Geoff stared at the bunk above him, arms tucked behind his head, trying to swallow everything that had happened. Ryan gave him a tour of the cabin, which wasnât exciting in the slightest. It was crap. Beds were shoved into every crevice of the structure. It wasnât surprising after an insane amount of campers began to squeeze in through the doors after dinner. Ryan pointed out a few of the older campers, actual children of Hermes. The rest, ranging from as young as six to about twelve, were unclaimed. Their godly assholes for parents hadnât put in the time to keep track of their bastard children.
As they flooded the cabin, of course, each stared at him with open wonder. Most looked to his tattoos, a sudden flash of fear crossing their eyes. Others rolled their eyes and muttered about the cabin already being too crowded. Geoff almost wished he had Brit kid with him; they could have at least shared the attention.
Then, as the sun finally set beyond the horizon, Ryan settled down the rowdy group of kids and practically shoved them into their bunks. âGo the fuck to sleep.â Geoff heard him mutter under his breath as he climbed onto his bed. It was about a half an hour before the enthusiastic whispering dissolved into snoring, leaving Geoff wide-awake and silently fuming.
His fingers traced the new scar that decorated his arm, feeling the bumps and grooves where it didnât heal quite right. This was some crazy, fucked up dream that he was having trouble waking up from. Demigods, satyrs, harpies, it was all nonsense. It had was one all incredible hoax, or a fever dream, maybe he was finally starving to death and this was his brainâs elaborate way to hide that it was dying.
For the last few months he had been sleeping on the streets, pickpocketing strangers for food money, he had dropped out of school and the only people he hung around would probably stab him without a second thought. This was the best he was going to get in a long time.
However, his restless feet won. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, Geoff touched his bare feet to the floor and grabbed his shoes. Someone, Geoff wasnât quite sure who, took his dirty clothes and had given him a fresh pair of running shorts and an obnoxiously orange camp shirt which he had no choice but to wear.Â
Carrying his shoes, Geoff tried to weave his way through the bunks as silently as he could. The floorboards squeaked underneath his feet, but it seemed that all these Hermes kids were heavy sleepers. Probably had to be in such a crowded space.
The door caused the most noise, creaking as he attempted to open it slowly. One kid closest to the door stirred, gave a loud snore, and flopped over.
The night air beyond the cabin was still warm, but had lost the heavy humidity. Geoff closed the door carefully behind him and pulled on his shoes over bare feet. Time to start running.
At first, the camp seemed deserted. Nothing stirred, all of the cabins dark and silent, staring at him as he ran by. He would head out the way he came, maybe find one of those chariots, couldnât be much different than carjacking. He had done that before.
He was barely outside the circle of cabins when something screeched just beyond the trees. The sound cut through Geoff like a bolt of lightning and his heart started to slam against his chest. The image of the harpy flashed in front of his eyes, they wouldnât keep those damned things here, would they? Geoff started to run faster, pumping his legs as fast as he could.
His path was severed as three shapes darted out of the trees, skimming the ground with razor talons. There was no trick of the eye this time. They were immediately monsters, and their beady eyes were locked right on him. âCamper out of bed. Camper is our dinner.â They screeched in unison, the first one dive-bombing straight for Geoffâs head.
The ground suddenly went slippery underneath his feet as his shoes slid against the grass. He couldnât change direction fast enough for his panicked mind, truly terrified that he would receive a blow to the head. However, he found purchase soon enough and the harpyâs terrible maw missed him by a breath. Geoff was off running again, but back toward the cabins.
The lights stayed off and quiet as he ran along the line, desperately trying to reach Hermes cabin. He neared the peeling brown door when one of the harpies fell in a swoop, blocking the doorway. âUnclaimed camper out at night.â It growled as the other two circled overhead. âThe best meal.â
âHey, over here you idiot!â A shout rang out across the cabins. One cabin had its lights on, a beacon of hope. A figure stood outside the door, waving their hands.
Geoff sprinted faster than he had thought possible. The harpies were hot on his tail, calling threats to his back. Then the years of baseball when he was a kid kicked in and he slid the last yard, slipping past the stranger and across the wooden floor. The harpies attempted to follow inside, but were blocked by the camper. âHeâs in the cabin, get lost! Shoo!â He shouted, blocking the entrance with his body, careful to keep a foot inside the cabin.
The harpies let out a low grumbling sound before launching back into the air. The kid slammed the door shut and whirled around to face Geoff. âSeriously, wandering around at night? At least learn the harpiesâ patrol path before attempting that!â This camper was young, had tanned skinned with dark hair to match. He wore only a pair of white boxers decorated with bright red roses.
âThey keep those things at a fucking kidâs summer camp?â were the only words Geoff could find, wiping sweat from his forehead.
âSecurity. Yeah, they will eat any camper that wanders out at night but they are great guard dogs when needed.â The kid shrugged nonchalantly, scratching his head with a yawn. âYouâre lucky I was still up. Otherwise you wouldâve been bird-food.â
âThat is the second time Iâve heard that today.â Geoff muttered, standing stiffly. This cabin was a stark contrast to Hermes cabin, stuffed to the brim with kids. No wonder Ryan had told Burnie to stick them with another cabin. This one was empty. About five bunks were spread out across the room, only one seemed occupied with pictures hanging on the wall next to it. The rest were carefully made and as Geoff leaned against one to stand, his hand was covered with dust. âAre you in here by yourself?â
It was not nearly as lived in as Hermes. The floor was relatively scuff free, it smelled of sea salt rather than sweat, and the walls lacked the decorations of several children attempting to share one space.
âYeah,â The boy said, without a hint of loneliness. âMy dad doesnât like to get his groove on as often as some of the other gods.â He made a slow gyrating motion with his waist before stopping, a blush creeping across his face. âSorry, I didnât mean to imply that--â
Geoff held up a hand. âIâm new to this mess, I donât even know if that Hermes dude is my dad.â He sighed heavily. âThis just feels like a bad dream.â
âIt does feel like that at first, doesnât it?â The kid laughed, sitting down on his bed. âMy nameâs Ray, and youâre new. A little old to be a new camper.â
âTell me about it.â Geoff sat on the bed across from him, rubbing tired eyes. âIâm Geoffrey, but for the love of god donât call me that. Geoff works just fine.â He flopped down on the bed, trying to ignore the cloud of dust that erupted from his back. âYouâre not going to send me back out there, are you?â
Ray shook his head, a careful smile spreading across his face. âNah, you donât need to be harpy bait twice in one night. Thereâs plenty of room for you here.â The boy rose from his bed and plodded over to the lights, flicking them off. âIf you want to make your grand escape, I suggest putting it off until dawn. No one likes to get up before eight here.â
Geoff mumbled a noise of acknowledgement, his muscles relaxing for the first time in days, this bed was really comfortable. He would only sleep a few hours, and then he would be out. Ray wasnât going to stop him and the harpies would be gone with the sun. He only had to sleep a few hours.
A loud slam on the door jolted Geoff from sleep, banging his forehead against the bunk above him. Bright sunlight filtered in through the windows. He had definitely slept past dawn.
Ray was already out of bed, now wearing one of those obnoxious camp shirts. He had one sandal on his foot and hopped over to the door, still trying to pull the other one on.
âNARVAEZ, OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR.â Ryanâs deep voice bellowed outside. âDo you have my new camper in there? I really donât want to deal with the paperwork if heâs dead.â He continued to pound on the door until Ray ripped it open.
âYES.â Ray shouted back into Ryanâs face. âHeâs right here you psychopath.â
âNice escape attempt,â Ryan snorted, peering around Ray at him. âDidnât even get past Poseidon cabin.â His face was slowly going from bright red back to a normal pale. âLetâs get going, itâs time for breakfast.â
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