Hello there, gods, half-bloods and friends. Welcome to the second chapter The God Hunter.
Hope you'll enjoy it and now on to the reviews.
Lucius Walker: Glad it caught your attention.
Necros The Saiyan knight: That would be pretty cool, but I hope I can surprise you.
Now story time.
When Matt woke up, there was nothing weird about his surroundings. A blanket over his legs, a pillow behind his neck, he was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries.
On the table next to him was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry.
"Your up soon."
It was the blonde girl he had seen just before he had passed out. She was wearing a bright orange T-shirt that said 'Camp Half-Blood'. As she was leaning against the porch railing she looked Matt over critically.
"Yeah, I guess." Matt said, stretching his arms, "How long was I out?"
"A night at most." the girl said, "How much do you remember?"
"The RV was racing down the road, I was attack by a giant snake demon thing. And my dad..." Matt said, suddenly his eyes went wide, "Where is my dad? What happened to my father!?"
"He is..." the girl said, "Whoa take it easy!"
But Matt was already on his bare feet, "To hell with taking it easy." he said, "It's my dad we're talking about!"
"Alright. Come on." the girl said holding up her hands, "Chiron and Mr. D told me to get you once you awoke. They can answer your questions."
"They better." Matt said as he followed the girl.
"I'm Annabeth Chase, by the way." the girl introduced herself.
"Matt Hauer." he said, putting his hands in his pockets.
The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse. As they came around the opposite end of the house, Matt caught his breath.
They must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the water, which glittered about a mile in the distance. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture. An open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun.
In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Annabeth's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and, unless Matt had hit his head a bit harder, some of their horses had wings.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table.
The man facing him was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt.
"That's Mr. D." Annabeth said, "He's the camp director. Be polite."
"I'm always polite." Matt said with a side glance.
"And that is Chiron..."
She pointed at the guy whose back was to Matt, who was sitting in the wheelchair. He was wearing a tweed jacket, thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard. The man turned and smiled at him. His eyes had that mischievous glint to them.
"Ah, good to see you Matt." he said, "Now we have four for pinochle."
He offered a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at Matt with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."
"Right." Matt said taking a seat as he looked at the director, "So Mr. D... does that stand for something?"
Mr. D stopped shuffling the cards. He looked at Matt like he'd just belched loudly, "Young man, names are powerful things. You don't just go around using them for no reason."
"Okay then." Matt said.
"I must say, Matt." Chiron broke in, "I'm glad to see you alive."
"About being alive." he said cutting to the chase, "Where is my dad?"
"He is save, completely unharmed, after he was sure you were save, he went home. He couldn't stay here." Chiron said, "Although his RV is still here."
"Good..." Matt said relieved, feeling a heavy weight fall off his shoulders, "That's good."
"Annabeth." Mr. D said impatiently, "Are you playing or not?"
"Yes, sir." Annabeth said as she took the fourth chair.
"You do know how to play pinochle?" Mr. D said, eying Matt suspiciously.
"I've played a few games of pinochle, I believe." he said, scratching the side of his head, "Though I prefer gwent, sir."
"...We don't mention that game..." the camp director said as he dealt the cards, "But at least this one has manners."
"What is this place?" Matt said as he looked around, "What am I doing here?"
"Matt." he said, "Did your father tell you nothing?"
"Something about a summer camp for kids like me." Matt said, feeling as if that conversation happened to long ago, "Something about having to say goodbye once I was send here."
"Typical. That's how they usually get killed." Mr. D said, "Young man, are you bidding or not?"
"I'm afraid there's too much to tell." Chiron said, "I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient."
"Orientation film?" Matt said.
"Well, Matt. You have killed a giant snake. No small feat, you should know." Chiron said, "What you may not know is that great powers are at work in your life. Gods, the forces you call the Greek gods, are very much alive."
"Hold on." Matt said raising his hands, "You're telling me God is real?"
"Well, now. God as in capital G, God. That is a big thing." Chiron said, "But gods, as in, great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."
"So you mean Zeus, Hera, Hades." Matt said, "You mean them?"
And there it was again, a distant thunder on a cloudless day.
"The heck is happening out there?" Matt muttered looking over his shoulder to the sky.
"Young man, if I were you." Mr. D said, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around."
"But your not me, sir." Matt said, "So your saying the myths, the stories to explain lightning and the seasons. Those are real?"
"Very much." Chiron said, "You may choose to believe or not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"
"Have you seen the last few hundred years?" Matt said with a cheeky grin, "Sounds like fun."
Mr. D grumbled as he played a card, he waved his hand and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, momentarily, and woven the air into glass. The goblet filled itself with red wine.
Matt let out a low whistle, but Chiron hardly looked up.
"Mr. D." he warned, "Your restrictions."
Mr. D looked at the wine and feigned surprise, "Dear me." He looked at the sky and yelled, "Old habits! Sorry!"
More thunder as Mr. D waved his hand again, and the wineglass changed into a fresh can of Diet Coke. He sighed unhappily, popped the top of the soda, and went back to his card game.
Chiron winked at Matt. "Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."
"Father loves to punish me." Mr. D said, "The first time, Prohibition. Ghastly! Absolutely horrid ten years! The second time... well, she really was pretty, and I couldn't stay away. The second time, he sent me here. Half-Blood Hill. Summer camp for brats like you. 'Be a better influence,' he told me. 'Work with youths rather than tearing them down.' Ha.' Absolutely unfair."
Mr. D sounded about six years old, like a pouting little child. During his rant, Matt ran through D names from Greek mythology. Wine. The skin of a tiger. The satyrs that all seemed to work here.
"You're Dionysus, the god of wine." Matt said, "Then your father must be Zeus."
"Look at you. Actually having more than a single brain cell." Mr. D said gesturing dismissively at him before he turned back to his card game, "I believe I win."
"Oh, I don't think so." Matt said, he set down a straight, tallied the points, "I win."
For a moment, it looked like Mr. D was going to vaporize Matt, but he just sighed through his nose, as if he were used to being beaten.
"I'm tired. I believe I'll take a nap before the sing-along tonight." Mr. D said as he got up, turning to Matt, "Cabin eleven, Matt Hauer. And mind your manners." he swept into the farmhouse.
"Annabeth, please go ahead." Chiron said. The blonde gave him a nod before going ahead, leaving Matt alone with the wheelchair bound man.
"What's his problem?" Matt said, hands in his pockets.
"Old Dionysus just... Hates his job." Chiron said, "He's been... ah, grounded, I guess you would say, and he can't stand waiting another century before he's allowed to go back to Olympus."
"Mount Olympus." Matt repeated softly, "You're telling me there really is a palace there?"
"Well now, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. And then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of their powers, which did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It's still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, Matt, just as the gods do."
"You mean the Greek gods are here?" Matt said perplexed, "In the United States of America?"
"Well, certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."
"The what now?"
"Come now, Matt. What you call 'Western civilization.' Do you think it's just an abstract concept? No, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at least, they are tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, not unless all of Western civilization were obliterated."
"Who are you, Chiron?" Matt said, "More importantly, who am I?"
Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he were going to get up out of his wheelchair.
"Who are you?" he mused, "Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate."
And then he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. His blanket fell away from his legs, but the legs didn't move. His waist kept getting longer, rising above his belt.
He kept rising out of the chair, taller than any man, with the front of an animal, muscle and sinew under coarse white fur. And the wheelchair wasn't a chair. It was some kind of container, an enormous box on wheels, and it must've been magic, because there's no way it could've held all of him.
Matt stared at the horse who had just sprung from the wheelchair: a huge white stallion. But where its neck should be was the upper body of my Latin teacher, smoothly grafted to the horse's trunk.
"What a relief." the centaur said, "I'd been cooped up in there so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Matt Hauer. Let's meet the other campers."
They passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. Another said, "That's him."
"Come along, Matt." Chiron said, "Lots to see."
They walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe. Chiron told the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses." he explained, "And the strawberries take almost no effort."
He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.
Matt watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire.
"Mr. Chiron, if the gods and Olympus and all that are real." Matt said hands in his pockets, "Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"
Chiron's expression darkened, "Yes, child." he said, "There are places where spirits go after death."
As they got closer to the forest, Matt realized how huge it was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, he could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.
Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed. When capture the flag is played Friday night, you'll see. Do you have your own sword and shield?"
"No." Matt said, "I shot white fire out of my fingers, not sure how I did, but I can do that." as he wiggled his fingers.
"White fire? Interesting." Chiron said, "I should have guessed you don't have weapons. I think a size six will do. I'll visit the armory later."
As the tour continued, Matt saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables which Chiron didn't seem to like very much, the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.
"Cabin challenges and all that." he explained, "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."
Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.
"...What kind of camp did I got myself into?" Matt muttered to himself.
Finally, he showed the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door, odds on the left side, evens on the right, they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory.
Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops.
In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered.
A few feet away was the crashed RV. Matt was wondering how it even got so far as he had no explenation for it.
The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them.
Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.
"Zeus and Hera?" Matt said.
"Correct." Chiron said, "Several of the cabins are empty. No one ever stays in one or two."
Cabin three wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.
Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.
"Come." Chiron said, "Annabeth is waiting for us."
Matt looked over to the last cabin on the left, number eleven, where indeed Annabeth was sitting, reading a book.
"Annabeth, I have masters' archery class at noon." Chiron said, "Would you take Matt from here?"
"Yes, sir."
"Cabin eleven." Chiron told Matt, gesturing toward the doorway, "Make yourself at home."
Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it.
Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.
Matt noticed that a lot of the campers had similar features: sharp noses, upturned eyebrows, mischievous smiles. They were the kind of kids that teachers would peg as troublemakers.
Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.
"Well, then." Chiron said, "Good luck, Matt. I'll see you at dinner." he galloped away toward the archery range.
Matt stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore, they were staring at him, sizing him up. "Hi." Matt said with a wave.
Annabeth announced, "Matt Hauer, meet cabin eleven."
"Regular or undetermined?" somebody asked.
Matt didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."
Everybody groaned.
A guy who was a little older than the rest came forward. "Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Matt."
The guy was about nineteen, and he looked pretty cool. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals, and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.
"This is Luke." Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow.
Matt glanced at her and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw him looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."
"For now?" Matt said.
"You're undetermined." Luke explained patiently, "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there."
Matt looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given. "I'm not sleeping there." he said at once before he promptly turned around and walking out the door.
"What?" he heard Luke said.
"Hold on." Annabeth said as she followed after him, "You can't just decide to not..."
"Yes, I can." Matt said as he walked in the direction of the RV.
"So you think your too good for tradition?" Annabeth said.
"If it's a stupid tradition that results in me sleeping on the floor." Matt said with a nod, "Yes, I do."
She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one."
"Oh, you thought I was the one?" Matt said with a smirk as he turned around but continued to walk backwards, "Annabeth, buy me dinner first."
"Not like that!" Annabeth said annoyed though a heat was rising up to her face, "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"
"To sleep on the floor?" he said.
"No! To fight a giant snake?" she said, "What do you think we train for?"
"Fighting monsters?" Matt said.
"Yes." she said, "But monsters don't die, Matt. They can be killed, but they don't die. They don't have souls."
"Monster's are gingers?" Matt said just as he arrived outside the RV, "So why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway?"
"You don't just choose a cabin, Matt." Annabeth said, "It depends on who your parents are. Or... your parent."
"Birth parents?" Matt said as this peaked his interest, "Do you have any idea who my parents are?"
"No." she said, "Who are they?"
"I was asking you, because I have no idea." he said throwing ups his hands, "But my dad is Jack Hauer."
Annabeth sighed. Clearly, she'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Figures. But you have to be one of us, you couldn't have survived the snake, much less the ambrosia and nectar."
"The what and the who now?" he said.
"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better." she said, "That stuff would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you'd be dead."
"...Well that's nice." he said dryly, "So what am I?"
"You're a half-blood, Matt."
But before they could talk more, yells reached them over the field.
One of the big girls from the ugly red cabin, she had three other girls behind her, all big and ugly and mean looking like her, all wearing camo jackets. They seemed to have a kid, one of the new ones, had him by the neck and was dragging him toward a cinder-block building that Matt thought must be the bathroom. The boy was kicking and punching.
"Clarisse." Annabeth sighed, "Daughter of Ares."
"The war god?" Matt said.
"Yes." she said, "She always..."
"Hold that thought." Matt said holding up his index finger, that burning feeling in the pit of his stomach as he went into the direction of the bathroom, he had enough experience back in school to know what people like Clarisse would do to new kids.
Matt followed them into the girls' bathroom. There was a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other, it smelled just like any public bathroom. Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and the kid was still struggling.
"Like he's 'Big Three' material." Clarisse said as she pushed him toward one of the toilets, "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking."
Her friends snickered.
"Oi." Matt said, getting their attention, "Very brave, three against one."
"Well, well. Another new runt." Clarisse said, throwing the kid towards one of her friends, "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies."
"I bet you do." Matt said, stepping up, "Let the kid go."
"Ah, how cute." Clarisse taunted, "We got a runt thinking he's a hero."
"Not a hero." Matt told her, staring her down, "Just someone who doesn't like bullies. Someone who doesn't care where they're from. Last chance, let the kid go or I'll make you let him go."
Clarisse took a swing at him but to her surprise, Matt caught the fist in mid swing. He gave her a cocky smirk, but was rewarded for his arrogance by a knee to the stomach. He doubled over before he was knocked to the floor, where he felt Clarisse boot meeting the rest of his body.
From all the fights he had been in, none of the bullies from his school could ever punch or kick as hard as a child of Ares.
As the boot came down again, Matt caught it with his hands and kicked the other leg, making the girl fall to the floor. He got back to his feet, nursing his ribcage as a fuming Clarisse got back to her feet. If looks could kill Matt would be six feet under.
"That all you got?" Matt taunted, extending his arms.
Clarisse growled before she charged at him, but in her anger her punches had become sloppy giving Matt the opportunity to evade them. Throwing a punch of his own, it was caught. Clarisse gripped it hard as she raised her other fist.
Matt caught her other fist and they struggled for a bit before he heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder.
He then slammed his head on the bridge of Clarisse's nose, knocking her back. As water shot out of the toilet, hitting Clarisse and her friends where blasted by the water so hard it pushed them down. The water stayed on them like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backward into a shower stall.
They struggled, gasping. But then the other toilets exploded, too, and six more streams of toilet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.
As soon as they were out the door, the water shut off as quickly as it had started.
The entire bathroom was flooded. Matt wasn't spared, he was dripping wet, but he hadn't been pushed out the door.
"I always thought the boys bathroom was bad, but the girls..." Matt said, moving his bangs out of his eyes as he felt a shiver coming over his body, "The girls bathroom is so, so, so much worse...", as he walked to the boy.
Matt realized the boy was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around him and he didn't have one drop of water on his clothes.
"You okay." Matt said, offering his hand.
"Yeah, I'm fine." the boy said with shaky legs as he was pulled to his feet, "Thank you."
"No problem." Matt said with a smirk, "Matt Hauer."
"I'm Percy." the boy introduced himself, "Percy Jackson."
They walked out the door, where they saw Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers, including Annabeth, had gathered around to gawk.
Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave them both a look of absolute hatred as blood from her nose was plastered over her lower mouth.
"You are dead, both of you." Clarisse shouted, "You are totally dead!"
"No, I don't think I am." Matt said, pressing his chest, "Or else I'm a very solid ghost."
"You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse?" Percy threatened, "Close your mouth."
Her friends had to hold her back. Matt crossed his arm in front of his chest as he smirked at how Clarisse dragged her toward cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.
Annabeth stared at them, but Matt couldn't figure what she was thinking.
"What?" Matt said hands in his wet pocket.
"I'm thinking." she said, "That I want you two on my team for capture the flag."
And there you go, second chapter, hope you enjoyed.
Many thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, favorite, or follows this story.
Just going to be upfront about it because it's usually one of the first questions I get, I'm not sure about the pairings. So suggest away.
Hope you enjoyed and see you people next time.