Chapter 6: Skydiving? Not My Thing.

Percy POV

Annabeth's converse on the creaky wooden floor woke me up.

As I cracked my eyes the tiniest amount, I barely saw the last few wisps of her ponytail as she crept out into the dimly lit hallway. There was the slam of the screen door of the Big House, along with the hum of an engine and the squeal of tires on gravel.

Thought they could sneak away without me knowing eh?

I took a deep breath, preparing to heave myself from the pillows as my whole body groaned in the process. I could feel a coughing fit coming on, and I swallowed deeply to keep it down.

Um… you don't look so good boss.

I near jumped out of my skin.

The giant black Pegasus stood nonchalantly in the doorway; how he managed to clop through the entire Big House without anyone noticing I will never know.

Gods! Blackjack are you trying to stop my heart?

He snorted. Sorry.

I sighed, struggling to swing my feet around to the floor.

Thanks for coming buddy. I'll owe you like ten sugar cubes for this one.

So what's the plan boss?

I grabbed a square of ambrosia from the plastic baggy on the bedside table, closing my eyes to enjoy the temporary warmth that spread through my body. Sure, it wouldn't cure me, but it was better than nothing. Blackjack trotted forward, lending me his silky neck to lean on.

We follow the van… but stay out of sight. I don't think either of us wants to get our asses whipped by Annabeth. Or Thalia… Or Piper… Or-

Blackjack snorted a second time, arching one eyebrow. Well, that is, if Pegasi could do that sort of thing.

You get the point then.

We managed to creep out of the Big House, to the grassy clearing front. In the gravel, there were tire tracks where Argus's blue van has sped off nearly an hour earlier. Now, in case you've never ridden a Pegasus, everything is pretty smooth except for the take offs and landings. (Imagine sitting on top of an airplane with nothing but you're hopefully thighs of steel and a fist full of hair to hold onto). Despite the fact that many of the campers wouldn't be awake for at least another two hours, I breathed a sigh of relief as we got further and further from Camp Half-blood. After several days of being stuck inside the four white washed walls of the medical bay, the gust of fresh wind that blew against my face was welcome even though I could hardly feel my fingers and toes. My mind wandered to the six pairs of new socks that Paul had gotten me my birthday, still folded and untouched in a drawer somewhere.

We caught up to the blue van about five miles out from the city, and Blackjack receded further into the clouds to remain unseen. I had just barely drifted off when an unsympathetic snort shook me awake.

Um… Boss? You're drooling on my mane-which isn't a big deal ya know, but the Aphrodite girls DID just groom me yesterday and…

Damn. That habit always seems to kick in at the worst times without fail.

Oh… sorry.

S'alright boss. Also, we're just about to enter the city.

I cast my gaze downward, trying to keep back a sudden swell of nausea. Sure enough, the tiny gas stations that had dotted the countryside had shifted to massive, shiny skyscrapers. The streets were swarmed with tiny, pre occupied people, and smoke drifted from a few of the stacks, creating the usual haze that surrounded the big apple.

Yup. This was home, just as I remembered it.

I thought of my mothers; crammed into our tiny apartment flipping blue pancakes on the grungy stove that we had bought from a second hand shop. Despite my queasiness, I could practically smell her cooking wafting out the window and felt a pang of homesickness. I should really call her more.

As if on cue, the van pulled over and nine figures stumbled out. They walked about a block before shuffling into a lonely looking IHOP that was stationed between two department stores. Typical demigods. Think stomach before mission.

Suddenly, I felt Blackjack's body stiffen beneath me.

Bos—he half choked, his eyes wide as dinner plates.

He let out a distressed whine, and then as if his body had been possessed, began to buck like bull.

I was thrown backwards over his side, barely managing to catch onto his leg before becoming a certain concrete pancake. I decided then and there that the matador was not in my future.

"Blackjack!" I yelled aloud, hoping to snap him out of his sudden panic attack.

His head whipped around, and he gave a surprised neigh as if just remembering that I was clinging to his libs for dear life.

BOSS! JUST HOLD ON I WILL-

My hand slipped.

Thank you so much for reading everybody! Please review; I have the story mapped out, but I always love to hear ideas if you have any! -Under The Willow Tree