Chapter 2 I Stab an Old Lady, but It’s Fine, Really #2
Then the trees rustled again. Grant yelled, “Go!” And I ran.
I tore through the woods, my footfalls punctuated by noises behind me—shrieking (the monster) and shouting (Grant).
I made it a hundred yards before I realized the shouts and shrieks had stopped. I stumbled to a halt, breathing hard, trying to hear over the pounding of my heartbeat.
Maybe Grant had driven the monster away. Or maybe…
I cursed myself for leaving him.
I gritted my teeth, preparing to double back, when an unfamiliar voice called to me from a nearby copse of trees:
“Is everything all right, child?”
Ice crystals formed in my heart. I turned to see an old woman in a ragged gray dress. Her face was a patchwork of peeling white snakeskin, as if she were molting. She smiled…and her mouth just kept widening.
“No—oh, my gods!” I shrieked.
Her cheeks seemed to unzip all the way to her ears. Her mouth opened wide enough to swallow my head, revealing jagged pointy teeth I’m betting weren’t covered by her dental plan.
She charged straight toward me. I had a split second to decide which way to run—back toward Grant, or onward toward camp.
Glancing east, I saw something glinting in the trees just at the edge of my vision—pieces of blue glass hanging from branches, more of those eye medallions, marking the other end of the Wild Zone. I was almost through.
Hating myself for leaving Grant, I sprinted east just as the Mouth Lady rushed forward.
“Running?” She cackled as she gave chase. “Excellent! I love a good child hunt!”
Why were old ladies who ate children so fast? I tore through the forest at top speed, but I couldn’t lose her. I heard her bare feet crunching through the leaves just behind me. Her taloned fingers sliced the back of my shirt.
I was so close to the border of the Wild Zone, but I wasn’t going to make it.
“Seriously?!” I shouted to the sky. I’d never had any luck communicating with my godly dad.
In my limited experience, he wasn’t the kind of deity who answered prayers.
But I was angry and scared, and I figured if I was about to die, I might as well yell at Ares.
“You expect me to do impossible things, and I don’t even get an assist? You want me to die here?”
Something whizzed past my right ear. I screamed, thinking the Mouth Lady was chucking missiles now. But then, about thirty feet ahead, a dagger planted itself in the trunk of a tree.
I knew immediately what it was: the dagger Dad had given me.
“Thanks,” I muttered breathlessly.
Maybe I should have felt more grateful, but I was too surprised that Ares had actually heard my plea.
Also, it didn’t seem like he was saying Oh, no!
My poor daughter! Let me help you! It was more like he was sending the message Make it another thirty feet.
Then we’ll see if you can defend yourself with a teeny blade.
If not, this should be really funny to watch.
That thought made me angrier, which gave me speed I didn’t know I had. I closed the distance to the tree, yanked the dagger out, and spun around.
I sucked at soccer. I’d failed at fencing.
But I thrived at throwing.
With one quick snap and release, the dagger left my fingers and hurtled toward the old lady with the T.
rex overbite. The blade struck her square in the forehead and sank in up to the handle.
Before you go thinking her forehead was made of pudding or something, I should mention: I get these bursts of superhuman strength at times when I’m really stressed.
I can’t always control it, and I can’t depend on it, but in this situation, it worked.
The child-eater shrieked and disintegrated into a golden cloud of dust, as defeated monsters do.
But she’d been going so fast, the dust washed over me like a mini sandstorm, sending Mouth Lady particles into my eyes and nostrils.
I imagined up on Mount Olympus, Ares was laughing so hard he fell out of his throne. I growled and started running again, completely forgetting about the dagger.
I crossed the line of blue glass eyes that marked the edge of the Wild Zone, but I didn’t stop running for another five minutes, until the woods thinned and I finally saw the blessed torchlights of Camp Half-Blood spread out before me.
I’d found J25, near where we’d started our forced march.
Just as I’d thought, the creek I’d been following meandered north toward the moonlit expanse of Long Island Sound.
Off to my right were the pegasus stables, and to my left, a white-columned dining pavilion stood on a hill overlooking the main green, where a dozen cabins nestled in a U shape around the outdoor fire pit.
In the distance loomed the combat arena, a perfect replica of an ancient Greek one.
The view was impressive, but I didn’t dwell on it.
About halfway to the cabins, in a field, Benny was doubled over, catching his breath.
I barely knew the guy, but I’d never been so relieved to see anybody in my life. I ran toward him. “You okay?”
He started at the sound of my voice but quickly recovered. He waved away my concern. I noticed his hands were raw and red, like he’d burned them.
“Oh, no, what happened?” I asked.
He frowned at his palms. “Long story. I don’t like the Wild Zone.”
“Same,” said another voice.
Harper jogged up to us from the north side of the woods.
From the waist down, he was coated in glistening mud, his jeans squelching as he moved.
Bloody scratches covered his arms and face.
Anyone else would have looked like they’d lost a mud-wrestling fight with a porcupine, but somehow Harper made the goop and the scratches look like a fashion choice, as if all the cool kids were going to be bleeding and muddy this season.
“Don’t go into that part of the woods,” he advised, pointing behind him. “There’s a patch of quicksand. And, um, some other nasty stuff.”
“Yikes,” I said. “Glad you got out intact.”
Harper grimaced, lifting one muddy, shoeless foot. “Not quite.”
I shook my head sympathetically. “Following the creek wasn’t a good idea either. There’s some sort of squawky creature in the trees, and a child-eating monster lady, and a drakon that eats”—I racked my brain—“kalamazoos.”
Benny cocked his head. “The city in Michigan?”
I nodded. “Probably that, too.”
Harper wiped his muddy hands on his shirt. “How can they call this a camp for kids when there are so many kid-eating monsters in the woods? I thought the camp had magic borders to keep monsters out.”
“Unless the monsters are invited in,” I said.
Harper gave me a steady look. “You’re telling me that someone intentionally stocked the Wild Zone with vicious predators? That kind of proves my point. This isn’t exactly a kid-friendly environment.”
I shrugged. “No argument. But neither is the real world. My journey to camp definitely proved that.”
I scanned the tree line, waiting for Grant to emerge from the woods. He’d saved me so many times now I’d lost count. He had to be okay.
“That’s weird,” Benny mused. “My trip to camp went pretty smooth, but I seem to be the only one.”
“Consider yourself lucky.” I dug in my pocket for a lip balm. “Here. For your hands. It’s not burn cream, but…” My voice trailed off when I saw that Benny’s hands were no longer red. His skin looked completely back to normal. “Wow, you’re a fast healer.”
He winced. “Something like that.”
Clearly he didn’t want to share what he meant, but I didn’t pry. We all had our secrets.
It was only when I put my lip balm back that I realized two things: 1) that weird sapphire ring Grant had found was still tucked into my pocket, and 2) I’d left my dad’s dagger in the woods.
I cursed under my breath. I mean, yes, I’d put the blade to good use, but I had a sneaking suspicion I might need it again….
“Hit the deck!” Harper yelped.
He and Benny dropped into the grass as my dagger rocketed out of the trees, whistling through the air as it sped toward me.
“Katie!” Benny grabbed my ankle, but I didn’t panic. Instinctively, I held out my hand, and the hilt of the dagger smacked against my palm. I wrapped my fingers around the leather grip.
Okay. That was weird. Dagger acquired.