Chapter five
Percy P.O.V
Two blank faced guards took me out of the cafeteria, taking a sharp right. I'd never been that way before, but it was the same as any other direction only with more hallway and turns and an elevator. It was white, like everything else in the facility. Four buttons were labeled A, B, C, and Y. One guard hit Y then retook his grip on my forearm. Gods forbid I escape from that four by four elevator, I thought sadistically.
The doors opened to reveal the Y level, which was one corridor with ten doors on both sides dotted with square windows. Beside each door a small light in metal brackets glowed either red or green, and only one of the doors, the third one on the left, was basking in red light, while the other nine had green lights plastered to the wall. I was led to the first cell. The blond guard let go of me again, intending to unlock the cell. The ginger guard held fast to my left arm, and I stupidly grinned at him. He seemed unnerved by my change in demeanor, staring at me strangely.
"Guess what."
Ginger glared at me and stayed tight lipped, overcoming his questioning glance.
"I'm right handed."
Understanding dawned in his eyes, but I had already swung my fist into his stomach, followed by a hooked strike up under his chin. Ginger crumpled before Blondey had even turned around. I punched him with my right, but he blocked with both arms upraised. I kicked the side his knee, dislocating it, and drove my own knee into his face when he had fallen to the ground. I fumbled for his keys on the ground and rushed to unlock Clarisse's door, still unaware of what Lyra was doing upstairs. Clarisse half smiled when she saw me standing in the doorway.
"I have a signal for you."
She laughed and punched my shoulder, and together we rushed back to the elevator and smashed the C button in. It was kind of awkward. Stuck in an elevator while making a great escape from a government run prison, reminding me of the time we were defending Olympus from Kronos's army while listening to "Stayin' Alive." When the elevators opened, I stepped out, but Clarisse didn't move.
"Come on, we gotta go."
She shook her head. "I've got to get the other kids out of the other floors. I'll get B, you get A."
I bit my lip and looked behind me. We didn't have time to stop and chat. "Okay, meet at Camp," I conceded. I turned away then back as a last thought. "And don't get caught, Bacon head."
She cracked a smile. "Same with you, Newby."
I turned and ran down the halls, passing unconscious guards and frenzied teenagers. Kids were running around, still attacking guards that were conscious and a threat. Many were kneeling with their hands behind their heads, one guard was banging on the window of a locked room, while the majority were unconscious on the floor. I noted with amusement there were two locked in Lyra's room. I grabbed Travis's arm as he ran by. "Trav, where's Lyra?"
"Don't know. She started bashing guards after you went down for Clarisse."
"Okay. I have to find her. You get all the kids out, there's an elevator down that hallway. Here take the keys," I shoved the guard's keys into his hand. "Clarisse is on level B. Find a way out and meet at camp." He made to say something, but I yelled, "Go!"
He slapped my shoulder and started yelling commands to the kids in the hall. They listened and immediately reversed course. Gladly, they followed a camp leader's orders and began to orderly mob the elevator doors. I shoved and forced my way through the crowd, only briefly stopping in my room for Riptide. The slick casing always calmed my battle nerves, and that night was no exception.
Lyra! I called with my mind, but she didn't answer. I chose random paths to follow. I had no idea what way she would have gone, or if she went that way at all. Although, I discovered my idea of random brought me straight to the doctors' rooms. Deciding a slight detour was necessary, I chose to collect some files and burn the rest.
The door, when I got there, was slightly ajar, and Doctor Calder was there, frantically shoving files into a backpack.
"Ehh, what's up, Doc?"
She flipped around, holding a taser out in front of her, her hair wildly escaping her bun.
"Percy," she said, "what are you doing? You can't seriously think you're going to get away with this?" She tried to hide the fear in her voice.
"We are leaving. You will never have demigods to experiment on—ever—again." I nodded to the backpack she was failing to hide behind her back. "What's in the backpack? Files? Files on this place and the people you kept in here?"
She shook her head repeatedly.
"No. No, it's—no. Please, you don't want to do this."
"I told you the first day I met you. I am going to burn this place to the ground. But you don't have to be part of it. Come with me and help me bring it down."
She shook her head but more slowly. She glanced at her feet then nodded once.
"The man who started it. His name's Marius B—" The doctor's head flew back. A single shot fired into her head. No mistake in hesitating this time, I drew Riptide but also stepped away from the door and grasping a stool. Jones lowered his gun. I knew it was Jones because I had perfected my judgement of them. Jones was slightly shorter and fatter than Smith.
"Poor Doctor. She should have known her loyalties." He purred in his unchanging voice. He came forward, and I raised my sword. He grinned maliciously and pushed the blade away, striking rapidly with his unarmed fist. But my two thoughts were faster than his one strike. One: he touched the blade. And two: swing.
Jones had underestimated me. He underestimated my speed. He underestimate my strength. And he underestimated how much hatred I held for him and his associates. He didn't believe I would kill him, but he wasn't human anymore. He was more monster than human, and celestial bronze could harm him.
I didn't give him one more glance than I had to. I confirmed he was dead and snatched Calder's pack with the files that were half scattered on the floor. A fat file with a black strip was piled in it along with a few medical test records. I grabbed my file, Lyra's—mostly out of curiosity—and a few others that I could, and I destroyed the rest. I found every chemical I could and poured them on the papers and watched as the papers shriveled up into unreadable mush. I left Dr. Calder's office for the last time and ran down a corresponding hallway.
Turning the corner, I saw three figures fighting at the end of the hallway. A slight girl with long coppery brown hair skillfully fought two guards, deflecting every strike. The first guard charged, taser extended. Lyra did not hesitate and caught the arm, twisting it and forcing him to drop the lightning box. She attacked with quick jabs to his arm, and he seemed unable to move it. She twirled and clipped the second guy on the shoulder.
She brutally out skilled them with her strength and speed. The man, whose arm was no longer functioning, collapsed on a dislocated knee and crashed violently into the wall. The last standing guard held his gun out although it was shaking uncontrollably. Knocking away but holding onto the gun hand, her elbow connected with the guard's nose, and Lyra twisted the arm and went back to back, grabbing the other elbow crook and flipping him to the floor. The gun was outstretched in Lyra's hand. She pistol whipped his temple, the guard crumpling into unconsciousness.
I stood dumbstruck, unsure if the scene was true. The demigod turned, suddenly aware of my presence.
"Come on, Jackson!" She called impatiently. She ran down the hallway and chose seemingly random pathways, but her hunches were right and brought us to an elevator. An orderly was slamming the elevator buttons repeatedly and wildly. He faced us, his face contorted with fear. Lyra held the gun at him, and I ran at him and struck him forcefully. The doors opened.
"Seems like the fates like us," I mumbled. "Finally."
I pressed the button labeled A, hoping it meant A floor. Clarisse better get the B level out. I was breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I heard a click beside me. Lyra was cocking the gun, dropping the clip and checking it, then resetting it.
"Little talents?" I rounded on her furiously. "Since when is beating men twice your size senseless a little talent?"
Instead of answering me, Lyra shoved me against the elevator wall and pressed herself against the opposite just as the elevator doors binged open.
As soon as the doors were fully open, automatic guns fired. Bullet holes tore at the once untarnished wall. The firing died down to a minimum, though some shots were still fired.
"What do we do?" I yelled. More firing ensued. In answer Lyra looked over the edge, barely letting half her face out in the open.
She turned her face away, covering it with her arm. Rapidly, she fired without looking. Four shots and the enemy fire immediately ceased. That's not possible. I had to confirm my suspicions. Glancing around the elevator, the four men who had been so recently trying to kill us were lying on the ground. Their blank eyes staring with disbelief.
"They're—" I cleared my throat. "They're dead."
Lyra scowled at me, puzzled slightly. "You've fought in a war. You've obviously seen a dead body before."
"But I avoided killing when I could! I didn't want to kill them!"
Her eyes blazed furiously. "They abducted you! Us! They took us from our homes, and you want to save them?"
"No, I—"
"I heard you. You swore you'd burn them to the ground!" She turned away and ran to the nearest electrical pad. She covered her eyes and smashed it with the gun butt. The wires short circuited and spurt sparks, but it had the desired effect. All cell doors on level A opened, and the prisoners streamed out.
"Find all the kids you can! Find a door and run!" Lyra screamed. The demigods poured down the hallway. The ones who had training led and trailed after the nescient children. I pushed through the crowd and grabbed Lyra's arm, pulling her after me. Through halls and doors and much bashing of guards, doors, and electrical panels, we found the stairs to the surface. We broke out into the world, fresh air crashing into us like a tsunami.
It was pitch black, night. There was a stinging chill to the air, and my breath made a soft cloud when I breathed. The stars and moon were so clear they looked painted in the sky. The ground was a hard golden dirt. Lyra and I stood on the roof of an expansive one story factory building that spread over a mile of land and was surrounded by metal fence and barbed wire.
"It's been sixteen days since I saw the sky." I whispered in wonder. Lyra stood beside me, eyes glued to the sky, breathing in and out.
"Three weeks." She sighed contentedly.
But we needed to keep moving, a few straggling demigods stumbling out behind us. The facility's reinforcements were already arriving in military jeeps, flood lights barred to the vehicles' roofs. Campers swarmed the nearest jeep and easily took out the soldiers, taking their places behind the wheel. The kid who sat in driver's seat obviously hadn't gotten his license yet. The guy drove in circles a few times,swerving maniacally, the drove straight at the barbed fence. Before impact, two bodies rolled out, and the jeep struck the fence. It was good that the guys jumped out because the fence was high powered electric. Electricity arced around the vehicle, scoring the metal sides and striking anyone in the vicinity. I grabbed Lyra's hand and dove down the metal ladder, running the moment my feet touched the compacted dirt. the fence now deactivated, Lyra, myself, and many other demigods scaled the destructed jeep and dove out of captivity.
"You know where to go! Stay in small groups and stick together!" I yelled as our group separated in the desert-like land. Lyra and I followed the road, a badly paved road, which seemed to stretch for miles. We didn't slow down for what seemed like hours, just kept running with renewed vigor whenever one of us began to slow down. Lyra began to fall behind me gradually, but she pushed to keep going. The farther we went down the road, the more common trees became. More and more trees appeared until we were running in the middle of a forest.
Like the day I was taken, I felt a tingling sensation on my neck. The only difference this time was that I listened. I grabbed Lyra's hand and dove into the cover of the trees. Just as soon as we were hidden from the view of the road, flood lights burned into the night. Military jeeps stormed past, spotlights catching every discrepancy. Lyra was wheezing badly, a few whimpers escaping from her gasping mouth. As unlikely as it was with the noise of the jeeps, I covered her mouth with my hand, sliding to the ground for more cover.
Minutes later, the jeeps moved on with their quest as they hadn't found anyone. We stayed their for a few minutes, making sure they wouldn't turn back and see us.
"You okay?" I asked. Lyra nodded, but I saw how hard she was clenching her fists. "What's wrong?"
"Pavement not good for such tender feet as mine," she whispered. In the moonlight, I saw speckles of red coloring her feet. "I can take it. I'd rather be bleeding out here than be stuck in there." She bounded up from the ground, pulling me behind here. "Come on. I'm curious as to how long this forest is."
We walked until the moon was right above the horizon, no longer able to be seen from the forest floor. By my best judgment, we had covered over fifteen miles. Lyra and I had refused to stop and rest. We needed to get as much ground between us and the underground facility as humanly possible. We stumbled to the edge of the woods, coming onto a desert with a highway town. It was so small and quaint, it only consisted of gas station, a bar, some open pagodas. Some kids were playing soccer in the streets and others were looking in awe at a big fancy car that was currently getting gas. It was a hummer. Lyra had her gaze fixed on the man in an expensive black suit. He was yelling angrily into his cell phone then hung it up and went to yell at his chauffeur who "was taking to long to pump the gas."
"He's not one of them. Just some rich bastard." She got up and rubbed more dirt on her white clothes.
"What are you doing?"
"I need to blend in. Two kids dressed in white prison uniforms? Also we need to get information. Come on." She jumped over the bushes and trotted to about ten feet from the man. She angled herself so that she had to pass him to get to the town. I watched with amusement as she walked past the guy and barely brushed him, lifting his wallet and phone from his pocket. I met her at the first building into town.
"Where d'you learn how to pick pocket?"
"Spring break. I was bored." She opened the wallet and took the money in it, snagging his license as well but not the credit cards.
"We could use the credit card."
"Can you forge a signature?"
"Well, no." I took the ID. "I can't pull off being Mathew Timothy Ricton either."
"You never know. Maybe you'll get more grey hair during your stint of being a fugitive."
"Ha ha ha. Maybe we should try blending with the populous before our friend realizes his wallets missing?"
She stared at Mathew Ricton, a clouded look in her eyes.
"He probably won't until he checks into a hotel. His chauffeur pays for the gas."
I laughed and shook my head. It reminded me a bit of Rachel's father, Mr. Dare. Thinking of my friend back home brought back the threat looming over us.
"Come on, lets find out where we are." I walked though the street, catching one of the kids by his sleeve. "What town is this?" The kid stared at me with wide eyes.
"No hablo a Inglés, Señor Loco."
Lyra laughed behind me. I smiled at the kid and stepped back a step.
"Did he just call me crazy? I took Spanish for a few years, but all I got was Mr. Crazy."
"You took it for a few years and that's all you could understand?" She asked incredulously. I nodded sheepishly, and Lyra sighed. She knelt in front of the boy so that they were close to the same height.
"¿Cómo te llamas?"
"Miguel."
"Yo me llamo Lyra y éste es Percy. ¿Cómo se llamo éste pueblo, y a cuánto está de la frontera?"
"Nubestelar y ciento trece kilómetros pero tenéis que pasar por El Paso primero.
pero hay que pasar por El Paso."
"Gracias, Miguel." She pat his shoulder and stood up. The boy, Miguel, darted away as fast as he could. "We're in a town called Nubestelar. It's about a hundred thirteen kilometers from the border-that's seventy miles give or take. We have to go through El Paso."
"You speak Spanish?"
Lyra looked down at me. "It's a thing with my wander. It's like a portable Rosetta Stone."
"Really?"
She laughed at me and started walking down the street again. "No. My dad lived in Spain for like half his life so he taught me."
"So you read minds, are an unbelievable fighter, and speak Spanish. Am I forgetting anything?"
"I'm also adorable." She smiled and tried to look as innocent as possible.
"I feel like you know more about me than I do about you."
"That's probably true." She didn't elaborate or offer anymore information. We walked silently past a few houses, keeping a watchful eye on any one that looked at us twice.
"So I don't fancy walking forty miles, do you?" I ventured after passing a few empty vehicles.
Lyra shook her head in agreement.
"How about working that silver mind of yours and finding us a ride?"
She nodded and started intently watching anyone with a car. A few minutes of searching and Lyra tugged on my shirt. I followed her gaze and saw a middle aged man with a dusty but relatively new pick up truck. The guy was ordinary looking, paint covering his sweatshirt. Something about him reminded me of a cartoon character, except he was average weight and was actively working.
"Homer Simpson," I stated. If he had a Duff beer in his hand, he could've been Homer Simpson.
"Excuse me, sir!" Lyra called. The man looked up and shook his head.
"No English."
"Perdón, ¿puede llevarnos a mi amigo y a mi?"
The man looked at Lyra then at me. "¿Adónde?"
"El Paso."
The man scratched his stubble and wiped sweat off his face. "Yo también voy hacia allá. Os llevaré por doscientos persos."
"¿Doscientos?" Lyra sounded outraged. I could only pick out a few words. They seemed to be talking fast just to confuse me. Ms. Scott never explained the speed at which they talk, I grumped to myself. Lyra spoke rapidly and intensely. The guy argued and put his hands on his hips. Both waving their hands around like mad.
"Tengo sólo cinco dólares." Lyra offered.
"No, doscientos pesos. Y por adelantado."
"No, yo pagaré al llegar. Nos llevas a El Paso, y te llevas diez dólares"
"La mitad ahora. Lo demás al llegar." The man was persistent, punctuating each word with his hands.
Lyra ran a hand through her hair. She glanced down at herself then at me. "Un tercio ahora. Lo demas al llegar. Súbelo a quince, y nos consigues algo de ropa." The man narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. "Dólares americanos. No pesos." Whatever she said convinced him.
"Serán quince por el viaje."
"¡Vale! Sólo llévanos ahi." She stalked away from the man and puffed at me. á, é, í, ó, ú, ü, ñ, ¿, ¡
"So what's happening?"
"He's giving us a ride for fifteen dollars, which is a lot of pesos. But we also don't have a lot of our own money. We have to find clothes somewhere else though. How about I give you the money for clothes and I watch him?" She looked at our driver with pure disgust.
"Meet you at the bar up there? He doesn't seem to be going anywhere soon." I took fifteen dollars from the wallet and jogged down to the open market.
The locals knew I knew nothing of bargaining. They kept saying special prices but seemed to be going higher. They also followed me and would not leave me alone! I had found an outdoor market with lots of clothing and food and traditional items.
"English?" I kept saying but the vendor just waved at me and said, "special price?" She stuffed a ring made out of stones and wood in my face. "For special friend?" She cackled and closed my hand around it. I held my breath, holding back my frustration.
"How much for two pairs of clothes?"
"Y the ring?"
"Fine! Yes, and the ring." The woman clicked her tongue and grabbed a tan t-shirt with a phoenix and brown trousers. "And something for a girl. My age."
"Sí, sí, sí. Uno momento." She thumbed through hangers that hung from the rafters in the ceiling. When she found something satisfying she pulled out a dress. It had many layers of purple and dark coppery brown, with one bellbottom sleeve and one sleeveless side.
"How much for all three and two pairs of shoes?"
"Hundred pesos." Crap. Pesos.
"I'll give you—um—" I dug out my money. "Ten dollars?"
"Americanos?"
"Sí."
I held out my hand, and the woman grabbed it and counted it. She nodded then shuffled through more junk on the ground. She threw me four boots, black, kinda like combat boots. I tried mine on and was surprised that they fit. "Hope they fit Lyra." I thanked the lady and jogged back to the bar where Lyra was waiting. She took the clothes without a word and slipped into the bathroom.
When she came out, she looked like a normal teen, not some prisoner. Her copper hair held back in what seemed like thousands of tiny braids and twirls. I slipped into the bathroom next and changed, thankful that I had pockets to put Riptide in. When I emerged, the false Homer Simpson was waiting impatiently by his truck. Lyra gracefully hopped into the back and dropped money into the man's waiting hand. I followed and sat down, my side next to the window in the cab.
"I'll stay awake if you want to sleep?" I told Lyra. She nodded and rolled the white clothes under her head. She seemed to fall asleep in seconds.
A shout out to Galahadindor for the correct Spanish translation-Thanks again!
I had to copy and paste all of the accents so if I missed one or put it on the wrong syllable, I apologize
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