Chapter 28

Alex stood frozen looking at her. His chest was barely heaving. His legs felt weak. He looked at the ground. His blood had formed a small pond at his feet. The pants he was wearing were supposed to be dark brown, but had gained a dark-red colour Alex doubted for a second if they even were the same pants. The shoes on his feet felt soggy like he was walking around with soaked sponges. 

It was cold; freezing, even. Alex felt dizzy and lightheaded. If he closed his eyes, he'd probably faint. But that didn't seem bad, did it? He hadn't had some shut-eye in a while. It'd be nice to just get comfy in the wet bushes and fall asleep. They were probably comfortable. The rain and the low rumble of wind shaking up the trees made for a nice white noise. Oh, he could imagine it already...

The mother drakon could eat him; she was probably hungry anyway...

— Wake the fuck up, Alexander. —

Alex's eyes widened. He felt a little pull at the back of his neck, so he threw himself without thinking. At the same time, the adult drakon had spewed a torrent of acid at him that looked more like a flood than spit. Some drops splashed on him, but it didn't make a difference. 

The ring just talked again, right? After all this time...

He had no time to think about it right now. The monster clawed at the ground and dragged them, causing an upheaval of mud, dirt, rocks, grass and trees. An avalanche. There was no way he could dodge it, so Alex resigned himself to raising his shield.

Medusa's head did nothing to stop the mother drakon. She roared in defiance as the debris hit Alex's shield and sent him flying through the trees. 

When his flight lost power, he stumbled across the ground and ended up face-down in the mud. He tried to get up, yet he had no strength left in him. The ground was shaking just like before, each step taken by that thing causing a mini-earthquake.

Alex tried to drag himself through the mud. His fingers got bloody, his nails broken, but eventually, he was able to lean himself in a sitting position against a tree trunk. He just stared at the parting trees moving in his direction while clutching a large teeth wound on his lower abdomen. 

There was nothing he could do. For the first time since he could recall his memories, his brain was quiet. It didn't sprout any ideas, it didn't completely side-track the problem at hand; it was... eerily quiet. Alex was alone with the thought that he was going to die soon. He looked at the silver ring on his right hand. 

Any ideas? he asked in his mind. Maybe, whoever had talked, would say something. But of course, they didn't. 

He let his arm drop to his side and closed his eyes. Well, this was it. He guessed Hal's prophecy did warn him, yet he thought he still had some time. He hoped the other two who take good care of Annabeth. Thalia and Luke were nice, so Alex trusted them. He should've told them about camp... then they could take her there. But it was too late now, he supposed. Maybe Grover or Gleeson would find them and take them there. He seriously hoped they did.

Had he been a good father figure for the kiddo? Would she remember him in a few years? Maybe she'd tell stories to her friends about him. Maybe even her boyfriend.

Alex chuckled. He could see her teasing a boy she liked relentlessly. Whoever that would be, they better treat her well, or Alex would come back from the dead to haunt them.

Was it really over? He still had so much he wanted to do. There was still the ice dispenser from Athena's owl he wanted to try. Maybe go surfing; he had never been surfing before. Watching a movie also sounded cool. He really wanted to understand all of Hedge's references. He wanted to make more friends, and then make memories with them. Maybe... he could even try and get a girlfriend. 

But he didn't see a way out. Not this time. See ya soon, Dad. He opened his eyes again.

The mother drakon was staring murder into his purple orbs. 

"F-Fuck off," Alex croaked, spitting blood and saliva at her. 

She roared, and Alex hissed when even more drops of acid fell on him. Just get over with it, he thought. 

Now that he looked at those car-sized eyeballs of hers, Alex really felt like taking her with him. He wanted to send this bitch back to the Tartarus hole she'd crawled out of. So he raised his hand in front of him. 

For the first time — and what he hoped was the last — since he knew he was a demigod, he prayed to his mom. She owed him this, at least. Just a little help, he prayed, enough to kill this shitface. He felt something small at first, and then...

The shadows answered. 

Around him, the sky deepened to the point it was night in the middle of the afternoon. Shadows detached from trees, stones, Alex himself, and even the mother drakon. The most severe of his wounds closed, though Alex still felt most of the burns and broken bones. 

In front of him, where his hand was raised, every single shadow in the area converged into a maelstrom of darkness that seemed to suck most of the little light left. From that vortex, Alex willed for something sharp to form. A giant spike appeared; not of metal, nor wood, or even stone, but made out of pure, solid shadow. Its edges were sharper than a sword. 

Alex felt his hand trembling. The drakon bore down on him in a mountain of fury. For a moment, he remembered Thalia; how she'd waited for the right moment to strike with her lighting — so he did the same. The mother had begun charging at him. He waited and waited. Waited for the perfect moment.

When the drakon's mouth was about to tear him apart, with a cry that was both of challenge and defiance, he hurled the shadow spike. It cut through the air with a whistling sound and struck the drakon's mouth, coming out through her left eye. A scream so loud tore from the beast that Alex's ears popped. 

She reared back, thrashing, and the forest floor was torn to debris by her agony. The spike lodged between her eye and mouth pulsated, and some of the shadows seeped into her like poison. 

For a moment, Alex held his breath. Then, with a roar that faded into a whimper, the mother drakon turned tail and retreated into the forest, leaving a trail of broken trees on her path. 

The adrenaline that was sustaining Alex evaporated like water under the scorching sun and he collapsed, sliding off the tree and onto the ground. The dark dome that had blocked out the sun faded, and Alex grunted in pain, feeling his wounds stop healing. The sky, now cloudless, came back into view, and he stared upward at it in the clearing caused by the fight. He had nothing better to do.

"Now's a nice time for a nap..." he mumbled, closing his eyes. The last thing he heard before falling unconscious was the familiar sound of a motor and three voices he very much wanted to hear again.

==========

Alex dreamt for the first time in a year. Everything was foggy and hard to see, like trying to look through a thick mist. He realized he was standing high up, but not that high — maybe on a hill. He was looking down at a place with odd buildings he didn't recognize, even if they felt oddly familiar. There was a feeling that something important was about to happen. 

He finally looked at the other side of the hill, where a worn-out farm road stretched in parallel to him. That road would probably be less frequented any other day, but Alex could make out a huge crowd of... he wasn't sure. People? Monsters? From where he was standing, they looked like little figurines. He needed to get closer.

When he tried to take a step, his body didn't move. He tried again, but he was still in the same place. He was stuck there, on top of that hill, overlooking whatever was about to happen. His eyes ran over the figures again. Wait... wasn't that—

Suddenly, he woke up. 

Alex gasped for air. His eyes blinked to get rid of the gunk. Above him, the stars befrilled the dark blue blanket of the night with their glow, and the silver orb that was the moon illuminated his surroundings; not that it was needed.

He was lying in the trunk of his pickup truck, overlooking a treeless valley that was covered in tall grass and wildflowers. Moving, he sat on the edge of it, legs dangling above the colourful ground. 

The air was temperate, the breeze was cool. It took Alex a while to realize he had no clothes from the waist up, except the few poorly done bandages wrapped around some gauze pads that covered his healed wounds. He ripped those away.

Looking down at his body, he examined the new scars that marred his skin. On his left forearm, there was a jagged line that traced its way from his wrist — where his shield bracelet rested — to his elbow, probably caused when the baby drakon that bit him dragged its teeth. 

His right shoulder had a different mark; a collection of large puncture wounds that looked almost like the constellations in the sky above him. Where had these come from? ...maybe the claws, or even some of the debris that hit him. 

Then, spread throughout his body were smaller but still visible scars from the numerous teeth the drakon had. Alex sighed, ignoring some of the pulsating pain coming from the now-healed wounds. Nothing he couldn't handle. 

His body's new souvenirs had him so focused that only when he smelled the smoke, did he notice the small campfire a few feet away to his side. 

Alex grunted when his feet hit the ground. Slowly, he limped closer to the campfire. The heat of the burning wood felt nice against his exposed skin; even if it wasn't that cold. He smiled when he saw the people huddled around it.

Thalia and Annabeth were sleeping away inside this little wind-blocker woven out of plants that looked like those Native American huts. Luke was sitting on a stone, dragging a wet cloth over a slightly curved celestial bronze sword with a one-edge blade. The son of Hermes raised his eyes and smiled.

"Slept well?" He asked, returning to cleaning his dusty sword. Alex guessed this was a hideout of theirs, and Luke had stashed that sword here.

"You could say so," Alex said, plopping down on the grass near the campfire. "Had a dream, actually."

Luke arched an eyebrow. He leaned his sword against the stone he was using as a seat and threw a bottle of water at Alex, who caught it. He was kinda thirsty. 

"Demigods often have weird dreams," Luke noted, watching as Alex swirled the water around in the bottle before taking a good swig. "What was special about this one?"

"Maybe you and other demigods do," Alex said. "But I hadn't dreamt since I found out I was a demigod. Every time I was able to get some sleep, it felt like I blinked and found myself eight hours later."

"Right..." Luke leaned forward, leaning his face on his hand. "You were pretty roughed up when we found you. "

"Tell me about it," Alex chuckled self-deprecatingly. "I thought I was done. And I would've been if not for..."

Luke turned to him. "If not for what?"

Opening and closing his hand into a fist, Alex closed his eyes and just enjoyed the warmth of the fire. "My mom," he said, his tone a mix of emotions. He didn't hear Luke speak or give any sound in response, but had Alex opened his eyes, he would've seen the grimace on his new friend's face.