Hey guys, I wanted to write another three P.O.V chapter to help me transition a little more smoothly. It also, well, again it is a chapter I've written at midnight and I am watching a movie at the same time. I'm so glad for your reviews and input. And thank you for your suggestions as well.
Disclaimer, I do not own Percy Jackson, all rights belong to Rick Riordan.
The-thing that had attacked Dutch a few days prior continued to follow him. Dutch wasn't too sure what it wanted from the kid, but it seemed to think he was the best way find the boy. He had spent more time running then he had sleeping and just when he thought he could rest, bam, the monster comes lumbering at him from out of nowhere and it kept asking a rushed series of questions. Where is Percy? Why did you have Percy's bag? Do you know where Percy was going? It was safe to say that the boy's name, Percy, was forever ingrained into his mind. What was supposed to be a clean get away had become a relentless game of cat and mouse.
And unfortunately for Dutch- he was the mouse.
After maneuvering through thick traffic and into a dingy alleyway, Dutch stopped to take a moment of rest. He could no longer hear the sound of the beast following his trail. The exhausted man could finally take a breather. He swiped his rag of a sleeve across his forehead and leaned heavily against a cool stone wall. If he got more than a moment of piece, Dutch promised to get himself back on the right track.
"Well, well, well." Dutch flinched, the right track was blocked by some young-bloods covered in tattoos and shiny jewelry. "If it ain't some old fart taking refuge in our ally."
The safest option, his only option was to stick to the program of cowardice. "I don't want any trouble."
All five of the men laughed heartily, like dunks at a bar. Dutch tried to back track out of the ally, he refused to turn his back to the group of men. They were like animals, they'd kill him for fun if given half a chance. With each step he took back, the men took another step forward. Where was a giant, scary monster when you needed one?
"Oh, it looks like he's going to mess himself."
The young men began to take increasingly larger steps towards Dutch. He shivered even worse than he would on a sub-zero New York winter night. Each of the thugs were brandishing rather large knifes and smiling like feral dogs. There was no possible way they were going to let him leave the ally with his life. The cowardly thief had wandered into a wolf den when the beast were hungry for fresh blood.
Dutch's next step sent him sprawling onto his back. And then the attack began.
He was kicked, cut, thrown around the ally like an empty cardboard box. Each blow was more painful than the last. Dutch clenched his eyes shut and waited for his inevitable demise. One of the men leaned down and grasped the older man by the shirt. His smile was even more sinister up close.
"Any last words, old man?" The younger pressed his blade to Dutch's jaw. "Seeing as how you were unfortunate enough to wander into our ally, I thought it was only right."
Dutch wanted to laugh bitterly, only right. Though Dutch didn't have any high horse he could sit upon without being hypocritical. He had robbed a severely injured kid for all he had. The thief let his head fall back in acceptance. Dutch always knew that he was going to die on the streets. According to the pain he felt all over and the knife at his throat, apparently the day had finally come at full force.
The young man released his shirt, Dutch had thought it was so he could get better leverage to thrust the blade, but the hit never came. All of the men who had beat him screamed in fear, the sound of their scrambling feet had told him something scared them off. Dutch groaned, feeling sort of grateful to be alive, however the pain made him wish that the thug had been given the chance to end his life. Large but gentle arms scooped him off of the ground. Dutch's brain did a double take, he may have been a starving homeless man, but he highly doubted that anyone would be able to pick him up as if he were a child.
The man cracked a swollen eye open. It was the monster! "Let me go!"
"You need help, those mean men hurt you badly." The monster replied childishly. "I'm going to get you help."
Dutch tried to protest more instead his head lulled back uselessly and his arms became too heavy to use. The monster grinned at him with a rather human looking smile as it carried him into the street. As the man began to pass out he heard the beast assure him he'd be fine. You're going to be ok.
Tyson sat at the homeless man's bedside. It was a good thing he had been following the smelly guy almost since they had first met. The young Cyclopes had tried to find Percy, but each time he thought he was following the right sent trail he'd get lost and end up somewhere Percy wasn't. Now, Tyson's only hope on finding his friend was the stinky man. He's the last person Tyson knew for sure had talked to his friend.
It took a lot of Band-Aids and medicine before the doctors had finally aloud Tyson to see the man. After all he, had saved the man's life. They had even given him two peanut butter sandwiches while he waited. Tyson watched as the man's scruffy face began to twitch. The Cyclopes felt himself stirring with anticipation, he would finally be able to get the man to tell him about Percy.
"Ohhh... my head..." The man groaned and reached up to grasp his wrapped head.
Tyson didn't wait more than a moment before speaking, "Oh goody you're awake!"
"Oh, jeez!" The man yelped as he tried to scramble back. He said something sharply under his breath before resting his head on the hospital pillow again. "Hey kid, what are you doing in here? How did I get to a hospital?"
"I brought you here." Tyson said cheerfully with a proud smile on his face. Daddy would be proud of him. "The doctors let me stay here to make sure you're okay, and you still haven't answered my questions."
The man shifted on the bed. "Questions?"
"Yes."
"You sat in a crummy hospital room to ask me some questions." The man persisted.
"Yes."
Tyson watched him as a strange look came across his face, "Don't you have a home to get to or something, kid?"
"No. Can you just tell me about Percy? Where was Percy going?"
The man blinked in disbelief, "You're the one whose been chasing me around? Who ripped the bag off of my arm?"
"Yes."
"Look." The man began sharply. "He was looking for someone named 'Chiron' but that's all I know, I didn't stick around to do more than take his bag. Can you just leave me alone now? It's not right for some kid to be chasing a grown man around just to ask questions. So just get out, you got your answer."
"Thank you." Tyson tried to hug the man but he remembered that the man was really hurt. "I will tell the nice ladies to give you their best peanut butter sandwich! Bye-bye."
Once again Tyson happily began to resume his search, hoping that if he found this Chiron guy he'd be able to find his friend too.
Slate stood next to Kronos's coffin glaring at the three women who stood before them. They had given information on the boy's whereabouts, but they had not informed him about how well the demigoddess on his team was able to fight. The girl had taken Killer out before he had a chance to grab the son of Poseidon. Now Slate no longer had his side kick and he was unable to get his hands on the boy.
He was forced to get on his hellhound and report his failure.
"We gave you your information. The boy was as good as yours!" Tempest argued. "It isn't our fault that your men were incompetent and unable to catch him."
"You failed to provide us with full in tell." The titan lord's pet, Luke, was also a part of this debriefing. "It isn't hard to tell how powerful or how confident a demigod is by looking at them."
The monster frowned at the boy's input. Slate didn't see any use in him, but Kronos seemed to enjoy having the son of Hermes as his right hand. In front of them, the Grey sisters still stood defiant. Despite their faulty information, they still believed they should be paid for 'helping' in their endeavor to capture Percy Jackson. The titan of time still hadn't said if he were going one way or the other.
Slate was for sending the witches away without so much as a single Drachma.
All through the exchange Kronos had been silent, that silence was dangerous. The monster wondered what the titan was thinking, Slate hoped that he wouldn't end up the subject of his wrath. The blond demigod stood at the opposite end of Kronos's coffin, wringing his hands on the leather handle of his sword, Backbiter. An ironic name for a sword that belonged to a traitor.
"Regardless, I demand we receive payment for our services." Tempest persisted, though her sisters looked a little bit more leery of her boldness.
Luke shot forward quickly, so quickly that Slate hadn't even seen the movement. Before anyone could react the teen had his blade at the grey woman's throat. The other two sisters stumbled backwards as they tried to get out of striking distance. Tempest tried to pull herself from the furious demigod's grasp, but his grip was far too strong.
"Just be glad the three of you are leaving with your lives." Kronos spoke finally. "Go, before I change my mind."
The three women couldn't scramble out of the Big House fast enough. Soon it was only Slate, the angry demigod, and the titan of time remaining in the house. Luke re-sheathed his sword and kneeled in front of the coffin. Slate wondered how Kronos had gotten the boy to be so loyal to him, how did he get him to betray the gods? It had never really been clear to Slate why Luke had joined the titans.
"Sorry for losing my head, Lord Kronos." the boy muttered before heading up the stairs and to the comatose girl.
"We'll have to get more aggressive about getting the boy." Kronos told Slate. "It seems like he isn't going to be as easy to get as we thought...send our best tracker to retrieve the boy."
I know you were probably expecting another Percy chapter, and that will come up next. What did you think about this chapter?