them that. Each approximately the size of a large rhino, they stared at us. Their fur was black, and their eyes were dark red, cold and calculating. These things… they were smart. And they were looking straight into my eyes.
"Not the hell hounds again." Grover said. I had expected him to be cowering in fear, but instead he just looked tired. Oh sure, he was scared. I could tell. But he had buried his fear.
As if triggered by Grover's words, the middle dog growled, and began slinking forwards. The others followed immediately. Now, I thought I was going to die. But a few seconds after the hounds made a move, I heard a different sound. A bark, more urgent than vicious, like the hell hounds had been. But I knew that bark. I'd recognize it anywhere.
"Ebony?" I called. My dog leaped from the green shrubs at the edge of the forest. Her sleek, jet black fur was full of twigs and dirt. She turned toward the oncoming pack, and growled. That was her warning signal. I had heard Ebony plenty of times before, but I had never understood what exactly she was growling at. But now… now I got it.
"Monsters." I whispered. Saying it out loud made all this real somehow. Like before I was just dreaming and now I had woken up. Grover glanced over at me curiously.
The devil dogs got closer. Ebony tensed, the sprung at them wildly. Was-was she… growing? She was! My average sized greyhound grew just as big as those creepy hounds, maybe even a little larger. Her warm brown eyes turned crimson. Her fangs sunk into the neck of the lead dog, turning it into a puddle of shadow, black as pitch against the light grey of the concrete. The other canines howled and turned on Ebony, hatred filling their eyes. But Ebony didn't back down. Grover turned to me, his mouth slightly opened.
"Is she yours?" he asked.
"Uh huh." I was scared now. Even though Ebony was clearly able to take care of herself, she was still my dog. I didn't want her to get hurt.
"Did you know?" he whispered.
"No." I was… I didn't know how to feel. The right word came to me. Overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed. I had no idea what was going on, I was lost, my only brother was unconscious, a goat boy was taking me to a random camp, and my dog was being attacked. And I was just so tired.
Ebony had taken out two out of the three hell hounds, but she was limping, and didn't look like she was going to be able to take on the third. Grover realized this about the same time I did, and rushed to help. I held up a still unconscious Andy, while he springs forward with a wooden club. Just as the hell hound was leaping at Ebony, he smacked it away, but that only made it angry. It came back growling louder than ever, and it was now targeting Grover as well as Ebony.
I knew I had to act. I couldn't just let my dog and a potential…what? Ally, maybe? Anyway, I couldn't just let them die.
Creeping forward, in the canine manor of the devil dog in front of me, I look the hell hound in it's blood-red eyes. I smirk at the way it's rhythmic growl falters slightly. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Grover slowly and quietly loading Andy and Ebony into the car. I concentrate on the problem in front of me. Literally. Right in front of me. I was about a foot from the dog's face. I look at it again, glaring with anger-filled eyes.
"You will not hurt my friends." I command in a low, confident voice. The dog shrinks away from my words. "Go back to where you belong. You will not touch me. You will not touch my friends. Go."
At my last word, the pavement below the hell hound cracks, and opens to display a dark chasm. Ancient voices spiral up, sounding like the rustling of dry leaves across the ground, calling to the devil dog, forcing it back to where it came from. Where that is, I do not know. The chasm swallows the hell hound and the street slams together again, leaving a ten foot long scar on the road.
I turn to look behind me, and Grover is gaping. But not at me, at something above my head. I glance up in time to see a glowing black skull fade into nothingness.
"What is that?" I exclaim.
"Jeez, Raven! What a day you're having. You fight off a hell hound without freaking touching it, and then you get claimed by Hades?"
"Hades is my dad? Like the Hades? God of death and all that?"
"I'll tell you everything on the way to camp, but we really have to go. There will be more where that came from. Soon." He said. I nodded.
Once we had strapped Andy into the back, (who was still unconscious) and positioned Ebony next to him, I sat in shotgun and Grover took the wheel.
"Well," he said. "You having a hell hound for a pet does explain why you were almost never attacked by any other monsters. What's your name, by the way?"
"Raven Nerezza." I reply. "How far away is this camp?"
"Not far, since you already live in New York. Camp Half Blood. It's on Long Island Sound."
"Oh." I say. "How come I've never heard of it before?"
"Well it's not something we advertise to just anyone. Only to demigods. Like you."
"What is a demigod?"
"Half human, half god." Grover replied, scratching the back of his neck.
"Are you freaking kidding me?"
"No, I'm not." Grover replied. I was kind of awed. But also angry. Why hadn't my father, the all-powerful Hades, helped me? Why hadn't he saved me from my mom when she was staring off into space, not caring that I was starving? When my grandma died? When my brother died? When I had been bullied so bad I thought about ending it all?
"Huh." I said, not exactly trusting my voice.
"I know how you feel." Grover said. I thought he was just saying it to be nice, but then he continued. "Seriously. I know how you feel. Satyrs can read emotions. I know that you're tired, too. So if you just want to sleep, that's fine. You can ask questions later. And at camp, you can go to the infirmary to get your injuries looked at. And you can… wash the blood off."
I smiled gratefully before folding my arms against the window and laying my head on them, forming a sorry excuse for a pillow. But I wasn't really in the position to be picky. I fell asleep quickly afterwards.