The Sea of Monsters Read Free Page B

shoulder.
    “Corey!” I screamed.
    Tyson pulled him out from behind the exercise mat just as the ball exploded against it, blasting the mat to smoking shreds.
    “Run!” I told my teammates. “The other exit!”
    They ran for the locker room, but with another wave of Joe Bob’s hand, that door also slammed shut.
    “No one leaves unless you’re out!” Joe Bob roared. “And you’re not out until we eat you!”
    He launched his own fireball. My teammates scattered as it blasted a crater in the gym floor.
    I reached for Riptide, which I always kept in my pocket, but then I realized I was wearing gym shorts. I had no pockets. Riptide was tucked in my jeans inside my gym locker. And the locker room door was sealed. I was completely defenseless.
    Another fireball came streaking toward me. Tyson pushed me out of the way, but the explosion still blew me head over heels. I found myself sprawled on the gym floor, dazed from smoke, my tie-dyed T-shirt peppered with sizzling holes. Just across the center line, two hungry giants were glaring down at me.
    “Flesh!” they bellowed. “Hero flesh for lunch!” They both took aim.
    “Percy needs help!” Tyson yelled, and he jumped in front of me just as they threw their balls.
    “Tyson!” I screamed, but it was too late.
    Both balls slammed into him . . . but no . . . he’d caught them. Somehow Tyson, who was so clumsy he knocked over lab equipment and broke playground structures on a regular basis, had caught two fiery metal balls speeding toward him at a zillion miles an hour. He sent them hurtling back toward their surprised owners, who screamed, “BAAAAAD!” as the bronze spheres exploded against their chests.
    The giants disintegrated in twin columns of flame—a sure sign they were monsters, all right. Monsters don’t die. They just dissipate into smoke and dust, which saves heroes a lot of trouble cleaning up after a fight.
    “My brothers!” Joe Bob the Cannibal wailed. He flexed his muscles and his Babycakes tattoo rippled. “You will pay for their destruction!”
    “Tyson!” I said. “Look out!”
    Another comet hurtled toward us. Tyson just had time to swat it aside. It flew straight over Coach Nunley’s head and landed in the bleachers with a huge KA-BOOM!
    Kids were running around screaming, trying to avoid the sizzling craters in the floor. Others were banging on the door, calling for help. Sloan himself stood petrified in the middle of the court, watching in disbelief as balls of death flew around him.
    Coach Nunley still wasn’t seeing anything. He tapped his hearing aid like the explosions were giving him interference, but he kept his eyes on his magazine.
    Surely the whole school could hear the noise. The headmaster, the police, somebody would come help us.
    “Victory will be ours!” roared Joe Bob the Cannibal. “We will feast on your bones!”
    I wanted to tell him he was taking the dodgeball game way too seriously, but before I could, he hefted another ball. The other three giants followed his lead.
    I knew we were dead. Tyson couldn’t deflect all those balls at once. His hands had to be seriously burned from blocking the first volley. Without my sword . . .
    I had a crazy idea.
    I ran toward the locker room.
    “Move!” I told my teammates. “Away from the door.”
    Explosions behind me. Tyson had batted two of the balls back toward their owners and blasted them to ashes.
    That left two giants still standing.
    A third ball hurtled straight at me. I forced myself to wait—one Mississippi, two Mississippi—then dove aside as the fiery sphere demolished the locker room door.
    Now, I figured that the built-up gas in most boys’ locker rooms was enough to cause an explosion, so I wasn’t surprised when the flaming dodgeball ignited a huge WHOOOOOOOM!
    The wall blew apart. Locker doors, socks, athletic supporters, and other various nasty personal belongings rained all over the gym.
    I turned just in time to see Tyson punch Skull Eater in the