Demigod: Chapter 3 (Patreon)

I'm back from purgatory! Purgatory defined as: My throat hurt and I made lots of coughs. I'm close to better now, enough that I can write again, although it might take me a few days to get back to my usual level of efficiency.

Oh, and thanks for your patience and well wishes. It truly means a lot.

Chapter 3

Spider-Man

Peter Parker didn’t exist. But he had. 

Percy wasn’t going to pretend he understood it, the most he could do was explain how things happened, telling it from his point of view.

When he arrived at Midtown High, blending in with victims of the Blip, there was a guy named Peter Parker. He was pretty small, a little nerdy, nice, and always hung out with the same two friends. Percy would pass him in the halls. 

Then, overnight, Peter becomes the most famous guy in the school.

That was underselling it. Anywhere you went in New York, you’d hear Peter’s name. Even Luis wouldn’t shut up about him while Percy worked his shifts. Peter’s identity had come out— he was Spider-Man, the elusive hero who had been swinging around New York for years.

There were accusations that he was a criminal, murder charges that ultimately got dropped, outlandish rumors that Peter abducted pretty young women in his webs and ate them like a real spider, crazy fangirls that hoped those rumors were true and actively wished it would happen to them, and during it all Midtown High attracted people from all over the city, hoping to get a glimpse of the great (or horrible) Peter Parker.

Look, Percy felt bad for the guy. Peter didn’t deserve this. But was he surprised that it happened? No. This was the result of living as a hero. Whether you were cutting down monsters or stopping bank robbers, consequences always caught up.

Something happened in New York. For a few days there was an increase in crime, until one evening the night turned purple. Percy’s talking about big gaping wounds in the sky, full of shapes and silhouettes. You could see it out of his apartment window.

Then, it was over. Those shapes were gone, the night was normal, and Peter Parker didn’t come to school the next day. Or the day after that. When Percy asked what happened to him, he got a blank look. He’d gone to Ned, Peter’s best friend, and Ned had cocked his head.

“Who’s Peter Parker?” he said.

The only way Percy knew that Peter wasn’t dead was that Spider-Man was still out there. Unless someone else had taken over, Peter was living as a hero at the expense of everything else he’d had. Peter Parker was dead, in a way, while Spider-Man lived on in his place. Somehow, he kept going. He stuck muggers to walls, rescued kids from burning buildings, and put down robberies before they could start. As close as Percy could tell, he himself was the only one in the world who knew the whole story. For the life of him he didn’t know why he could remember when no one else could. But remember he did.

“Spider-Man was spotted on the scene, putting an end to the mechanical menace. Estimates have not yet come in about the projected damages to Midtown High. However, the Life Foundations have offered to cover the damage in a stunning show of charity—”

Percy didn’t linger in front of the business’s window, where the news was playing on a television inside. He was getting enough odd looks walking home without already, without an unnecessary stop. It wasn’t every day that a teen walked by shirtless with twigs in his hair.

Listening to the newscaster’s voice fade in his wake, Percy marveled at the efficiency of the news here. Spider-Man stopped the robot attack less than thirty minutes ago, and they were already able to air a segment about it. 

“I guess they’re used to chaos,” Percy mumbled. 

After all the city had been through, maybe that was the minimum that should be expected.

Reaching his building, Percy ducked inside. It was a steep climb up the stairs to the third floor. When Percy got his fingers around his doorhandle, he froze. There was movement inside. When he twisted his wrist, the handle turned without his key.

Percy sighed.

He opened the door and walked boldly into his room, just to be greeted by inquisitive eyes and the sound of gulping. 

A silver-haired woman was standing in the middle of his apartment just a few steps away, holding a carton of milk to her lips. The drink sloshed as she drained it, only lowering the carton once it was empty. She released a satisfied sigh and rubbed her lips with her hand.

“What happened to your shirt?” she asked.

“How’d you get into my room?” Percy asked.

He didn’t ask it with anywhere near the urgency he should have. The first few times this happened, he’d demanded an answer, but the ones he got were always so ridiculous that now he was going through the motions.

“Oh, I let myself in.”

“The door was locked, Felicia.”

“I know. I used the window.”

“I locked the window, too.”

This made her laugh. “You can’t lock windows, silly.”

“What do you think the latches are?”

“Suggestions,” said his guest. She walked to Percy’s trash and dropped the empty carton in, then turned back to him, leaning against his kitchen counter. “You’re out of milk. You should really buy more.”

Percy groaned.

Felicia Hardy was his neighbor. It was complete coincidence that they met. Percy had trouble staying asleep when his dreams started picking up momentum, so he’d go out for late walks. Felicia was nocturnal. After running into each other three times at unholy hours, they’d finally exchanged names. Felicia asked if he was the one screaming like a bitch in the middle of the night. From that moment on, he’d known she would leave an impression.

“So. Shirt,” Felicia said.

“I had to get rid of it,” Percy said. He walked to his dresser, opening a depressingly empty drawer and picking out a replacement. The white shirt with a pink logo on the back was free promotional material for a pizza place he’d never visited. Percy still put it on, ignoring the small disappointed noise Felicia made with her throat.

“Ah, someone saw you fleeing the scene,” Felicia said. “It’s alright. No one pulls off their first mugging cleanly. Don’t fret about the police sketch. Those are never accurate.”

“I didn’t rob anyone. My shirt got a hole in it.”

“Of course,” Felicia demurred. “That’s why your first choice was to take it off. Because that’s what anyone does with a hole in their shirt.”

“It was a big hole,” Percy said, which was more true than Felicia even knew. 

Pulling on the fresh shirt, Percy took a second to look at Felicia. Sensing there was attention on her, Felicia smiled and shifted, as if getting in position for a glamor shoot.

She looked as good as a model. She was a few years older than Percy. He didn’t know the exact number. Her hair was silver, almost gray but with a stronger luster. Percy had asked if she dyed it and only got coy comments for his trouble. She was undeniably gorgeous, with a narrow waist and full figure. Tonight, she was wearing leather pants with a white shirt and a dark blazer jacket. Felisha licked her lips, cleaning them of the bits of milk that were left.

“Done staring?” she asked.

“I wasn’t staring,” Percy said flatly, turning away from her. 

“A pity. You can if you want, you know,” Felicia said. “There’s no point in looking this good if you aren’t appreciated for it.”

Oh, yeah. All those things he thought about her looks? Felicia knew it too, and she was far from shy about reminding you.

“Hey, Felicia. Does the name Peter Parker mean anything to you?” Percy asked.

“Should it?” she said. “It sounds like a man. Is he handsome?”

“I’d say so.”

Felicia sighed dramatically. “Then it’s a great shame that I have no clue who that is.”

“What about Spider-Man,” Percy said. “You’ve heard of him, right?”

“Who hasn’t,” Felicia said, rolling her eyes. “There are only so many men dim enough to dress up and get shot at for free. There are far more efficient ways to ruin your life.”

If Andrew was the biggest superhero fan you could meet, Felicia was a committed hater. Percy noticed it slowly at first, one snide comment at a time. When she noticed Percy didn’t get upset with her, she made her criticisms more overt. From what Percy had seen, Felicia wasn’t the only one who wasn’t a fan of heroes. 

For every house the Avengers saved, another got totaled. For every civilian they whisked out from under falling rubble, another got crushed. Those people left family and friends behind. Some of them blamed heroes for the hurt they’d gone through. Was it fair? Of course not. But bright suits and celebrity status made easy targets. Grief wasn’t known for being logically sound.

Felicia lived alone, just like Percy. He hadn’t asked why that was. He just knew that once she realized he was alone, she started showing up like this one day and hadn’t stopped. His supply of milk had never recovered.

Felicia stretched, pushing her arms above her head and popping her chest forward. When she brought her arms down, she smirked at Percy.

“The milk was good. Don’t spend all the cash you stole in the same place,” she said. “They’re more likely to track you that way.”

“For the last time, I didn’t mug anyone!” Percy said, but Felicia was already leaving. She walked on the balls of her feet, each of her steps carrying a significant pop.

“Toodloo, neighbor!” she said. “This cat is off to make her rounds!”

Enter silently and leave loudly. If Felicia Hardy had a motto, that’d be it.

Percy would love to say the room was quiet without her, but the truth was the walls were way too thin for that. Traffic noise leaked in, accompanied by the occasional raised voice from the street below. He rubbed his face with both hands. He was hungry and sleepy, but given that his fridge was next to empty he chose to go to bed.

The blankets were still twisted up from the night before. He’d never been one for making his bed, unless you counted the morning before inspection at Camp Half-Blood. Percy rolled over and his hand hit something hard.

Propping himself on his elbow, Percy shifted the covers to find a whole rotisserie chicken still in its plastic casing. It was fresh, given the condensation collected on the inside of the casing. There was a sticky note on the side, but the only thing written on it was a single stamp of a cat’s paw. Felicia’s way of saying Thank you for the milk.

“You couldn’t have just handed it to me?” Percy asked.

He tore the chicken apart at his table that night, wolfing it down before he returned to bed.

O-O-O

The school bus grinded through traffic with humid air leaking in the cracked windows. Percy was wearing a stained white shirt that he’d gotten from a thrift store’s dumpster. It wouldn’t win him any style points, but at least it covered his upper body. 

“See that building? The one that’s newer than the ones around it? The Hulk broke that during the invasion. He punched a leviathan straight through it!.”

“That’s cool, Andrew,” Percy said, barely listening.

He was casting his eyes around the bus. Five rows up, across the aisle, he saw blond hair attached to a skinny neck.

Three randomly-selected Midtown High classes were on their way to the field trip Mr. Harrington advertised to him. To put it another way, it was six days since Percy and Charlie were attacked by a fully-armed robot of mass destruction.

Charlie hadn’t said a word about it.

He was ducking Percy, too. That day, he’d pestered Percy with all his might, now he wouldn’t even look at him. It was convenient, but it was too weird for Percy to ignore. The news was reporting that no one had been on the scene, so Charlie hadn’t talked to anyone about what happened. Why keep it a secret? What was he trying to do?

“Who’re you looking at? Is it a girl?” Andrew leaned over from his window seat, trying his best to trace the direction Percy was looking. “Maybe that Michelle chick? She’s pretty cute—”

“Forget about that one,” Percy said. “I think she’s got a boyfriend.”

Andrew groaned. “Buuuummer.”

Michelle Jones was sitting two rows ahead of Charlie, Ned Leeds in the spot next to her. Percy had done a double take when first saw them. Midtown was a big school. What were the odds that both Peter’s friends would be on the trip?

The bus pulled alongside the Hudson River. There was a big parking lot that was still new— you could tell by looking at the asphalt, still bright and not yet cracked. 

Beyond the parked cars, what had once been an industrial dock had seen major renovations, transforming it into a viewing platform looking across the Hudson’s flat waters. Tourists, visibly from all corners of the globe, were gathered with cameras. Sprouting from the shore was a long bridge, gated with smiling guards posted on either side. A woman in a lab coat and glasses was standing in front of the bridge, fielding questions from an ebbing and flowing crowd. 

Their bus parked between two others from Midtown High, the doors opening so students could file out. Mr. Harrington stood at the front of the bus, directing traffic with a packet of papers in his hand. “One at a time! Group up by class on the sidewalk!”

Percy and Andrew were two of the last ones to get off. When they exited the bus, the humidity wrapped them like an extra layer of clothes. 

Students were loitering, waiting for roll call to be taken. Yawning, Percy smacked his lips and looked around, wishing he’d used the ride over to get some sleep.

There were a little over sixty total students. The woman in the labcoat, who seemed to be the Life Foundation’s public relations employee, was looking at the Midtown kids. Next to her, one of the guards looked at the sky, like he was expecting rain. The other scratched his cheek, watching the tourists going past. Both of them had pistols strapped to their hip.

It was clear to see how the Life Foundation’s headquarters had turned into a tourist attraction even though entry was limited to official personnel and lucky school trips. The covered bridge extended a few hundred feet into Hudson, leading to an island with a tree-ringed shore. A multi-level white building constructed in a brutalist style was visible in the center. That was the Life Foundation’s main laboratory, constructed on a man-made island designed specifically to accommodate it.

The bridge to the island had glass windows running along the sides, making it more like an above-ground tunnel than a traditional bridge. It had lights along the underside which would shine once it got dark. Pictures of the bridge lit up in purple, black, red, and gold were some of the most popular postcards to send home from the city.

Right now, it just looked like a glass bridge. Andrew nudged Percy’s ribs with his elbow. 

“They say Tony Stark funded that,” he whispered.

“Funded what, the island?” Percy asked. “Why would he do that?”

“Um, for science reasons, duh,” Andrew said. “The Life Foundation does all kinds of things. Like physics, and biology, and technology…”

“You’re just naming kinds of science,” Percy said. “You don’t actually know what they do, do you?”

“Yeah, ‘cause it's all secret,” Andrew said. “Nobody really knows. But they say Stark Industries set it up, so that they’d keep Tony’s work going when he was gone.”

“The Life Foundation cannot comment on any links between ourselves and the late, great Tony Stark.”

The woman who’d been handling tourists approached them. Her labcoat had a nametag on it calling her Dr. Hernandez. Percy wondered if she was an actual scientist, or if she wore that just to keep the tourists happy. She had curly brown hair and a complexion one shade darker than Percy’s was. Dr. Hernandez smiled at Andrew, making it clear that while she wasn’t confirming what he’d said, she wasn’t denying it either. She went past the two of them and met Mr. Harrington as he climbed out of the bus, shaking his hand with both of hers.

“Why is she kinda…” Andrew said, staring at the woman.

“You get rejected enough asking out girls our age. Don’t shoot your shot with the tour guide.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just commenting on what I see!” Andrew said.

“Uh huh.”

Percy tried to move away from Andrew, already pretty sick of him from the drive over, but Andrew stuck on him like a thumbtack. While Mr. Harrington called attendance, Percy did his best to tune out Andrew whispering to him. Waiting was boring. Unsurprisingly, he started looking around, trying to entertain his flighty attention span.

As soon he looked to his right, Percy’s jaw fell open.

He watched someone a few inches shorter than himself pull a baseball cap over their face. They were wearing a maroon Empire University hoodie and pacing back and forth along the boardwalk. When they saw the Midtown students, they stopped and stared, specifically at MJ and Ned while the two raised their hands and parroted, “Present!”

Peter Parker was here.

Percy stared at him. It was the first time he’d seen Peter since the guy was a celebrity. It felt different, looking at his face instead of the mask. Even though Percy knew they were the same person, watching Spider-Man take down the robot felt like Spider-Man, while this felt like seeing Peter again. It was surreal, even though the two of them had never really been close.

Andrew elbowed Percy.

“Dude,” he whispered. 

Percy realized his classmates were looking at him. Mr. Harrington smiled kindly, which meant that Percy had messed up somehow. The teacher cleared his throat. 

“Percy Jackson?”

“Here,” Percy said.

Mr. Harrington moved down the list. “Teach called your name like eight times,” Andrew said. “Did you know that guy or something?”

“I think we met a while ago,” Percy said. The next time he looked over, Peter was gone. There was no sign of him anywhere.

Slowly, Percy drew his hands out of his pockets. He started to look around, not just to the right and left but up and down, too. Percy chewed the inside of his cheek. 

Dr. Hernandez joined Mr. Harrington and the other chaperones. She raised her voice, easily speaking to the students, telling them to follow her through the gate and describing how the day would be structured. Percy sniffed the air, but didn’t smell anything. The group started moving.

To be cut off from everyone you loved was one of the worst things you could go through. Percy knew that well. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to lose them, knowing the whole time that they were out there. To visit them, see them, and know you had to keep your distance. Was that what Peter was going through? Did he come here just to check on Ned and MJ?

If that was it, why did he leave so fast?

Dr. Hernandez walked up to the gate. She touched it with her thumb, causing the metal to hum. A patch opened up with a glowing green light inside. She leaned forward, putting her eye up to it, allowing the retina to be scanned. Only then did the gate open.

“Wicked,” Andrew whispered.

He wasn’t the only one. Most of the students were starting to get excited. It felt like they were being let in on a secret. Even Charlie was smiling.

When he saw that Percy was looking at him, Charlie turned his head, putting more bodies in between them.

“This bridge was constructed along with the island as a secure way for staff to reach the labs. Although the main building is equipped for overnight stays and features a helicopter pad, the majority of our employees commute by car or subway. Just like your parents!” Dr. Hernandez announced.

She led the students onto the bridge, with Percy’s class bringing up the rear. The roof was made of some light red metal, the walls were glass, and the floor was glass as well, letting you look past your toes at the water underneath. Behind Percy and Andrew, the security came in before the gate closed, following the students onto the bridge.

Percy’s fingers tensed. He turned his head just enough to see, watching the guards follow them. They looked innocent enough. Their weapons were still holstered. But they weren’t talking to each other. The one on the right kept looking through the glass, checking the sky.

“Something’s happening,” Percy said.

“Yeah, in my heart,” Andrew said, staring at Dr. Hernandez through the crowd. 

The first rocket made a geyser of water erupt next to the bridge.

The glass must’ve been the bulletproof kind, because it didn’t fracture as the vibrations hit it. Roughly half of the students fell to their knees, the rest of them covering their heads. As soon as they were up, dozens of teens pressed their faces to the window to look outside. 

Three robots like the one that attacked Percy and Charlie were suspended in the air, the soles of their metal feet breathing fire. Two of them had salvos on their shoulders that released four more rockets. The bridge swayed as water from the Hudson sprayed the windows.

“S-Stay calm!” Mr. Harrington said. “This is nothing I haven’t seen before! We’ll be alright!”

Someone pushed Percy in the back.

“Go! Get to the island!” ordered one of the guards. He and his partner had drawn their weapons. Gods know what those little guns were meant to do against a threat like this. 

It was a stampede to reach the end of the tunnel. Dr. Hernandez and Mr. Harrington tried to keep it orderly, but plenty of students ran past them. On shore, the parking lot had rapidly emptied of people. Bullets tore apart the viewing deck where the classes had taken roll. 

“Spider-Man!” Andrew said.

He got another push from the guards behind them because he tried to stop and watch. Sure enough, the blue-and-red hero used the bottom of the bridge to connect his web, swinging under it and hurling himself at the robot in the middle. He stuck to it and crawled to the back faster than you could blink. The other robots held their fire, refraining from shooting their brother, which gave Spider-Man enough time to yank its head clean off. Unfortunately, even beheaded, it still functioned well enough to grab his arm and hurl him at the water.

Percy was over halfway across the bridge now. The chaos of so many people running in a cramped space was slowing them down. He couldn’t help looking back at the bridge and the parking lot beyond it. From what he could see, the damage was minimal. Most of the live rounds had been dumped directly into the hudson.

“Go!”

Percy got a harder shove from the friendly guard behind him. He might’ve slowed down a little bit, but the main thing he’d been doing was looking back.

Peter swung back into action outside; they saw a blur outside as he flew at the robots. With his webs, he slammed two of them together just as they were about to fire explosives.

The robots fired anyway. Instead of trying to dodge or turning their guns on the hero fighting them, they shot missiles directly at the bridge.

Students screamed. The first half of the bridge was blown apart, letting in humid air and the unfiltered cracks! of gunfire.

The guards were briefly stunned by the loud noise, giving Percy the chance to pause and watch the sky. By stubbornly attacking the bridge, The robots gave Peter an opening to take two of them out of the fight, smashing their torsos together so hard that the propulsion systems failed. As he leaped at the last bot, it took evasive action, flying back and firing at him with two rapid-fire mounted guns.

“We’ll go straight to the lab, everyone! Security systems have already been activated. We promise, your safety is our highest priority!” Dr. Hernandez said. “Once you reach the building, the danger will be over!”

“We have to go to the building,” Percy muttered. “It’s the only place left.”

The bridge was destroyed. Even if there was a helicopter parked and waiting there, it could only carry a handful of people, and would you want to pilot a helicopter past a Robot of Mass Destruction? Swimming that far through the Hudson wasn’t exactly a good option either. 

No one else cared. That made sense— normal teens wouldn’t think about this kind of thing. But when Percy looked back at the guards with their weapons drawn, he couldn’t help thinking that pistols were a lot more threatening to high schoolers than armored robots. Normal high schoolers, at least.

They got to the end of the bridge without any more scares. Peter was still battling the last bot. He’d taken off one of its arms, but it landed a heavy return hit in the process. His suit was still dripping from dragging himself out of the Hudson. 

It was one short sprint to reach the Life Foundation’s front door. Now that there was room to spread out, the combined Midtown High classes could run with a lot less tripping. 

Fifteen seconds— that was how long it took to go from the bridge to the door. Percy and Andrew were the last students to reach the building. In the sky above them, more robots were arriving, though these were more akin to drones than anthropomorphic death machines. Students collapsed on the red nylon carpet of the waiting room. Some of them even cheered as armored coverings descended over the windows, turning the room into a bunker. But Percy couldn’t ignore the finality in the way the door clicked! shut in their wake.

“Way to stay calm everyone.” Dr. Hernandez was the calmest of all; there wasn’t even a tremor in her voice. “I know what we just experienced was terrifying, but I promise you, you’re safe now.”

The guards finally put their pistols away. Maybe that meant Percy had been overthinking everything…

Or maybe, it meant that they’d the lucky lottery winner winner students were exactly where someone wanted them.