Chapter 12 I Run with Pointy Objects
I Run with Pointy Objects
I never thought I’d see so many people excited to run.
When I was in gym class at school, everyone hated it.
They’d get doctor’s notes and make excuses to avoid it.
But here at Camp Half-Blood, most of the kids were already jogging in place or stretching at the edge of the woods—and that was just for our trek to the starting point at Zeus’s Fist. I jogged a little too, both because I was nervous and because I was shivering.
With the sun setting, the air had started to turn chilly.
As I waited with my cabinmates, I strained to hear Clarisse assigning everyone their roles.
Fortunately, she and I had already discussed the details in private.
Each cabin would have four baton carriers.
Each carrier could have up to two assistants running alongside them to protect them against potential threats—meaning not so much monsters as other cabins trying to steal the baton.
Apparently, demigod footraces were just another excuse for dirty tricks.
“…and Katie will carry the baton for the second leg of the race,” Clarisse said, giving me a practiced sneer. “She says she doesn’t want anyone flanking her because she’s too fast to keep up with. Whatever. She knows the price if she fails.”
She sold it well. My cabinmates snickered at my expense. They all probably assumed Clarisse’s harsh expression was her Don’t lose this race or I’ll kill you face, but I knew it was her Find Grant…and don’t lose this race or I’ll kill you face.
Taking the second position, I would start my run just on the far side of the Wild Zone. Having no assistants meant nobody would know when I went invisible and took my shortcut, as long as I made sure there was no one else in sight.
I calculated that cutting across the Zone would shave at least ten minutes off the run. That wasn’t much, but it was long enough to revisit the spot where I’d lost Grant and hopefully take a second look at that weird fissure in the ground.
I figured I should have enough time to emerge from the east side of the Wild Zone and reach the third baton carrier’s position well before any of my competitors. It would look like I’d run fast, but not unbelievably fast. That was the theory, anyway.
A conch shell blew. I turned to see Argus standing on a tree stump.
In honor of the race, he wore a flashy yellow tracksuit and turquoise cleats, so only the eyes on his face and hands were visible.
Flanking him were a dozen dryads and satyrs, including Silas, who gave me a look I couldn’t quite read.
Maybe Be careful, or I’ve got a plan, don’t worry.
I swallowed my guilt. I’d been tempted to confide in him, but I wasn’t sure it was a good idea.
He was still part of the camp’s staff. Confessing that I’d been forced to enter the Wild Zone was one thing.
Telling him that I was about to do it again on purpose, after he’d told me not to, was another.
He might decide to turn me in for my own safety. I couldn’t risk it.
I scanned the crowd and spotted Benny and Harper, both blissfully ignorant of what I was about to do. Harper was dressed to run. Zuri was nowhere to be seen. I guessed she’d already sneaked off to do whatever it was she considered more important. I was on my own.
“All right, everyone!” said Argus. “Let’s go over the rules one more time.
Four runners per team. You must follow the agreed-upon route.
The baton must change hands at the designated flagged trees along the path.
” He held up a sample flag—bright yellow like his tracksuit.
“The cabins have already turned in their list of runners. You must not deviate from that list. Those cabins with fewer people have been permitted to use the same runner more than once.”
Argus gestured at the only two kids from Cabin Twelve, Castor and Pollux.
The identical twins were both lying back in the grass, one strumming a lyre, and the other yawning and twirling a finger through his blond curls.
Their dad was Dionysus, the god of wine and, well, laziness as far as I could tell.
Something told me they wouldn’t be doing a ton of running.
“These satyrs and dryads will act as roaming referees,” Argus continued, “monitoring the race to ensure the rules are followed, and rendering medical aid if needed. The winning cabin will be the first to get their baton across the finish line with their last runner. As a reminder, the prize is a sundae bar and a trip into New York City.”
Everyone cheered. Argus looked delighted by their enthusiasm. If he was concerned about sending the entire camp into the woods so soon after Grant’s disappearance, he hid it well.
“And now, to the woods!” he shouted.
Everyone pushed forward, fanning out on the edges and charging into the tree line.
Some would go all the way to the starting point at Zeus’s Fist, but the farther we walked, the more people dropped away.
Spectators took up places along the race route wherever they thought they might get the best view (or plant the best dirty tricks).
Harper and the other anchor-leg runners, along with their assistants, stopped at the first yellow-flagged tree to wait for their turn.
The satyrs and dryads spread out among the trees, blending into nature as soon as they were out of arm’s reach.
I jogged alongside my cabinmates, following the route I remembered all too well from our night of hazing.
It was easier without my hands tied behind my back and a burlap sack over my head, but I felt almost as unsettled as I had two nights before.
When we finally arrived at the farthest ribbon-marked tree, where the second leg of the race would begin, Clarisse gave me one last hard stare and then left me at my post while she continued toward Zeus’s Fist.
I ducked behind the tree, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.
The other second-leg runners milled about, joking with their assistants and laughing nervously.
They eyed their competition, no doubt wondering who might try to trip them or steal their batons before they could reach the hand-off point.
Nobody paid me much attention. They probably didn’t see the lone newbie kid as a threat, which was just the way I wanted it.
I glanced around, getting my bearings. We were at grid point C14—close to where Clarisse had given us our hazing assignment, but just out of sight of the mati pendants that marked the Wild Zone’s borders.
At top speed, it would take me an extra minute or two to reach the Zone from here, which meant less time inside to look for Grant.
I slid the ring onto my index finger. I was itching to twist the band, turn invisible, and get going, but I had to wait for the baton.
The minutes crawled by. The small crowd of runners grew restless, pacing around, swatting mosquitoes, peering into the woods toward Zeus’s Fist. Finally, the Apollo counselor Lee Fletcher burst through the underbrush, flanked by two cabinmates.
He handed his baton to Will Solace, the kid Zuri had been entertaining on the archery range, and yelled, “GO!”
Will took off like the three Furies were after him.
Moments later, more runners appeared: from the Hermes, Athena, and Demeter cabins. Pandemonium broke out as spectators hooted and clapped. Demigods from various teams shouted orders, suggestions, insults: “Come on!” “Where is he?” “Trip him!” “No fair!”
At last, Clarisse raced into the clearing and slapped the baton into my hand. “RUN!”
I ran. For a few seconds, I followed the course. I had to be sure I was away from any spectators before I turned invisible.
The second-leg runner for the Hermes cabin, a boy I didn’t know, slammed into me as he raced past, knocking me sideways into a tree.
“Hey!” I complained, but the guy was gone. I took the opportunity to duck into the bushes and twist my ring.
I skidded to a stop as my body disappeared. A wave of raw emotions slammed into me, even more disorienting than last time.
CRACK!
A vision forced itself into my mind.
The boy who’d pushed me was lying on the ground, staring up at me in shock as he dabbed his busted nose. I pointed at the blood trickling down his chin. “That’s what you get when you mess with me!” He deserved it. And hurting him was so easy, so satisfying….
I blinked hard, forcing myself back to reality. I couldn’t see my right hand, but I could feel it outstretched in a pointing gesture, as if I were actually showing the boy his blood.
“What the…?” I clenched my hand. I had to control the ring. I started running again, away from that horrible vision.
That wasn’t who I was. I was a good kid. Not a great one, by any means, especially if you believed my mom. But she’d be so horrified and ashamed if she ever saw me do something like that.
CRACK! Another vision hit me just as I crossed into the Wild Zone.
Mom shook her finger at me. Nag, nag, nag. I grabbed her finger and bent it backward so she could only ever point at herself. She screamed when the bones snapped, but I just grabbed her other index finger and—
“Stop!” I smacked myself on the side of the head.
The violent fantasy shattered, but it left my stomach churning with a mixture of rage and glee. The evil eye medallions stared down at me from the tree branches as if I were exactly the sort of evil they’d been set up to guard against.
No, I told myself. Stay on task, Katie.
I secured the baton under my belt and took off again, heading toward the fissure.
If I just kept running, maybe I could build up enough endorphins so that all my thoughts would be pleasant ones.
I could be like Olivia—happy all the time, not a care in the world, because everything always worked out for me.
CRACK!