CHAPTER 12 – BANG GOES MY SPARE UNDERWEAR
A/N: SORRY FOR THE VERY LONG ABSENCE AND LACK OF UPDATES! I've been doing tons of homework, coursework, tests, as well as a school production – I've been knackered. And on top of that I've had the double whammy iceberg of writer's block.
This next chapter may feel like a bit of filler, but I hope there'll be some kind of adrenaline surge in it.
"SEAWEED BRAIN!" Thalia shrieked, vaulting the security barriers and pinning me to the floor. "YOU'RE ALIVE!"
"I won't be if you pin me to the ground like that, Pinecone Face," I said weakly. Thalia got up and dusted herself off, careful not to show the scarlet blush of embarrassment trickling across her face. What the hell? I'm using loads of poetry now. Blowfish is an English teacher – perhaps that's why.
"How did you survive?"
"A little help from your dad of all people," I remarked, noticing Thalia's lips murmuring a quick prayer of thanks. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you how."
"Try me."
"Let's just say it broke most of the laws of physics, alright?"
"Wicked," Luke swept towards them, a grin missing several teeth spanning his face. "All in one day in the life of the Great Chosen One, Perseus Jackson." His remaining teeth dripped with liquid sarcasm.
I balled my fists instinctively, but Thalia shot us both quelling looks.
"Percy, don't react. We've got enough holding us back as it is. Luke – just don't push things, okay?"
Was it me, or did that last phrase sound a tiny bit…soft?
"Let's move on, anyway," I said as Eris and Arachne made their way (walking or limping) towards us, the latter looking incredibly discomforted. "Where's Annabeth?"
Thalia glanced at Luke, Eris and Arachne nervously.
"Erm…Percy…we need to talk…"
--
"That creepy snake-thing did what now?" I croaked. "To Annabeth?"
"Weren't you mad at her though?" Luke pointed out. "From your relationship on the plane, I thought you didn't care that much anymore?"
"Is it me or has hanging out with a dead guy in a coffin made you a bit more bitter than you used to be?" I snapped.
"Is it me of has saving the world a few too many times cranked your pint-sized ego up to eleven?"
"Stop it – both of you," Thalia growled, holding both of us at arm's length. I couldn't help but notice her grip on Luke seemed far more relaxed than the near-Spartan chokehold she was holding me in. "We need to find Annabeth – and fast. So let's go."
"Hold on," Grover piped up. He had almost become invisible to our mini-power struggle. "We need to get our bags," he said, pointing up towards a sign saying (what looked like to me) GABEGAG CLAIMER.
"What are Gabegags?" I blurted out, not considering my dyslexia. I flashed back slightly to the time with Smelly Gabe, and how much I had wanted to gag him. The Medusa's head provided a fair enough alternative.
"Baggage, Percy," Grover sighed, swigging espressos like someone diagnosed with clinical depression.
Wait – poor taste.
--
We stared, glum-faced as the weather outside (I know the British have something about April showers, but I was thinking more of the bathroom kind), as the luggage arrived for the twenty-bajillionth time on the conveyor belt. None of it was ours.
Nobody dared raise his or her voice. We were all unnaturally silent. Grover had given up on the packaging of the in-flight meal. Arachne had given up on moaning about how internal cushioning was a blessing for artificial legs. Eris had given up on causing spite by pinching a kissing couple nearby and evanescing quickly.
I really need to stop being a poet – damn you and your inter-continental word power, Blowfish.
And even Luke had nothing bitchy to say about me, so consequently I laid off him for a while. How could anybody be sure of the fact that he was good now? Thalia and Annabeth seemed convinced, but even to me and my imperceptiveness (not again) they were practically in love with him.
But Grover seemed to believe him as well – and Grover being in love with Luke was a disturbing idea, at least to me.
"Those are our bags, correct?" Arachne finally said, as a pile of familiar suitcases neared us on the conveyor belt. Grover frowned.
"Percy – what did you pack?"
"Spare clothes – shield – spare underwear – why?"
"Is there a reason any of that's vibrating?"
"Grover, I know you've never been good at innuendo but…"
"Percy," Thalia faltered, "your bag looks like it's ready to go into orbit."
Finally, I glanced across towards my suitcase, which seemed to be rattling – quaking even. It bounced up and down, shook itself, juddered everywhere, nearly fell off – at one point I could swear it was doing the Hand Jive.
"What is it?" I murmured to Grover, since Annabeth wasn't here for urgent Greek mythology consulting.
"It's too far off to see, but it's getting closer."
"Then we run," I whispered, as the suitcase began to do the Macarena.
"Don't make any sudden movements," Grover said through clenched teeth. "It's serpentinia tentacula – a kind of plant. Somebody must have put seeds in your suitcase before we left, Percy. People put them in luggage to kill their enemies – pockets, satchels, travelling bags, handbags…"
My mind was engulfed (I won't bother now) with a mental image of a handbag throwing a hissy fit in the middle of Manhattan. Bad image.
"But they're just seeds. They can't grow."
"You'd be surprised – a little bit of heat can make them engulf an entire building. Add a little moisture – boom!"
"That'd be my spare underwear then," I muttered.
"Just make no sudden movements. If you do, they'll just grab you even quicker."
"Thanks for the consolation, Goat Boy," Thalia snapped. "It's die or die anyway. EAT RIPTIDE, WEED!"
Before I could even blink, Thalia had grabbed Anaklusmos from my pocket and hurled it with deadly accuracy at the suitcase. The lid detached in mid-air, and it grew into a sword, before impaling itself in the luggage.
This just made whatever was inside the luggage even angrier. It unlocked and huge tentacle-like vines sprang out, flailing and shooting out towards us. The mortals all around seemed unaware that anything was happening. Killer weeds came with added Mist, it seemed. I know the free gifts are the ones that nobody wants, but this was just stupid.
I went to draw my sword, before realising that Thalia had just used it as a long-range poking stick. Fortunately, the creature threw it back in pen form towards me, which I caught on the spur of the moment.
I would have said thanks but then I remembered this monster was sent to kill me, which more than compromised.
We backed against a wall, and readied ourselves for the weed to give us a fatal Bear Hug, but it never came.
The conveyor belt turned sharply and the weed-filled suitcase went with it, heading out to go around a never-ending cycle of conveyor belt. Along with my spare underwear – on second thoughts, I'll just quit mentioning the spare underwear.
A/N: FINALLY, HE RETURNS!
Yes, I know it's been long, but this idea came to me and I decided to carry on with this story. I owe it to all the brilliant reviews I've been getting. Remember folks, READ AND REVIEW – CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM IS ENTIRELY WELCOME! 3074 hits at the time of writing this - what a number.
It's time I acknowledged a few of my reviewers:
VEROP – Enough said. Hands 3 pies
HOGWARTSGIRL52 – What can I say? My very first reviewer – and with me throughout Hands 3 cookies
PS – I'm offering my services as a beta reader. Check out the profile for more info.
ANYWAY – NEXT TIME ON THE CHAOS CODE:
CHAPTER 13 – THE MOST PERSISTENT GIRL EVER
Percy and co meet up with an old friend. Start hedging your bets as to whom!
SEE YOU NEXT TIME!