The plane ride was like any other Heather had experienced: the engine was loud, the turbulence bouncy, the seats hard and impossible to sleep in. Nico was silent the entire way, and every time Heather attempted to say a word to him, he pursed his lips in a disapproving gesture. She gave up eventually, staring out the window wearily, her body resisting her attempts to take a nap.
The most interesting occurrence was when the flight attendant was serving wine to the passengers across from them. Heather had wrinkled her nose at the smell and glared at the alcoholic beverage like it had personally offended her. As she turned her back to it, the liquid immediately lost all its color, and, based on the surprised comments of the passenger in question, turned to water. Heather didn't notice; she was watching a single wisp of dark cloud pass the window, and jumped when she could've sworn a horse galloped past the window, its body little more than dark cloud.
When the plane touched down in Dallas, Nico stood, grabbed his bag, and left, a grouchy Heather in his wake. The sun was blinding, and it had to be over a hundred degrees already.
"So what do we do now?" the daughter of Dionysus asked. "We don't have another flight, do we?"
"No," was the curt reply. "We don't have the money for another ticket anyway. I'm not familiar with this region, so shadow travel would be inaccurate at best."
"We are not driving to Fort Stockton," Heather informed him. Nico glared at her, but she didn't back down.
"Driving through Texas is the slowest of all forms of conventional travel here," she continued stubbornly. "It takes over eight hours to reach any border from Austin. We won't reach Fort Stockton anytime soon if we go by car, bus or taxi."
"Well what do you suggest?!" Nico snapped. Heather considered the question a moment before answering.
"We need to take in bite-sized pieces. Hitchhike our way closer and closer. Abilene would be a good place to start. Plus, we don't know anything about what's going on there. Could be dangerous."
Nico didn't respond. Stalking off to the baggage claim, he grabbed his backpack as it came through on its second rotation. Heather took a minute longer, tracking down her pack and marvelling that her weapons had made it through airport security without being confiscated. Then she shouldered her things and chased after her companion, wrestling her way through a thick crowd. Nico was outside, squinting in the Texas sun.
"Are we hitchiking or not?" Heather asked, determined to get a confirmation out of him. Nico didn't look at her, but crossed the road and vanished into the parking garage. After quickly glancing around to be certain that it was safe, Heather followed him.
Nico didn't stop in the garage: after navigating through the concrete tower, he stepped back into the intense afternoon sunlight and onto a large patch of grass. He then crouched down, and rested his palms onto the ground, eyes closed. Heather was about to ask him what he was doing when she felt a chilly aura around the son of Hades.
"If you're doing zombie magic-" Heather started, but before the rest came out, the ground split open and a skeleton clawed its way to the surface. The daughter of Dionysus shrieked and scrambled backwards, hiding behind the wall of the parking garage. Nico watched her go, then rolled his eyes.
"He won't hurt you," he called.
"That's unnatural!" was the shouted reply. "I am not going near that thing!"
"This 'thing' has a name and that name is Jules-Albert. He's my chauffeur."
Heather peeked back out, her eyes narrowed.
"Gift from you dad?" she asked.
"Something like that," Nico replied grudgingly. "He won't hurt you; his job is to drive us wherever I tell him to."
The dark-haired girl looked at the zombie warily, but slowly left her hiding place and came back out onto the grass.
"How is he going to drive us without a car?" she asked. The son of Hades sighed.
"We're going to borrow one."
"What did you mean when you said 'borrow'?" Heather asked as their silver Buick rolled down the freeway. She had made herself at home in the backseat, stretching out as much as she could—though she had made a point to keep her weapons in arms reach at all times; it was clear she trusted Jules-Albert about as far as she could throw him.
"What else could I mean?" Nico replied waspishly.
"There are two connotations for borrowing," the younger demigod replied. "The first is with permission—or payment—and the second is without."
"Does it matter?"
"To me it does."
"Maybe you're familiar with the phrase 'ignorance is bliss'?"
"Okay, okay," Heather surrendered. "I can take a hint. Sheesh!"
They lapsed into an unhappy silence, both glaring out their respective windows. Heather watched the businesses and other cars zip by, wishing for all the world that Jules-Albert were driving them South instead of West. South meant home, right into the heart of central Texas, the live music capital of the world. But her house would be empty now: summer vacation was in full swing and they were out of town as they always were at this time of year. She sank down in her seat, feeling a wave of depression that even the blazing sun could not dissipate.
The road went on forever it seemed, and Heather sat up and poked Nico's shoulder.
"Hey, turn on the radio."
"I prefer silence."
"You asked for it," the dark-haired girl warned, pulling out an ipod and headphones. Plugging in the jack, she scrolled through her playlist and cranked up the volume on one of her favorite songs. When the intro to the song had finished, she began to sing along with the music as loud as her vocal cords allowed.
Nico was very still up in the front seat. After six songs, his hands curled into fists. After another nine, he was trembling all over.
"WILL! YOU! SHUT! UP!" he roared, whirling in his seat to face her. Heather stared at him in shock for several moments before her own temper caught up with her and she sat straight up.
"Well excuse me if I don't have dark and mysterious things to brood about!" she shouted back, ripping off the headphones. "I just want something to occupy me and that something just happens to be music, so get off my case!"
The two demigods glared at one another for a long, strained moment. Then Nico sighed and faced front again.
"Jules-Albert," he mumbled, "take us somewhere to get food."
The zombie didn't acknowledge the order with anything more than a slight nod as he moved them towards an exit. Heather leaned against the window.
"We're getting barbecue," she said stubbornly. "There's a Rudy's right there."
"No," the son of Hades shot back with equal attitude. The car pulled into the parking lot of a Chick-Fil-A and Nico wasted no time in getting out of the car and going inside. Heather took a minute more, pocketing her ipod and grabbing her bag. It wasn't that she wanted to be with her quest partner at the moment, it was just that she didn't want to be alone with Jules-Albert more.
They ordered and ate their food in silence, sitting in one of the booths close to the door. Heather pulled out a napkin and began to write on it, outlining the prophesy she had been given by Rachel only...had it really been two weeks?
"Why do you hate me?" she asked suddenly, looking at the third line she had written.
"What makes you think I hate you?"
Heather shrugged, laying her head down on the table so she could watch the children in the playplace. She wrinkled her nose as a strange smell entered the room and looked up to find the source. Then her jaw dropped.
"Please tell me that the woman who just walked in doesn't look like a demon," she breathed.