The Heir of Olympus and the Forest Realm Read Free

muttered. Just then he heard footsteps running down the hall behind them.
    “Gordie! Bridget! Thank God! Are you two all right?” It was their English teacher, Ms. Hannigan. She appeared unscathed.
    “We’re okay,” Bridget answered. “There are some students in room 106 that are injured, but most of them are . . .” her words trailed off. Ms. Hannigan looked at Gordie for confirmation and he nodded. He could see anguish in her eyes, but she masked the grief in her voice.
    “Okay. You two go to the auditorium. The school is gathering there. The police are on the way. Tell Mr. Anderson that I need help down here.”
    “No,” Gordie said. “I’ll help you.” She must have seen the determination in his eyes because she chose not to argue.
    “I’ll go,” said Bridget. Without another word she ran back the way Ms. Hannigan had come. When Bridget was out of sight the English teacher turned back to Gordie.
    “Are you sure you’re all right?”
    “I’m fine,” he said, which seemed to appease her as she nodded and reached for the door that he and Bridget were about to enter. When she turned the knob and pushed the door open they were overwhelmed. Gordie could feel the presence of death, almost like a current; it was heavy. Of the twenty students that were in this room when the bell rang that morning only three were still alive. The scene here was almost identical to that of the room Gordie had left just minutes earlier, except that the faces of the dead seemed so much smaller and younger—the difference between ninth and tenth graders.
    In the middle of the room a young boy was lying on the floor with a girl and another boy at his side. The girl was pressing a blood-soaked sweatshirt on the abdomen of the injured student while the other boy looked on, immobilized by fear. Ms. Hannigan rushed to the girl’s aid and Gordie asked the spectating boy if he was all right. He nodded, and Gordie told him he could go to the auditorium. He joined Ms. Hannigan after he sent the boy off.
    “It’s okay, Sarah. You’ve done a great job,” Ms. Hannigan told the girl. “Bobby is going to be fine. Let me stay with him and you go to the auditorium, okay?”
    “No! I need to stay with him,” Sarah said.
    “Okay, okay,” Ms. Hannigan said. “Just keep applying pressure like you’ve been doing. That’s great,” she told Sarah, and then turned to Gordie. “How was there so much damage over here?”
    “Over here?” Gordie asked, baffled. “Was there none on the other side of the school?”
    “There was a little. The earthquake caused some furniture to tip over, but nothing . . . like this.” Her face went slack. She swallowed audibly and assessed the room again.
    “That was no earthquake.” Gordie pulled her from her contemplation. “It was a giant explosion, or eruption, or something. It came from straight east of here. That’s why we got the brunt of the blast, even though it looked like it came from at least a mile or two aw—” Gordie froze. He felt like he had just dived into a frozen lake as he realized, since he first saw the explosion, where it had originated. “ No .”
    “Gordie! Are you okay?!” He heard Ms. Hannigan yelling, but was already sprinting down the hall, sneakers squeaking on the tile. As he tore through the cafeteria startled shrieks reached his ears.
    “Gordie!”
    “What happened?”
    “Was there another explosion?!”
    He didn’t know who asked these questions and didn’t care. His only goal was to get home as fast as possible. Gordie burst out the western doors of the school, dashed between cars and up the second aisle to his Charger. He fumbled for the keys. His hands shook uncontrollably, scratching the paint around the lock repeatedly before finally managing to steady them enough to open the door and turn the ignition.
    He squealed out of the parking lot and began the race home. There were no other cars on the small streets, and he made no effort to obey the laws of the