Renegade

Griff's POV

So, another car ride, this time only a miniscule ten hours. After last night’s fiasco with me breaking down into tears, Emily had insisted on driving, but I think that that was just a cover. She had just gotten her license before leaving for Gibraltar, so I guess she really wanted to do some actual driving without an old, grumpy instructor sitting next to her.

Glancing over at Emily in the driver’s seat, with the afternoon sun on her face, I seriously got to appreciate how pretty she was. Even though she only had on sweatpants and a college t-shirt and her brown hair tied back in a ponytail, she was probably one of the prettiest girls I had ever met.

No, I told myself, You have to focus! Thorn, remember?

I forced myself not to stare at her as she focused intensely on the road, her blue eyes wild with nerves. I had to keep myself angry. I would find thorn, and I would kill him. But then, for the first time since the ship, a small voice in my head whispered,

Why do you have to be angry? You don’t need to kill the guy just yet. Enjoy the time off you have now. What you need to do is smile.

Even though it was my internal voice, I couldn’t help but notice the voice sounded a little bit like Emily’s.

Day passed into night as we kept on going, occasionally stopping for gas and to stretch our legs. I offered to drive, once we were within a hundred miles of Paris, but Emily declined. Her eyelids were droopy, and her eyes themselves were starting to become veined with red streaks, but the blue in them was as bright as ever, still surprisingly full of energy.

When we reached Paris, we checked in to another 24-hour motel, and this time Emily got to use one of her parent’s powers. She spoke flawless French to the middle-aged lady who looked like the owner, who smiled with surprise as they chatted. When we got to our room, Emily laughed,

“Wow! I never knew I could speak French that well! I always wanted to speak Spanish, but I guess I’m destined to speak French!”

“What did you guys even talk about?” I asked, motioning outside, towards the front desk.

“Oh, nothing,” She responded, but she was definitely blushing and trying to hide it, which was extremely cute.

“I didn’t know ‘Oh, nothing’ was such a personal topic,” I remarked, and she looked at me confused.

“You’re blushing,” I pointed out, which only made her blush harder.

But I smiled openly, and the blush went away. Eventually, she smiled back, and the matter was settled.

“Did…uh…Mr. Otto Field, give us any directions?” I asked, avoiding the weird guy's name.

“I don’t think so,” Emily answered, “and I’ve been thinking about that for a little bit. How are we supposed to find—”

As if on cue, a golden envelope fluttered out of nowhere and landed on the backpack Nico had given us. It sparkled like nothing else I had ever seen.

“Do you think…” Emily’s question trailed off as I cautiously grabbed the envelope, and lifted the unsealed opening. In it was a letter written on paper as gold as the envelope, that had two sentences on it.

5 Avenue Anatole, noon. Don’t be late; time is very important to me.

“Yep,” I said, answering her unfinished question, “we got directions.”

Emily looked at the letter and scoffed, like the address was a funny joke.

“What’s up?” I asked, “You recognize the address?”

“Eiffel Tower,” She said. I looked at her with an eyebrow raised and she clarified, “that’s the address of the Eiffel Tower. I saw it on a highway sign on the way into the city.”

“Greeeeaaaat,” I said, “we’re going to do official Olympian business on a Paris landmark. Let’s try to not to break it, eh?”

Emily chuckled, and since it was easily past eleven at night, we went to sleep.
_______________________________________________________________________________

We were early the next morning. We were scared, excited, nervous, and forcing a look of disinterested calm while pretending to have a normal conversation. My emotions were confusing me. But I kept coming back to one thing, one thought that cleared my mind.

You have to find him, Griff.

For absolutely no reason, I started to wonder whether our client was Dr. Thorn. That would be crazy. The one guy we’re hunting down, and he shows up to a formal business meeting at the Eiffel Tower? But in a twisted way, it made sense; I mean, he was obviously French, maybe he lived here.

But when the client showed up, I found myself disappointed that it wasn’t Thorn. Then I realized who our client was, and my jaw dropped so hard that my heart climbed into my throat to see if it could get a peek at the guy.

Well, ‘guy’ doesn’t really do him justice. This guy was a behemoth. He was a man and a half. A bald head like an olive-colored block of stone perched itself on top of massive shoulders. Ripped chest muscles and abs strained to push through the triple-extra-large shirt he had on that read, ‘I Hit the Club’ with pictures of the caveman weapon around it. His thighs were as thick as my torso and somehow fit into a pair of khaki shorts that made him look he was one of those Cali ‘bros’. The extra-large Ray-Bans that barely wrapped around his massive skull and the size 25 boat
shoes didn’t help the look, though.

Then, I noticed something about his left leg. It was normal-sized, and bound by a black metal brace with the Greek letter Eta on it. I remembered seeing something like that at Camp, but I was so focused on not pissing this guy off that I blanked on where I had seen it before

“TFG?” He asked in a grunt that was also somehow a question.

“Uh…yeah,” Emily responded nervously, and then asked, with too much amazement, “You speak English?”

“Yeah” He grunted back, “I don’t live here, you know.”

“Where do you live?” Emily asked.

“Where do I live?” The mammoth asked himself like he both didn’t know the answer and was somehow philosophically pondering the question. But a person with a skull that large could only have a brain about the size of an apple. I learned that in Paleontology 101. It was an elective class, okay?

“I lived…on the road between Athens and Troezen, about 2500 years ago,” He said like we would completely understand where that was. Then, something in my mind clicked.

Troezen, I thought, Where have I heard that city before?

“Do you have the package?” He asked, pushing past his former address. But Emily and I weren’t that stupid.

“2500 years ago?” She asked, “How are you still alive?”

Suddenly, the man’s Cali smile melted, and he removed his Ray-Bans like he was regretting what he was about to do.

“You shouldn’t have asked that question,” He said, like it was our crime we had committed, and now we would receive the death sentence.

I wanted to look him in the eyes and convince him not to kill us, but when I looked up at his eyes, they weren’t there. Well, there weren’t two eyes. Just one. Then, my quarter Athena kicked in.

One eye. Gimpy leg. Club user.

“You’re Periphetes!” I realized in horror, “The Club-Bearer! You used to beat people to death with a spiked club—”

Just then, he crushed his glasses and crushed them in his hand, but when he opened his palm up, instead of blood, the glasses were changing. They grew polished amber-colored wood and Celestial bronze spikes, mixed in with a few modern steel nails for good measure. Suddenly, Periphetes was holding the biggest club I had ever seen. And it was beautiful, in a ‘this is the last thing you’ll ever see’ kind of way.

“Theseus killed you!” I remembered, “He bashed in your hea—”

“Don’t mention his NAME!” the ogre roared, and we fell silent.

Then, all Hades broke loose. Periphetes flipped over the iron table we were sitting at, and Emily barely dodged it as it flew towards us. I managed to draw my pistols and fire a couple of bullets, but the monster’s club was so massive it acted like a portable shield.

Emily rolled and dodged, drawing her daggers as Periphetes slammed his club down where she had been only a split-second earlier. Even thought the club must have weighed at least 175 pounds, the big guy could swing it around like a t-ball bat.

I continued to fire at him, trying to aim for his knee brace, but I had to keep moving to dodge his swings, so it was hard to place an accurate shot. Then, the unthinkable happened. Emily, not thinking straight, stepped inside of the monster’s guard to get a swipe at him. She was quick, and ended up cutting his super-sized leg, but she wasn’t quick enough.

Periphetes swiped at her, and she tried to jump straight back, but some of the outermost spikes caught her in the stomach, and she was knocked sideways. Periphetes laughed as he slowly turned to face me,

“One puny down, another to—”

That’s when I got my shot. I screamed out of pure, molten rage and fired something like 30 shots in the space of 2 seconds. All of which hit the Club-Bearer in his gimpy leg. He wailed in pain and hopped away on his good leg, but I kept firing, driving him away from Emily. He ducked behind a wall and I started to chase him, but when I got to where he should have been he was gone, leaving only a crushed pair of Ray-Bans at the base of the low wall.

"Styx!” I cursed out loud, and thunder rumbled softly overhead. But I was too pissed to care, so I shouted, “Shut up!” at the thunder overhead. Then, I remembered Emily.

Oh Gods, no, I thought.

I ran back over to where she was sprawled on the gravel path, lying in a pool of her own blood. I feared the worst but still ran over to her lifeless body. As a hope, I got on my knees and shook her shoulder No response.

“Oh Gods” I whimpered, breaking into angry tears as I shouted at the gods far above, “No! No, that’s not fair! We didn’t find him yet! I didn’t get to say I’m sorry! I didn’t get to say—”

“Didn’t get to say what?” A voice asked at my feet. I looked to the voice, and there was Emily, alive again, her blue eyes sparkling with the same old energy, just faded a little.

“Emily!” I shouted, and then realized, “Oh Gods, your stomach!”

“Yeah,” she drabbled, half-conscious, “about that…”

“You are not dying on me!” I ordered, “Again.”

“Yes…yes, Sir,” she said lucidly.

I helped her sit against the low wall and realized that the cloth of her short-sleeve shirt was embedded into her wounds, and that it needed to be removed in order to heal.

“Emily,” I said in a forcibly calm tone, “I’m going to have to remove your shirt to clean the wound, okay?”

“Whatever you say, cutie” She said, slurred. She sounded like she was on painkillers.

Painkillers! I thought, Duh!

I found the black backpack and fed her some of the demigod version of Aleve, as well as some ambrosia and nectar. Her blood had now totally redecorated part of the low wall she was resting against, but that didn’t matter. Because the drugs worked. And when I say the drugs worked, I
mean they instantly worked. She came to like a cloud was being lifted from her eyes.

“Whoa!” She shouted, “Greek Hulk! Spikey stuff! Stomach pain! Griff, wha—?”

Then she blushed, looking down at her shirt.

“And I just called you ‘cutie’.”

“I didn’t mid it,” I said, and she tried to punch me, but she was too weak.

“Just do it,” she ordered.

Carefuly, I grabbed the bottom of her white cotton shirt and lifted it over her head, letting the part that covered her back, the part pinned to the wall, stay. I dressed the wounds as fast as possible, but she looked like she had been strafed by a machine-gun. After it was all over, I lifted the front part of her shirt back over her neck and let it drop. All done.

For some reason, Emily looked into my eyes after I had finished up dressing her wound and her, and we just stared at each other for a second. Not too long, just a moment. Singular. And yet, it felt like that moment lasted for forever. In that one moment, I studied every different color in her blue eyes. But then, I stared dumbly at the wound I had just healed, no, I wasn't staring at the wound, but her body. Then it got awkward.

I dropped my stare and after giving her a few more sips of nectar and water, and another painkiller, Emily gently patted some of the dried blood off of her shirt and I helped her stand.

We took a taxi back to our motel and snuck in to our room without the owner seeing Emily wound. I laid her gently on her bed and watched over her until she fell asleep, and then realized how tired I was. But that didn’t matter.

I would stay awake until Emily woke again.

Notes

REALLY LOOOOOOOONG Chapter, but it's got a fight scene and a cute awkward moment, so just calm down and read the chapter. The only reason I tell you guys that the chapter is long is because I write in a way that makes the reader have to read every word in order to get the full meaning of the chapter, I guess. But ENJOY!