Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians
Chapter 11
"I'll take care of the Minotaur," Percy ordered rather nervously. "You can st-"
"No," Thalia responded stubbornly, getting up slowly. "I'm going to fight along with you. You're in worse condition. How about you stay-"
"How about we all fight the Minotaur," a weak voice came from behind them.
The daughter of Zeus, and the son of Poseidon both turned around, surprised to see the son of Hades awake and standing upright.
"Great idea," Percy managed a small weak smile, and bought out Riptide. "Let's go."
"Hold up Fish Boy," Thalia held up her hand, and smiled. "Aren't you forgetting your crutches?"
Percy shook his head, but picked up his crutches all the same, sending his cousin a weak grin in return. He uncapped Riptide with one hand, while being dangerously close to falling with the other hand that had the crutches.
The son of Poseidon saw the problem immediately: he needed both hands for the crutches; and only one hand for Riptide. The problem? He didn't have three hands. He stared at his cousins, but they were too occupied talking about a plan to take down the Minotaur.
It was a hopeless case. Percy saw Nico glance at him.
"You ok?" Nico asked, looking at the severe injury.
Percy just nodded, not knowing what else to do. There was no point in worrying his cousins. He looked down on his leg, and remembered how he used to play hopscotch when he was young with only one leg. Surely he could fight the Minotaur with one leg?
In the end, Percy threw his crutches to his floor and grabbed his walking stick he had seen a few seconds before.
"We should just charge at it," Thalia suggested, not noticing that Percy had only just joined the group. "I'll fire arrows at it, while someone distracts it. Then the other person can kill it from behind."
"I'll distract it," Percy said confidently. "It'll see me as a weaker target and will go at me. Nico can kill it."
Uncertainty flashed in Nico's eyes, but he nodded- agreeing to the plan.
"Ok then," Thalia heaved a sigh, a tiny quiver in her voice to signal that she was nervous about it. "Let's do it then."
With Clarisse and Chris, in the forest:
"Forest is safer," Clarisse continued arguing constantly. "The streets are too much out in the open."
"How open?" Chris retorted with a question, "How about we check?"
"Great idea Rodriguez," Clarisse answered sarcastically. "But deal."
"Really?"
"Don't push your luck punk."
Chris just smiled, as Clarisse started stomping towards the direction for the streets. It wasn't everyday that he won an argument between him and his girlfriend.
Smiling, however, was not on Clarisse's top ten things to do list that moment. She scowled when she saw that smile, and started going back towards Chris.
"Would you mind-" Chris started, but got interrupted.
"No," was the only response he got.
Clarisse was dragging Chris towards the streets, when they heard a noise. An Infected.
"Finally," the daughter of Ares grinned in a sadistic way. "Some-"
"Let's go," Chris tugged on Clarisse's arm like a little kid, but unlike the daughter of the war god, he didn't exactly have her strength.
"I feel like drawing something," was Clarisse's answer as she walked forwards towards the noise.
Unfortunately for her, Chris knew exactly what she wanted to do. He shook his head and continued pulling and attempting to drag her.
And that was when it appeared. There it was in all it's glory- it's teeth so rotten it was nearly black with stains of fresh blood right on it's face. Its eyes looked murderous, but its smile looked nice enough.
It leaped high in the air, but not enough to defy the laws of gravity. It snarled as it landed right behind Clarisse. She managed to dodge the attack and landed right behind the Infected.
"Name something you hate!" Clarisse called out; clearly enjoying the battle she knew she might win.
"A scythe!" Chris replied, sighing afterwards, as he knew he couldn't do anything.
In less then a few seconds, the worst scythe drawing was made on the Infected's back.
The two demigods watched in fascination as the Infected stopped what it was doing. The same process of it dying happened, and once again, they covered their eyes.
"I forgot that a scythe killed them," Clarisse said sourly, as she frowned at Chris.
The only thing the son of Hermes did was shrug. "Let's just go to the streets."
With Will and Michael, the well:
"You know we should get a move on," Will said as he packed all his things. "Move to another place."
"Technically this is the safest place," Michael pointed out.
"Yeah, but it's getting dark," Will responded. "And the Infected usually like the dark."
"That's true," the son of Apollo mused. "Let's go then."
The two sons of Apollo surprisingly each carried a small bag, to carry their first aid kit, and some other things as well. Will kept on staring at his half-brother, as if he still couldn't believe it.
"Does Percy still blame himself?" Michael suddenly asked, turning his gaze to Will.
"You know him," Will answered, thinking of all the times he had looked at the Poseidon table, and saw Percy look grieved. "I'm guessing he does."
"If we make it out alive, we can tell him that I'm still alive."
"Well since you're alive- you can tell him yourself."
Michael just nodded, but deep inside, he knew, that it might not be so easy to survive. That maybe the Fates would make certain that his life string would be cut- make it certain that he would actually die.
With Annabeth and her group, outside the diner:
"You arrived a bit late didn't you?" Katie asked with a quiver in her voice.
Annabeth winced at the true accusation. "I'm sorry."
"Tell that to my eaten corpse next time you come late," Katie responded stiffly, as she made her way to the diner, still shaken.
Grover brayed nervously, and glanced at the guilty trio. He didn't exactly want to follow the daughter of Demeter, but what she said was true. Still, that didn't mean he had to follow her example of being angry. He shrugged for no reason and made his way to the diner.
"Grover!" Rachel called out, making the satyr halt his step. Once he turned around, she spoke again. "We're really sorry. We-" she empathized the 'we' part. "Really are sorry."
"I know that," the satyr responded, managing a smile.
So far, Tyson was the only one who hadn't said or done anything except stand there. Then- as if it were an electrical shock, the Cyclopes jumped up, and started running towards the diner.
The others followed him curiously, but they soon realized what he was trying to do.
A small sound of the bell rang out as the door opened a few times. Katie was sitting on one of the chairs, her elbow propping up her head as she stared out the window with almost no emotion at all.
Tyson rushed in the diner and began wrapping Katie in a hug. "We sorry," he spoke truthfully, still embracing her.
Katie returned the hug- first feeling awkward, but then relaxed, while feeling squished at the same time. "Tyson, could you..."
The friendly Cyclopes broke off the hug with a smile on his face, knowing that the apology was accepted.
