I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON RICK RIORDAN DOES! I only have rights to Atlanta and, just Atlanta. The stories are still in Percy's POV.

Chapter fourteen: Atlanta and I Become Known Fugitives

I'd love to tell you I had some deep revelation on my way down, that I came to terms with my own mortality, laughed in the face of death, et cetera.

The truth? My only thought was: Aaaaggghhhhh!

The river raced toward Atlanta, Ermis, and me at the speed of a truck. Wind ripped the breath from my lungs. Steeples and skyscrapers and bridges tumbled in and out of my vision. I held onto Atlanta and Ermis tightly, afraid to let either of them go.

And then: Flaaa-booom!

A whiteout of bubbles. We sunk through the murk, sure that we were about to end up embedded in a hundred feet of mud and lost forever.

But our impact with the water hadn't hurt. We were falling slowly-and I don't think it was Atlanta's doing this time-now, bubbles trickling up, pushing us apart. We settled on the river bottom soundlessly. A catfish the size of our stepfather lurched away into the gloom. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage-beer bottles, old shoes, plastic bags-swirled up all around us.

At that point, I realized a few things: first, we had not been flattened into pancakes. We had not been barbecued. I couldn't even feel the Chimera poison boiling in my veins anymore. We were alive, which was good.

Second realization: I wasn't wet. I mean, I could feel the coolness of the water. I could see where the fire on our clothes had been quenched. But when I touched my own shirt, it felt perfectly dry.

I looked at the garbage floating by and snatched an old lighter.

No way, I thought.

I flicked the lighter. It sparked. A tiny flame appeared, right there at the bottom of the Mississippi.

I grabbed a soggy hamburger wrapper out of the current and immediately the paper turned dry. I lit it with no problem. As soon as I let it go, the flames sputtered out. The wrapper turned back into a slimy rag. Weird.

But the strangest thought occurred to me only last: I was breathing. I was underwater, and I was breathing normally.

I stood up, thigh-deep in mud. My legs felt shaky. My hands trembled. I should've been dead.

I looked at Atlanta and Ermis. Atlanta was holding her hand on her nose, and using her prosthetic arm held on to Ermis' hand. Ermis was also holding his breath, his eyes still tightly closed. I didn't know if his eyes still had power underwater, but I'm glad he didn't test that idea. Their clothes were wet and weighing them down into the mud.

We all should have been dead. The fact that we weren't seemed like…well, a miracle. I imagined a woman's voice, a voice that sounded a bit like our mother: Percy, what do you say?

"Um…thanks." Underwater, I sounded like I did on recordings, like a much older kid. "Thank you Father….is there a way my sister and our friend breath underwater?"

No response. Just the dark drift of the garbage downriver, the enormous catfish gliding by the flash of sunset on the water's surface far above, turning everything the color of butterscotch.

Then I heard two gasps. Atlanta and Ermis begun to cough from holding their breaths for so long. Bubbles had formed around their heads, and I felt relief. "Thank-you Father."

Why had Poseidon saved us? The more I thought about it, the more ashamed I felt. So Atlanta and I had gotten lucky a few time before. Against a thing like the Chimera, we had never stood a chance. Those poor people in the Arch were probably toast. I couldn't protect them. I was no hero, Atlanta, and the others sure. They could do this without me. Maybe I should just stay down here with the catfish, join the bottom feeder.

Fump-fump-fump. A riverboat's paddlewheel churned above us, swirling the silt around.

There, not five feet in front of us, was my sword and Atlanta's trident, their gleaming bronze sticking up in the mud. Hanging off one of the prongs of Atlanta's trident were Ermis's sunglasses.

I heard the woman's voice again: Percy, take the sword. Your father believes in you and your sister. This time, I knew the voice wasn't in my head. I wasn't imagining it. Her words seemed to come from everywhere, rippling through the water like dolphin sonar.

"Where are you?" I called out.

"And who are you?" Atlanta called out.

Then, through the gloom, I saw her-a woman the color of the water, a ghost in the current, floating just above the sword and trident. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes, barely visible, were green like mine.

I was confused. "Mom?"

No, child, only a messenger, your mother is still safe at camp. Go to the beach in Santa Monica.

"What?" Ermis asked.

It is the will of Percy's father. Before you descend into the Underworld, you must go to Santa Monica. Please Percy, I cannot stay ling. The river here is too foul for my presence.

"But…" I know she said our mother was still safe at camp, but she looks so much like her, or a version of her, anyway. "Who-how did you-"

There was so much I wanted to ask, the words jammed up in my throat.

I cannot stay, brave one, the woman said. She reached out and I felt the current brush my face like a caress. You must go to Santa Montic! And Percy, do not trust the gifts…

Her voice faded.

"Gifts?" Atlanta asked. "What gifts? From Poseidon?"

"Wait!" I said.

She made one more attempt to speak, but the sound was gone. Her image melted away. Just like that, it was just Atlanta, Ermis, and me at the bottom of the Mississippi.

I felt like drowning myself. The only problem: I was immune to drowning.

Your father believes in you, she had said.

She'd also called me brave…unless she was talking to the catfish.

I waded toward Riptide and grabbed it by the hilt, then grabbed Ermis' sunglasses, before grabbing Atlanta's trident. The Chimera might still be up there with its snaky, fat mother, waiting to finish us off. At the very least, the mortal police would be arriving, trying to figure out who had blown a hole in the Arch. If they found us, they'd have some questions.

I handed Atlanta and Ermis' things to them, capped my sword, and stuck the ballpoint pen in my pocket. "Thank-you, Father," I said again to the dark water.

Then holding on to Atlanta and Ermis, we kicked up though the muck and swam for the surface.

We came shore next to a floating McDonald's.

A block away, every emergence vehicle in St. Louis was surrounding the Arch. Police helicopters circled overhead. The crowd of onlookers reminded me of Times Square on New Year's Eve.

A little girl said, "Mama! Those big kids walked out of the river!"

"That's nice, dear," her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances.

"But one of them is dry!"

"That's nice, dear."

"Wow, great mom skills there, lady," Ermis murmured.

A news lady was talking fort the camera: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, it very serious. We're trying to get some of the survivors, to question them about eyewitness reports of someone falling from the Arch."

Survivors. I felt a surge of relief. Maybe the park ranger and that family made it out safely. I hoped Annabeth and Grover were okay.

We tried to push through the crowd to see what was going on inside the police line.

"…adolescents boys and girl," another reported was saying. "Channel Five has learned that surveillance camera showed two adolescent boys and girl going wild on the observation desk, somehow setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities…"

We backed away, trying to keep our heads down. Atlanta, Ermis, and I had to go a long way around the police perimeter. Uniformed officers and news reporters were everywhere.

I'd almost lost hope of ever finding Annabeth and Grover when a familiar voice bleated, "Perrr-cy, Atlanta, Ermis!"

I turned and got tackled by Grover's bear hug-or goat hug. He said, "We thought you guys had gone to Hades the hard way!"

Annabeth stood behind him, trying to look angry, but even she seemed relieved to see us, even Ermis. "We can't leave you three alone for five minutes! What happened?

"We sort of fell," Ermis sheepishly shrugged.

"Ermis! Six hundred and thirty feet?"

Behind us, a cop shouted, "Gangway!" The crows parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. I recognized her immediately ad the mother of the little boy who'd been on the observation desk. She was saying, "And then this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua-"

"Okay ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in."

"I'm not crazy~ These two boys and this girl jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she saw Atlanta, Ermis, and me. "There they are! That's them!"

I turned quickly and pulled Annabeth and Grover after me, as Atlanta and Ermis pushed them. We disappeared into the crowd.

"What's going on?" Annabeth demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"

Atlanta told them-leaving the time slowing down-most of the story of the Chimera, Echidna, our high-dive act, and the underwater lady's message.

"Whoa," said Grover. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."

Before Annabeth could respond, we passed another reporter doing a breaking news break, and I almost froze in my tracks when he said, "Percy Jackson and his sister Atlanta Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that one of the boys and the girl who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man and lady wanted by authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the brother and sister are believed to be traveling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy and Atlanta Jackson."
We ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.

"First things first," I told Grover. "We've got to get out of town!"

Somehow, we made it back to the Amtrack station without getting spotted. We got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police light still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind us.