Static, Rainbows, and Bad Press
Percy and his friends had to escape; above all, they needed to keep their heads down, since at that moment Percy seemed to be quite famous. Just then, he was staring at a television through the glass of an electronics store, where the news was showing what appeared to be the first terrorist attack on the Gateway Arch in St. Louis, Missouri.
The reporter, broadcasting from a helicopter flying over the area, described the massive destruction: craters everywhere, the ground charred and smoking. The arch, they said, had survived only by a miracle.
"I'm showing you right now what's left of the area. It appears the terrorists detonated a series of explosives in several locations in an attempt to bring down our famous arch. As you can see, the surrounding grounds are destroyed—full of holes and cracks in the earth—and some sections have been completely consumed by fire. All we can say is that it's a blessing no one was hurt in what we're calling the worst attack since… well, you know," said the reporter, speaking as if this were the highlight of his career. He was breathing heavily, perhaps overwhelmed by the scale of the destruction.
The broadcast then switched back to the newsroom, where a man and a woman continued with the report. "We have witness statements claiming they saw a young man just before the incident. The boy is said to be wanted for questioning following the disappearance of his stepfather and mother, and for possible involvement in the explosion of a bus outside New Jersey, where, according to reports, three elderly women were attacked. Percy Jackson. We also have witnesses who were among the last to see Jackson's stepfather on the day he vanished," said the reporter.
In a small box on the screen appeared an image of a group of men that Percy immediately recognized as Gabe's nameless friends. He had never bothered to remember their names—after all, they were all the same as Gabe: smelly, loud, and obnoxious.
There they were, wearing sorrowful expressions, holding candles, and wearing T-shirts with Gabe's ugly face printed on the front, pretending to mourn his disappearance.
"Can you tell us when you last saw Gabe Ugliano, his wife Sally Jackson, and their son Percy Jackson?" the journalist asked the group.
"Yes," said one of them, bald, holding a lit candle in his hand. "That day we were having a little get-together, as we sometimes do to celebrate our friendship. We were watching the game and playing cards when that kid, Jackson, walked in. Way too arrogant for his age, giving us this look of pure disdain. He demanded money from Gabe, like he owned the place. But Gabe didn't have any cash—he'd, uh, invested it somewhere. Then this tall, muscular guy came in; he looked violent, maybe a gangster or something. He beat us up and stole all our money just to hand it over to that brat. He took about five hundred—no, a thousand dollars—and then kicked us out," he lied shamelessly to the camera as Percy's anger boiled over.
The men behind him nodded quickly in agreement. "After that, when we came back, they were all gone. We just want our money back and won't press charges. Still, if that boy's guilty of our friend's death, we hope he's arrested soon," they added, feigning grief, though their greedy expressions gave them away. Appearing on TV might bring them some sympathy—or donations—to keep gambling.
The newscast returned to the studio. "There you have it. Remember, if anyone sees Percy Jackson, call the police immediately. Be careful—he may be armed and dangerous. Thank you for watching," they said before showing one last shot of the devastation caused by Miraak and Echidna.
Percy turned to his friends.
"Do they really think I did all that? Seriously, those bastards!" he shouted furiously, as if ready to jump through the screen and punch someone.
Grover reacted quickly and grabbed him, while Annabeth stared at him intensely; none of them had noticed that people were beginning to stare.
"Stop making noise, seaweed brain, and let's go," she said in a low but firm voice.
The three hurried away while Percy kept muttering under his breath.
"And now what? I don't think we can take a taxi, or a bus, or anything at all now that Percy is a wanted criminal; they'll probably accuse him of terrorism next," said Annabeth, listing each accusation deliberately to irritate Percy even more.
"You're lucky I'm not," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her.
Before Annabeth and Percy could start arguing again, Grover spoke up.
"There's no other choice; we'll have to walk," he said, taking the lead. Despite his disappointment at having to walk, he pulled out his flute and began practicing the magical melody Percy had given him, as he seemed to have a natural connection with the instrument.
Percy and Annabeth exchanged looks and made faces before following Grover. It wasn't the first time; after all, they had already walked from the camp to the city, and after the bus explosion, they had trekked through the forest again. It seemed that, throughout this whole adventure, they were going to be spending a lot of time on foot.
…
The group walked under the blazing sun, chatting lightly as they continued west along the road. After a long while, they finally reached Colorado. The first thought that came to Annabeth's mind was to contact Camp Half-Blood to ask for instructions on what to do next.
"There," Annabeth said, pointing toward a car wash.
Percy and Grover followed her, exhausted after the long road trip.
"And how exactly are we supposed to call the camp? Weren't we told not to use phones or any kind of device?" Percy asked, confused, as they stepped inside.
Meanwhile, Grover was counting the coins in his pocket. "Hmm… you got any spare change, Percy?" he asked.
Percy reached into his pocket and checked. "Hmm… only bills. And… one dollar in coins," he said, handing him a few.
The machine only accepted coins.
"Well, that'll give us about five minutes," said Grover without much enthusiasm. They could go look for change, but it would probably be pointless.
"So?" Percy pressed, this time looking at Annabeth, since Grover was still busy with the coins.
"We'll contact camp through an Iris Message," Annabeth said. "Give me a drachma."
Percy reached into his bag and pulled out a couple of gold coins, sighing with the feeling that his friends were using him as some sort of walking ATM.
"Iris… you mean the goddess of the rainbow?" asked Percy.
"Yes. She acts as a messenger for us, when she has the time… or the mood," explained Annabeth, taking the drachma coin and glancing toward Grover, who was using the car wash hose to create a small rainbow in the air with the reflection of the water.
"Oh, Iris, goddess of the rainbow, accept my offering.
Show us Camp Half-Blood," she said softly.
Within the shimmering colors of the rainbow, something began to change; an image slowly formed through the refraction of light. A vision of the Big House's porch appeared before them.
There stood Luke, his face serious.
"Huh, Luke?" said Percy, recognizing him. Luke turned around, startled. "Percy? Is that you? Did something happen? Is Grover all right?" he asked quickly, genuine concern in his voice.
The oddly specific question made Percy raise an eyebrow for a moment, though he kept the conversation going. "Yeah, Grover's fine," Percy answered as Grover peeked from the side.
"Hey," he greeted.
"Oh, that's good," said Luke with relief.
"What's going on over there? Where are Chiron and Mr. D?" asked Percy.
"The camp's divided. Some are siding with Zeus, others with Poseidon. Even Ares says he's supporting Poseidon now. Chiron's barely managing to keep the peace. Mr. D was called away because of it and isn't here," Luke explained with a troubled expression. "I wish I could've gone with you, helped you on your quest," he added.
"Mm… well, Annabeth and Grover are doing their job… I think," said Percy, glancing at both of them with a faint smile.
"That's good," Luke replied, returning the smile more calmly.
At that moment, a loud noise boomed from a nearby car blasting music at full volume.
"What's that noise?" asked Luke.
"It's fine, I'll take care of it," said Annabeth quickly. "Grover, help me."
"Uh, yeah," replied the satyr, handing the hose to Percy before following her.
Percy noticed something curious. Up until then, Annabeth had avoided showing herself in front of Luke; she probably didn't want him to see her looking so messy. Her hair was tangled and her clothes dirty after everything they had been through, including the forced bath in the Mississippi.
Ironically, Percy was the only one who looked relatively clean, thanks to the clothes his teacher had given him. He was wearing almost all of them, except for the jacket—not because it was uncomfortable, but because it would attract too much attention under the sun.
"It's good you went with Annabeth; she's very smart. I'm sure she can help you, Percy," said Luke with a calm smile.
Percy looked at him with an amused expression. "You seem to like her a lot," he said teasingly.
"Well, yeah; I like her as if she were my little sister," Luke replied, running a hand through his hair with a kind smile.
Percy thought those words had probably just broken the girl's heart.
A second later, there was a loud thud against the car, followed by yelling and the sound of the vehicle speeding away. Grover and Annabeth came back laughing, looking quite pleased with themselves.
At the same time, the machine started beeping—the message time was running out.
"Luke, time's up. Tell Chiron we're fine. We'll continue our quest westward," said Percy.
"All right, don't worry; I'll handle things on this end. And tell Grover he's going to make it this time—he'll get you all there safe and sound," Luke replied just before the stream of water shut off.
His words left Percy thoughtful for a moment. Why would he say that now?
Percy turned around just as Annabeth and Grover came back.
"Hey, where's Luke? You're done talking? Did he say anything about me?" asked Annabeth quickly.
Percy looked at her silently for a few seconds, then smirked.
"Yeah. He said your hair looks like a bird's nest," he said as he walked out of the car wash.
Annabeth froze, eyes wide, then immediately raised her hands to her head, desperately trying to fix her hair with her fingers, completely mortified.
"Hey, that's not true! He didn't say that!" Annabeth shouted after Percy, though her uncertain expression betrayed her doubt. "He didn't… right?" she asked again, but Percy only gave her a grin and kept walking, which made her even more nervous.
—
N/A: I finished the first book! (I mean, reading it, haha)
But before moving on to the next ones, I started digging deeper into Greek mythology to complete some details about the Underworld… and honestly, after reading so much, I can only say one thing: the Greek gods are a bunch of complete bastards.
Yes, all of them. Sons of… well, you know. Truly despicable.
If I had to spare anyone, maybe it'd be Hestia (because she's adorable) and the Titan Prometheus (because at least he did something useful for humanity).
But the rest… ugh.
So I'll probably make a few changes to how the story was going to unfold. I know that in Riordan's books the gods only show a fraction of their power, and it's implied that they're incredibly powerful beings.
But if we use similar logic… the Dragonborn, an existence that can rival the world-eater himself (Alduin), should be just as fearsome, even if he appears a bit nerfed in the game.
(Now that I think about it, it's kind of similar to Ragnarok in Norse mythology, where the apocalypse can't be stopped but can be delayed.)
I'll try to keep the balance so the story feels epic and neither side—mythological or Skyrim—comes off poorly.
Though, to be honest… I'm leaning a little more toward Miraak's side, even if he's also a bastard in Skyrim.