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If I Owned Anything I Probably Wouldn't Be Here
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Last Time...
The car flipped and I felt my stomach go with it. I saw the ground come closer and I turned, reaching for my mother and then, everything went dark.
"We can't just leave him here!"
"Damn it, we don't have time for this Thalia."
"Guys!"
My hold on consciousness was tentative at best. My body ached and the snippets of conversation I heard during my intervals into the realm of consciousness did little to alleviate my nausea and anxiety. When I did eventually regain my bearings I was hit with the sensations of my head thrumming and my throat protesting incessantly of thirst.
I sat up and looked around. I was in a forest clearing. The sun was out and I felt the bark of the tree I was propped against dig into my back. A gust of wind ruffled my hair.
"So you're up," a masculine voice said to my right.
I turned and my eyes locked onto cerulean eyes. It was a boy who looked to be older than I was. He possessed short sandy blonde hair with a sharp nose. He was leaning against a tree with a golf club slung over his shoulders. He wore a ragged makeshift leather armor over his t-shirt, tattered jeans, and scuffed shoes. He eyed me with palpable weariness.
I frowned and debated whether or not to respond. He was armed with protective had an athletic, muscular build. His grip on the club was rigid and his muscles were tight and visible.
Suddenly, he looked down and stared at my clothes. I frowned in confusion but was spared from further thought when he turned and looked down at the ground before saying, "I'm sorry".
I looked down and was greeted by the sight of dried blood slattered against my clothes. I squinted in confusion before the realization suddenly crashed down on me. The accident. I felt around my body, searching for wounds but, to my surprise, I was free of any. I stared at my unmarked and unblemished hands before I felt the pit form in my stomach. I have no cuts or wounds. So...who's blood is this? I felt my eyes begin to burn. I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. I tightened my fist and felt my jaw tense. I turned towards the sandy-haired boy. I felt the lump and my throat threaten my composure before I swallowed harshly and managed to speak;
"Where's my mother?", I rasped.
The boy turned towards me before looking down again.
"I'm sorry", he offered.
I looked down and closed my eyes. The silence stretched before I managed to ask, "How?"
"We were on the run from some," he paused. "Dangerous people. They had taken some shots at us and your car managed to get hit. And when you swerved you guys managed to take them down. But, when we got there she-," he took a shaky breath. "We found you you were still breathing so we took you and...yeah".
I nodded slowly, absorbing the information. My emotions felt turbulent and I didn't trust myself with words so I stayed silent.
A while later the silence that had descended upon us was broken by multiple footsteps entering the clearing. Leading the way, there was a girl who seemed to be around my age. She had shoulder-length, spiky black hair, electric blue eyes with dark eye-liner, and freckles across her nose. However, her features were juxtaposed with her outfit. she wore clothes that were somewhere between punk and Goth; a black T-shirt, tattered black jeans, and a leather jacket. Silver chains clung onto her wrist and a Mace canister hung off her waist. She was built like a long-distance runner, lithe and strong. I swallowed as I looked at her.
Besides her stood a little girl, around six years old with long blond hair She was clutching a bronze knife as long as her forearm.
However, despite their oddities, it was the one who came after them that stood out the most. Another boy, this one looked fifteen-ish, with brown curly hair and brown eyes, he was around my height, if not a bit shorter. Perhaps around 5'6. However, two small horns and hairy brown goat legs broke the illusion of normalcy. He eyed me with far more caution than the boy next to me had.
I blinked hard trying to dispel the hallucination. Upon my failure, I turned to the boy next to me.
"Listen, I think I might have a concussion. Does that guy over there look weird to you?"
Upon hearing my question the teen turned to me in surprise before going back to weariness, "You can see it?"
I frowned, "The goat legs? Yeah".
He hmphed before eyeing me consideringly. He nodded before saying, "Come on, come introduce yourself".
After some water and some rations, we gathered around in a circle and began.
The punk girl introduced herself as Thalia, the little girl as Annabeth Chase, goat legs as Grover Underwood, and golf club as Luke Castellan.
They explained to me the concept of demigods, monsters, gods, and their goal of reaching a safe-heaven known as Camp Half-Blood, and the likelihood that I was a demigod. Luke had clarified the story of how I came to be with them and informed me that it was a cyclops that had been on their pursuit. Grover had remained silent over much the explanation and when speaking seemed to have trouble meeting my eyes and stammered a great deal. I was both somehow surprised and unsurprised that Thalia was a daughter of the King of the Gods. After their explanation, they informed me of their plans of marching on towards the camp.
"It's lo-o-located on the no-o-rth shore of L-l-long Island. Fr-rom, where we are now it w-would be best to get a move on before it gets dark," Grover explained.
I frowned, "That's almost a days walk? Do you guys have any form of transportation?"
My question was answered by Annabeth who snorted before saying "If we had one why would be here in the forest?"
Cheeky little brat. My response to her was interrupted by Luke who glanced at the girl in amusement while saying, "None of us here can drive and there are no trains going there".
"I can drive." At my declaration, they all looked at me in surprise.
"My mom taught me before...", the rest went unsaid.
Luke grimaced solemnly before sighing. He stood up and dusted his pants before saying, "If that's the case then all we need is a car". He then smiled impishly. I raised an eyebrow before turning to Thalia.
She shrugged, "Son of Hermes".
I nodded sagely before wondering what that meant.
We soon found ourselves in a parking lot with Luke standing almost proudly in from of an opened driver-side door of a grey 2000 Toyota Camry. After Luke somehow managed to hot-wire and start the car we crammed in and began to drive with Grover in the passenger's seat giving directions.
Along the way, it had begun to rain. The skies had turned dark and cloudy and the road began to get slippery and wet. We had driven for about an hour before Grover started tapping his hove against the car door and his fingers began to twitch. Thalia, noticing his discomfort questioned Grover.
"Grover are you ok?"
Grover's face tightened, "They're gaining".
The temperature in the car seemed to drop several degrees and lightning flashed in the sky.
The once comfortable mood turned tense.
About 15 minutes later something hit the back right of the car. The wheel threatened to spin out of my control and I felt panic in my heart as the memory of last night played in my head. I felt a hand grip my shoulder and my eyes focused as I pulled left and regained control.
"Turn right!", cried Grover.
I did as requested and left something hit the car and propel me into the turn with far more force than anticipated. I gripped the steering wheel, my knuckled straining against my skin and I tried to regain control.
"Turn right!"
I did as requested. Any irritation I might have felt at being ordered was given to panic and anger at our assailants.
"Everyone out we gotta make the rest on foot", Said Grover as he kicked his door open.
I stopped the car and turned to my companions. Annabeth was white-faced and Luke was in a similar state and he grimaced and hoisted Annabeth out of the car. Thalia had a shield out with the face of a woman with writhing snakes for hair and a spear. She opened the door and stepped out into the rain. I watched as a black figure lunge at her and was forced back with a shield to the face.
I watched as another figure with glowing red eyes stalks her from behind on fours. I felt my heart drop as I pushed open my door and stepped out. and as it was luging towards Thalia I stepped forwards and punched its snout. I felt something break and give and was rewarded with the sight of the beast flying back and hitting a tree. It did not get up. I stared at my fist in surprise.
Thalia, who had felt a brush of danger had turned and was too surprised at the sight of a Hellhound being beaten back with a bare fist.
She met my eyes and grinned with a smile that showed far too many teeth. Unbidden I returned her snarl. And so we fought. And as we beat back a myriad of beastly hounds we headed east towards where we'd seen the others runoff.
I felt claws and teeth scraped against my skin and felt them slide off and fail to penetrate. Adrenaline kept me moving even as my legs grew heavy and my arms struck out with far less vigor. Out fighting was accompanied and enunciated by the sight of lighting as Thalia struck and seared our enemies. I heard the sound of the heavy rain splatter harshly against leather and rotated and struck out with a kick. A winged figure put up a hasty guard and was sent back at the force. It snarled angrily. It was quieted by a blast of lighting.
"This way!", cried the voice of Grover.
I felt Thalia grip my hand and lead me away. We ran, our feet slapping against the muddied terrain. Along the way, I felt Thalia slow and begin to falter. I took her arm and placed it around my shoulder as we continued to run and when she couldn't any longer I hefted her, grabbing her spear twirling it before thrusting back into the approaching jaws of a hound. I kicked it off the bloodied spear before adjusting Thalia to a bridal style and continuing to run.
Soon I ran across a marked boundary and felt a wave off...something...pass through us. I fell to my off knees. I felt exhaustion gnaw at my body and mind. The rain halted and the skies parted and sunlight struck the visage of Thalia. It reflected her tired, electric blue eyes and despite my exhaustion, I couldn't help but admire her.
We were at the beginning of a valley that marched up to an ocean, which churned lazily about a mile in the distance behind a large cabin. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like they belonged to ancient Greek architecture: an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena.
My analysis was cut off by a galloping figure. From the waist up he was middle-aged, with thinning brown hair, bushy eyebrows, intense brown eyes, and a long scruffy beard. His lower half is that of a white stallion. He held a bow in his hands with a quiver full of arrows at his back.
His eyes softened as he gazed at me and Thalia's prone forms.
"Young ones," he says in a calm, solemn voice, Welcome to Camp Half-Blood".