Legend of Perseus 2: Mission: Bermuda (Completed)

~Chapter 8~

Annabeth had led us to an alley down Church Street, and it was there that she confronted us with her questions, her sharp gaze locking onto Taylor.

"You know I'm surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with her around."

Taylor appeared baffled. "Laistry-what?"

"Laistrygonians," Annabeth explained. "The monsters in the gym. They're a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I've never seen them as far south as New York, but that's the least of our problems."

"I know, as I had told you earlier, something just went horribale at Camp, we need to get there as soon as possible. I have a gut feeling that Grover will need our help soon."

Annabeth's face paled, and her tone became urgent. "Grover? No, what about Grover?"

"It is only a guess, but I believe he ran into trouble while searching for Pan." I responded as I twisted my ring back and forth. "We will have to take Taylor with us, although she is a Japanese monster she is connected to our world."

Annabeth nodded in agreement. "We need to take her with us. Now come on."

I followed Annabeth, still feeling uneasy about what lay ahead. Annabeth stopped us at the corner of Thomas and Trimble, and I wondered what she was up to as she rummaged in her backpack. Her appearance was was a mess, and it was clear she had been through a lot.

"What are you looking for?" I asked. Sirens wailed all around us, I spotted a police car speeding past us and I could make out Sloan in the backseat in a straightjacket thrashing like some crazy guy.

"Found one. Thank the gods." Annabeth finally found what she was searching for—a gold coin that I recognized as a drachma, the currency of Mount Olympus.

Taylor looked puzzled. "You know, New York taxi drivers won't take that."

"Oh we are not taking a normal New York taxi." I laugh as Annabeth walks to the curb.

"Stêthi," she shouted in Ancient Greek. "Ô hárma diabolês!" As usual, I understood it. She'd said: Stop, Chariot of Damnation!

She threw her coin into the street, but instead of clattering on the asphalt, the drachma sank right through and disappeared. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, just where the coin had fallen, the asphalt dark-ened. It melted into a rectangular pool about the size of a parking space—bubbling red liquid like blood. Then a car erupted from the ooze. It was a taxi, all right, but unlike every other taxi in New York, it wasn't yellow. It was smoky gray. I
mean it looked like it waswoven out of smoke, like you could walk right through it. There were words printed on the door. GRAY SISTERS

The passenger window rolled down, and an old woman stuck her head out. She had a mop of grizzled hair cover-ing her eyes, and she spoke in a weird mumbling way, and in my opinion she looked really high.

"Passage? Passage?" she muttered.

"Three to Camp Half-Blood," Annabeth said. She opened the cab's back door and waved at me to get in, like this was all completely normal. I shrug and follow her in.

"Ach!" the old woman screeched. "We don't take her kind!" She pointed a bony finger at Taylor.

"Extra pay," I spoke up. "Four more drachma on arrival."

"Done!" the woman screamed. Soon we were all sitting in the backseat, with me in the middle. Luckly Taylor had shrunk back to her normal height of 6ft 2.

The interior was also smoky gray, but it felt solid enough. The seat was cracked and lumpy—no
different than most taxis. There was no Plexiglas screen separating us from the old lady driving ... There were three, all crammed in the front seat, each with stringy hair covering her eyes, bony hands, and a charcoal-colored sackcloth dress.