All rights belong to Rick Riordan. I do not own any Percy Jackson-related content.
She followed the GPS through the forest, out onto the streets, past the library, through a few grocery store parking lots, and down a long road to finally get to the hospital. By the time she was there, though, it was dusk. The summer air had now turned a bit cool, helping Isabelle relax a little. Even though her mother was in the hospital, her conversation with Detective Pallas brought her a new level of resolve.
She approached the front building of St. Joseph's Medical Center. The front wall of the building was adorned with rectangular panel windows that refracted the light from the inside. Isabelle walked in and headed for the front desk. She bent down to the table, expecting to ask about when visiting hours were. However, the desk assistant seemed to be in a weird trance.
"Hey. Hi. Hello?" Isabelle waved her hand in front of the glass and even knocked on it to get his attention. However, he was not paying any attention. His name tag said, Brad. Brad seemed to be looking at nothing in particular, and his eyes were glazed over.
Isabelle frowned. She hoped he was okay. She looked up at the cameras in the corners of the room, only to see that they were turned away from the front desk. Her heart slowed a bit and she slowly turned to the common area. Isabelle had seen enough movies and television scenes to know that deactivated cameras meant something was going down. However, when she looked at the common area, she did not see any ninjas or henchmen. Instead, she just saw an empty waiting room. The walls were white and blue, littered with pamphlets in those weird wall bucket things. She wished there was a pamphlet that said, Did you just watch your mother be carried away in an ambulance? Did you almost fight an elderly woman today? Here's what you need to know.
Unfortunately, though, there's no how-to guide for life.
Isabelle turned back to the desk to see a list in the desk assistant's hand. The list seemed to have the locations of all the new patients checked into the medical center. Isabelle thought it may have been a bit too convenient, and part of her felt like Detective Pallas had something to do with this. She seemed to be more than she let on.
She saw her mother's name on the list.
Rachel Elizabeth Johnson- 4E.
Isabelle kept her eyes on the desk assistant as she crept towards the double doors. She then quickly burst through them, trying to find Room 4E. She luckily found it fairly quickly and knocked on the door. It was painfully silent for a moment until she heard a quiet, "Come in."
Isabelle's heart leapt as she tore open the door. There her mother was, her red hair swept over her left shoulder. The walls were an emotionless beige, except for the white sheets her mother was on. She had an IV in her arm and she was hooked up to a few other unfamiliar machines. Her mother's eyes focused on Isabelle for a second, and then widened in recognition.
"Izzy! Come here, baby." Her mother opened her arms and Isabelle felt tears welling at the back of her eyes. She dropped her bag and hugged her mother.
Isabelle meant to say, "I'm so glad you're okay." Instead, it came out as a "Om so mmm mmm mmmm," as she was burrowed in her mother's shoulder.
Somehow, her mother understood.
"I'm okay, baby, I'm okay. You know they tried to have me on pain medication, but not your old lady," she promised. Isabelle remembered that her mother tried to stay away from morphine and any other drugs that would alter her state of consciousness. Apparently, she had some pretty trippy experiences when she was younger.
Her mother released Isabelle from the hug and looked at her for a second. Isabelle's heart dropped.
There were deep red cuts all over her mother's neck.
Anger surged through Isabelle's blood as she squeezed out the words, "What. Happened."
Her mother reached for Isabelle's hand. Her voice was scratchy and tired. "I had just gotten home from the Titans art program, and first off, let me say that I was actually having a pretty damn good day today."
Isabelle knew that her mother, when she wasn't teaching art, was the head of an arts-centered youth program for inner city youth who come from low socioeconomic statuses. Her mother believed that these children had hidden artistic talents and that exploring them would provide a positive, encouraging area for the children to grow and thrive instead of being on the streets. She was never scared of them like other older women were; her mother consistently bragged about how she once threw a hairbrush at the head of a mob. She hit him in the eye. To top it all off, her mother had so much inherited money from her father, that she managed to find a way to not charge any acceptance or registration fee for the program.
Her mom was a bad-ass.
Isabelle squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you had a good day, Mom. Go on. What happened."
Her mother took a breath and looked to the ceiling. "I came home and I had a feeling that someone was in the house. Instead of going through the front door, I decided to go through the back. I heard some movement in the living room and I knew that there someone in there. I crept up the stairs, but you know how much those old stairs creaked. I heard them approaching quickly and I ran upstairs into my room."
Isabelle found it hard to breathe. It was difficult to hear about her mother in trouble. However, though her mother's voice sounded ragged, her eyes were bright and full of life.
"I grabbed the first thing I could fine and when they came through the door, I gave them a fight. They got me, though, and choked the life out of me. I was almost passed out, but then somehow I got away. I called the police and now I'm here."
Isabelle squeezed her mother's hand and kissed it. "Mom, I'm so sorry. I should've been there."
Her mother carefully slipped her hand out of Isabelle's grasp and combed through Isabelle's hair. "Shhh. There was nothing you could have done and you came all the way here to see little old me? I'm the luckiest mama in the world."
Isabelle let a tear fall. She was going to find who did this.
As if her mother could tell what she was thinking, she began to scratch her daughter's hair. "Don't do anything rash, okay? You are just like your father sometimes."
Isabelle remembered the words of the creepy old woman.
You look just like your father. I'm glad he's dead.
"Mom?" Isabelle's hand was trembling. The room was starting to get cold and she could feel goosebumps protruding from her arms.
"Hmm?" Her mother once again grabbed her hand.
Isabelle remembered the weird drink Pallas gave her. She stood up and retrieved the bottle from her bag and brought it to her seat by her mother's bed. However, she did not sit down quite yet. Her mother looked at the drink and then back at Isabelle. "There was a woman today. An old woman who was super creepy. She wouldn't stop smiling, she cracked the desk at the library with her bare hands, and she talked about my father as if she knew him. Well, not just knew him…but seemed to hate him."
Her mother stiffened up, and Isabelle noticed a micro-expression of panic flash on her mother's face. That expression quickly changed to sadness. Isabelle's mother blinked, and then closed her eyes as she leaned back in her bed. Isabelle knew that talking about her birth-parents was hard for her mother, but she always seemed to have a harder time talking about Isabelle's birth-father.
"Your father…was a soldier. He had this black hair that always seemed like it was bed hair. He had eyes that made you feel like you were out on the ocean. They were the kindest eyes I've ever seen. He was always so brave, but sometimes he was dim-witted. He'd annoy you right up to your limit and then he would smile at you. And that smile would make you feel like it was summer again. He was...beautiful, but this beauty didn't come from just his looks. He was a beautiful person."
Her mother opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. "He was always good. He always tried to do the right thing, even if it was hard. He would risk everything to save one person. Even if they were an enemy. He served for years, fighting to protect not only this country, but the world from threats that most people will never know about. In his…adventures, he sometimes ran into some bad people. Him being a good person, whenever he saw bad things, he would try to stop them. And that would make enemies."
She turned so she locked eyes with Isabelle. Her mother's eyes were red and raw. "Whoever you talked to today at the library was one of those bad people. You need to stay away from her and people like her as much as you can."
Her mother leaned forward so she was sitting up and gripping Isabelle's hand. Her eyes were filled with visceral worry and her grip was like a vice. "They will kill you. You need to make sure you don't go back to that library over the next few days. I've already made a few calls to some old friends of mine and they will be in town to investigate and clear out the area. You stay here. Do you hear me?"
Isabelle looked down to the floor. She mumbled an, "Okay."
"Do you hear me?!"
Isabelle met her mother's eyes. "Yeah, Mom."
Her mother leaned back as if she was satisfied with that answer.
Isabelle eyed her mother. This is the first time that she felt like her mother was keeping secrets from her. "Mom, are we in danger?"
Her mother thought for a second and nodded. "Yes. That's why you need to stay out of trouble, Izzy. Just stay here and wait for my friends to get here."
"Who was that who came to my job? She scared me."
Her mother shook her head and bit her lip. "I don't know, baby."
Isabelle blinked. She trusted her mother with her life, and if her mother says that her birth-father was a good person, then that's what he was. But Isabelle thought it was kind of weird that people would come back from her birth-father's past and try to hurt her. Why would they want to hurt her if her birth-father was dead?
She didn't know much about him besides him being in some kind of special wing of the military with her birth-mother. Apparently, both of her birth-parents had been decorated heroes. She didn't know much about her adoptive mother's past either, so whenever she heard bits and pieces about it, she was always shocked at how bad-ass her mother was when she was younger.
It was quiet for the next few seconds as her mother closed her eyes and seemed to sink into a half-sleep/half-awake state.
"Wait, so Mom, you were in the military too? With my birth parents?"
Her mother chuckled and stretched. "Let's just say I was more of a consultant. They were the ones out there on the field. Sometimes, I helped make the strategies, but whenever I saw your parents in action, I was in awe. The benefits I got from that helped us get the house we have today."
"Huh. Our house is cute. Maybe I should join the military."
"You absolutely will not."
Isabelle laughed and her mother smiled. For the first time during their conversation, Isabelle saw her mother's warmth shine through again.
Her mother coughed and said raspily, "You can save the world in a different way. By saving using that degree to salvage what's left of the environment. You'll be great."
Isabelle looked up bashfully. "Thanks, Mom."
Her mother looked at the bottle in Isabelle's hands. "Is that for me?"
Isabelle looked down at the glowing golden liquid. She had almost forgotten about it. She handed it to her. mother, who took it hesitantly.
Her mother eyed it warily. "Who gave you this?"
Isabelle explained. "Yeah. So, when I got back to the house, one of the detectives gave this to me and told me to give this to you because of the poison. Apparently, it was the poison from some…beast-thing? And only she and Apollo could make something for you to cure the poison? I'm not quite sure what she was talking about."
Her mother uncapped the bottle and held it to her nose. She then raised an eyebrow. "What was the detective's name?"
"Detective Pallas. She had these striking gray eyes. She told me to make sure you drink this tonight."
Her mother looked like she was fighting to hold back a smile. "Detective Pallas, huh? Well, baby girl, you just met someone who knew your father back in the day. She knows quite a lot about a lot of things and I trust her."
Isabelle couldn't believe it. "Wait, Mom, you knew her too?"
Her mother mhm'd as she drank the entire bottle. She finished it and her body shivered a bit. She cleared her throat and admitted, "Yeah. Met her once or twice in my life."
Nothing was making sense for Isabelle. "What about Apollo? Who is that? Someone else from the military? Did you all use code names from Greek mythology?"
Her mother gave a yawn. "Something like that. Don't forget to take some…tea…"
And her mother was out. Isabelle watched her mother slip off into a light sleep. She looked down to see that she was still holding her mother's hand. Isabelle then looked around to see if there were any nurses passing by, and then put her head down on the hospital bed to sleep.