Olympus Drive Book 5: Situation Normal

Detective Stamos

I shouldn't blame Thyme for everything. I know that. It's just so often his fault. However, I do realize occasionally it's other people's fault. Thyme just usually encouraged it or gave them the weapon.

"Zag? What are you doing?" it's kind of a rhetorical question, because he's crouching over someone's body and stabbing it while chucking lightly.

"We're having fun," he says, snapping his head up to look at me. Of course we're standing in an alley. Still. I didn't expect him to be butchering people in broad daylight.

"You can't do this---who is this---? Leave it alone," I say, stepping forward, a hand out to stop him from stabbing the body further.

"Go away," he hisses, "We get to have fun. Our dad said we could."

"Oh good you're talking in plural now—okay Zag I don't think your dad meant for you to be murdering someone. You're not allowed to just murder people, Zag. We talked about this  last Wednesday," I sigh.

"But," he looks crestfallen.

"Okay come on. We're taking you to go visit your grandfather," I say. Rhea likes him, which should be saying something but it's not. Rhea likes all of them including this one.

"Noooooo, mean to Zag," he says, hiding behind his twisted sword, Heartbreaker. Don't ask why I know his damn sword's fucking name. Zag is dressed in a crisp black suit, with leather black armor over it. His mismatched eyes glow like those of a cat, with almost slited pupils. One is a deep grey like his mother's, the other a pale, creamy blue edged in black like his father's.

"Nobody is mean to Zag, now come on, leave that body alone while I can still identify it," Jesus Christ this kid. This is what I get for complaining about fucking Thyme and his fucking grenades and fucking gang wars.

"No. Mean to Zag. We are very busy right now and want to go play. Our father said we could have fun with our cousins," he says, holding his sword at ready.

"Your father is not going to be happy you're doing this," as I say it I realize it was the wrong thing to say.

"Then we won't tell him and neither will you," he says, as lightening crackles around the sword.

"Zag, you don't want to do this—," I begin, taking a step back.

"Yes we DO," he giggles, preparing to run me through.

Now, I knew for a fact my .22 was not going to do me any good. And I am quite alone here. Rhea went to supervise the kids. I was finding Thyme who doesn't usually try to kill me. So I'm alone, and I'm well aware Zag has the power not only to kill me, but imprison me in Tartarus, torturing me for weeks before anyone (Rhea) found me.

"Stop---I have this," I pull a rock from my pocket. It's not just a rock. Rhea gave it to me years ago. It has a symbol carved on it. He told me it was for protection. I'm hoping that wasn't metaphorical.

"What good do you think that little thing's going to do you? Against us?" Zag laughs, flashing bright white, pointed teeth. This one really is more monster human.

"I honestly don't know, but I didn't have any other cards to play," I say, holding out the rock still just in case it will do something.

"Huh. Okay. Nice try anyway, if you would please when we see you in the pit, tell us what it was like to be impaled? Mmhmm, thanks," he says, preparing to run me through.

And that is how I find out that my last words probably would have been 'of course it explodes'. Because, of course, before his blade can get anywhere near me, the entire rock explodes in a ball of black light, sending us both flying backward, me into the street, him into a building.

What puzzles me about the rock is, this is not the first life threatening situation I've been in since Rhea gave it to  me. Not by a long shot. Oh well. I don't have time to worry about that. My back is probably broken.

I sit up, painfully.

"Chiron? How did you get here?" I ask, pushing the big happy dog away as he licks my face and slaps me with a huge paw. "What--- did your master send you?"

The dog takes a hold of my arm and tugs.

"Fine," I stand up, staggering a little. One leg feels broken. Damn. I look around. Zag is nowhere to be seen. Too much to hope that thing sent him back to the pit? Yeah, probably.

"Okay, fine, I'm coming," I say, as the dog circles me happily, "I need to give a mission report anyway. Zag is loose."