While Charlie flew the helicopter, I did math. I sat by the window and stared at the towns so far below us and calculated the estimated distance we could travel before running out of fuel. A helicopter of this size carries about 46-47 gallons of fuel, and gets about 10.80 miles per gallon. Therefore, we'd be able to go about 502.2 miles.
We ended up going 497 miles to Battle Mountain, Nevada.
That isn't far enough.
We left the now useless helicopter at the rock sign that said Welcome to Battle Mountain! Population: 3,635. I wondered how often they updated the population sign.
The whole area looked like it hadn't had visitors since its time as a gold mining town back in the 1800's. It was a country town at its best, and really served its given name well (America's armpit). All the buildings looked like they hadn't been remodeled since they were originally built, though they could have used the work.
People stared at us as if they'd never seen another human being. I felt myself being much more self-conscious of my missing arm than I had been. Before, I'd only been worried about how well I would be able to function. I hadn't thought of how people would react. Charlie noticed my discomfort and somehow found (stole) an old ratty zip-up sweatshirt that somewhat hid my bloody stump.
You will never be able to hide.
We found a small shop called the Coffee Corner that we used to take a break and make a plan. Iris Messages weren't working so we had no way of contacting anybody. The only other person in the shop was a little girl who sat on a stool at the counter, staring at us and menacingly licking her ice cream cone. It was 45 degrees out; why did this child have an ice cream cone? We almost ordered some french fries but none of us had any money.
"How long has it been since we've eaten?" I asked.
Charlie snorted. "Nine months, apparently."
I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean."
"You drank from the river just before entering the Labyrinth. So I estimate it's been about a month," Luke suggested.
"Labyrinth?" Grover butted in. We respectfully ignored him. That was a story for another time.
"Wait, we haven't had anything for a month? How are we not dead?!" Charlie threw his arms up.
"Time is different in Tartarus," I said. Grover gave us a strange look. He kept looking at me with an expression I couldn't decipher.
It had been so long since I'd had to figure out what people's expressions meant. Now it was just confusing. I couldn't tell whether Grover looked perplexed or if he looked sad. I could easily pinpoint the exact feeling Charlie was experiencing at any given moment, but determining the difference between a fake and real smile, like the one Grover wore, was much more difficult.
This is why you can never return to normal
"Jase, did you hear me?" Luke asked.
I looked away from the window and met his eyes. "What?"
"I said we should try to find a phone and call somebody, just in case. Maybe Rachel won't be affected by our communication problem since she's not a demigod."
I nodded in agreement, still not entirely into the conversation. I yawned and rested my head on Charlie's shoulder. The stump of my right arm was aching and I just wanted to go to sleep. I knew that calling Rachel was a good idea but if I was to call any mortal I would much rather have called my grandmother.
A cheerful looking woman pulled up a chair and sat at the end of our table. I didn't remember seeing her walk in. "I've got a phone you can borrow," she said. She wore a floral print dress and carried a pastel pink handbag. Her almost blindingly blonde hair was straight and went nearly down to her waist. She had shining baby blue eyes that were somehow disturbing. Something just felt wrong about the woman.
"Excuse me?" Luke prompted.
The woman smiled wider and pulled a purple Iphone out of her bag. "I heard you were looking for a phone," she said.
I lifted my head and stared at her curiously. None of us made a move for the phone. This lady was just too willing to help. If she had overheard enough of our conversation to know that we needed a phone, how was she not suspicious of our circumstances? Why was she not even slightly weirded out by our appearances?
"You've had a long journey, you've experienced many hardships. All I would like to do is help," she said.
"How do you know that?" Luke asked.
The rest of us stayed silent. The woman laughed curtly and folded her hands in her lap. "Well look at you, dear! My name is Casel. I know everything there is to know. You could call me a psychic." Her eyes hadn't left me since she sat down.
Grover bleated unbelievingly and leaned back. I had to agree with him; this lady wasn't psychic. She probably just overheard a bit of our conversation and figured we were in a little fix, or noticed that Charlie and I looked like we hadn't showered in a few years.
Casel cocked her head sadistically towards me and set her hand atop mine. I immediately pulled away. Something about the way she moved was strange, like a robot disguised as a person.
"You're a thalassophile," she guessed.
"What did you just call him?" Charlie stood up and glared at her.
"Lover of the sea," I translated. "Most people like the ocean, that's not psychic." I pulled Charlie back into his seat.
Casel took a deep breath and placed her hands on the table, equal distances apart. "Perseus," she said sweetly and more calmly than anybody had ever said that name. That got our attention. I reached for my dagger.
"What do you mean?" Grover glanced out the window as if my dad would be standing outside.
"Perseus is here. He's waiting for you. You must find him before it is too late, time is running out! Save him!" Her head rolled backwards until she suddenly snapped back upright again. Her face, only moments ago twisted in horror, mellowed into a strained smile.
"Would you still like to borrow my phone, young son of the sea?"