IT ALL WENT WRONG IN PHILADELPHIA. It turned out the nickname "Broad Street Bullies" didn't come just from Philly's NHL team, but from the overabundance of grumpy Laestrygonians that roamed the streets.

Alex dodged a low tree branch. It stung his cheek as the end of it bit into his skin as he sprinted past. He never wanted to see Philadelphia again. True, he hadn't expected smooth sailing all the way to Washington, DC, but it had been going so well. Just, so well.

The Grey Sisters' taxi had taken them to the outskirts of Manhattan. They didn't hear a peep from monsters in the greater New York City area. From there, they'd bussed south. While being squashed in a bus hadn't been the most comfortable way to travel, it had been safe.

Ophelia had napped. Kitty just ate fruit chews. Alex had watched the world go by. Mostly that meant concrete, commuter cars, and massive eighteen-wheelers as they sped up and down I-95. Then they'd hit Philly.

When the first Laistrygonian had turned towards them at the bus stop, Alex briefly thought he was some disgruntled Philadelphian tired of hearing New Yorkers infiltrating their city. But then he'd seen the teeth, and the truly disgusting haircut, and known they were screwed. Especially when the Laistrygonian whistled and five more ogre-like monsters stood up out of the crowd.

So he'd grabbed Ophelia and Kitty and just started running. As Alex dodged yet another tree root, he cursed the city of brotherly love. It seemed as though they hadn't stopped running since.

They kept I-95 in sight. Alex had guided him best he could through forests and fields and little rural towns too small for monsters to care about. 48 hours ago, they'd left Camp Half-Blood to zero fanfare and much lamenting.

48 hours later, Alex sprinted through a forest just north of Baltimore, hellhounds nipping at his heels. He could hear Ophelia and Kitty up ahead. He made them go first. Ophelia couldn't do much but swing her dagger during the day, and Kitty, while handy with a sword when necessary, had never been the best at melee combat. So Alex let the dogs breathe down his neck. It wasn't the first time hellhounds tried to kill him. And he guessed it wouldn't be the last.

Early morning light and the blood of Hermes guided his footing. He clasped Vindication in his hand, still in bracelet form. Howling and pounding paws sounded behind him. He'd hoped the trees would slow the dogs down. But it didn't seem to do much.

Alex stumbled. He cursed as he fell to the ground, throwing his hands out to slow his fall. His face met leaf litter and stones. It took a moment for the air to refill his lungs. Baying of hounds and gnashing teeth grew closer and closer. Alex felt himself shaking. He had more to live for now than he ever had in the Battle of Manhattan. But his muscles wouldn't respond. Not quickly.

He rolled onto his back. A black hound's fanged face blocked out the trees and sky above. Where its tar-like drool fell, his skin sizzled and burned. Alex screamed in anger. Channeling every drop of fury in his body, he summoned Vindication as a sword. The shining celestial bronze blade sliced straight up through the hellhound baring down on top of him.

Alex scrambled up. Anger and adrenaline fueled every movement. He had a job to do. He had children to save. He had to make Luke proud, do what he had been unable to achieve.

Three more massive shadow hounds charged through the trees. He reached behind his head for an arrow. He grabbed empty air.

Ophelia had the extra supplies. Of course, she did. She'd wanted to organize them. Alex cursed. He turned and ran. He didn't want to deal with three hellhounds in the trees. No amount of drachmas or weighted dice to finally beat Kitty in gambling could convince him otherwise.

He couldn't see the girls anymore. That was either a good thing or a bad thing. He didn't know which. Kitty was there, so probably a good thing. Hopefully. Unless her luck had finally run out.

Leaping over rocks and skidding past fallen trees, Alex just focused on reaching a clearing. Anywhere open. Anywhere these beasts couldn't sneak up on him.

The trees began to thin. Lungs heaving, Alex pushed forward. He ignored the blood dripping from his cheek from the fall. He focused on getting to safety.

Safety? Alex almost laughed. But the sight of a clear beach and open water, a lake of some kind, forced him to refocus his mind. Time to get serious. Sulfuric stench filled his nostrils. He spun back around at the water's edge.

Alex slammed Vindication into the closest hellhound. Smaller than the rest, it didn't stand a chance. Ash fell to the ground as two more closed in on him. They tried to flank. Alex snarled back at one. Backing up, he ignored how uncomfortable his shoes felt absorbing the water.

"Come on, then," he said. "Afraid to get wet?"

It worked. Neither eight-foot-tall hellhound wanted to appear in shin deep water. He could keep them in front. Keep them ahead. Alex shifted the sword in his hand. The lake restricted his movement, but speed wouldn't save him here. Not if the hellhounds could get behind him.

Alex glanced past the pacing, snarling dogs. He ignored the water around his legs. Or tried to, anyway. He knew he'd regret soaking his shoes later. But he had to kill these two before worrying about that. Where was Percy Jackson when you needed him? Really could've used him as a blowdryer again.

The dog on the right paused. It perked up, looking down the shore. Alex followed its gaze. His heart sunk. He could see Kitty and Ophelia just as the former cut down a small hellhound. They stayed back to back, the morning sun casting long shadows down the pebble and sand beach. Alex's two hellhounds tore off towards them.

He screamed. He couldn't tell if he'd shouted to refocus the hellhounds or to warn Kitty and Ophelia. But it did both. One of the two dogs halted just as Alex slashed its flank. It disintegrated. The other kept running. He couldn't keep up, water-logged shoes holding him back.

Kitty and Ophelia raised their weapons: celestial bronze and stygian iron. He almost let himself breathe. Surely they could handle one hellhound between the two of them. But in a flash, the final hellhound unaccounted for appeared behind them. Alex's heart almost stopped.

They'd have to handle one of the two. Vindication morphed into the magical wing-shaped recurve bow, a single, pure celestial bronze arrow notched on the metal string no thicker than a strand of hair. Controlling his breathing, Alex channeled every lesson from Chiron he'd ever had, every moment in battle he'd been forced to learn from on the fly. Time slowed. He watched Kitty and Ophelia flank the larger one that had been chasing Alex.

The arrow whistled as it flew from his bow. With a thunk, it buried itself in the shoulder of the final hellhound. Alex fell to his knees in exhaustion as it faded back to Tartarus. Vindication slipped from his grasp, landing on the gravel beach as a bracelet. He tasted blood as it dripped into the corner of his mouth from his cheekbone.

Alex never wanted to see another dog as long as he lived.

Looking up, he waited for Ophelia and Kitty to join him. He didn't want to move. He just looked out over the lake, Lock Raven Reservoir based on the massive dam-like structure allowing just some of the water down into the lake from an unseen river above. Another few hours and they'd reach the outskirts of downtown Baltimore. Hopefully. Provided they'd seen the last of the hellhounds.

"You're bleeding," Ophelia said, skidding down beside him. "Do you need ambrosia?"

Alex ran a hand over his face and through his hair. He shifted off his knees onto his backside. "I need a bandaid and sleep for a week." He didn't protest as she wiped the blood off his face.

"How far to the city?" Kitty asked. She picked up the caduceus bracelet and examined it for a moment. Passing it over she said, "Nice shot, by the way."

"I hit its shoulder," Alex said. "Kayla would be so disappointed in me."

"Well, you aren't a son of Apollo," said Ophelia.

Alex made a face. "No. But if he's listening." He glanced up at the sky where the sun steadily climbed. "Hey! If you want your gods' damned lyre back, dry my shoes off!"

No response. Kitty tried not to laugh. She failed. Within moments, all three of them were laughing hysterically on the shore of Loch Raven Reservoir, Alex laying on his back while the girls sat beside him. He didn't want to move. His sides hurt from battle and from laughter, now.

But Ophelia tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. We've got a job to do."

He groaned. Alex refused to open his eyes. "Just three more minutes, O."

When she didn't respond, he guessed he'd won. Maybe he looked worse than he thought, that both Kitty and Ophelia were willing to sit out in the sun. His body ached. He guessed dark bruises had formed across his side from where he'd stumbled into a half-wall the day before.

They only had limited ambrosia though. Ophelia had emptied all three of their questing backpacks that morning, intent on taking a full inventory of what was at their disposal. Five pieces of Ambrosia each, two doses of nectar in tiny glass vials, seven orange bandaids, sixteen celestial bronze tipped arrows, a spare camp shirt and an extra normal tee, a roll of duct tape per, and a road atlas. They each also had a wallet with 25 drachmas and a hundred dollars in cash, courtesy of Kitty's gambling fund.

They'd only just begun repacking it when the hellhounds had ambushed them. He didn't want to ask Ophelia how much she and Kitty had managed to grab before running. He'd been too busy fending off seven hellhounds to help. And then they'd just run.

Alex liked running. He excelled at it. But he liked running towards danger, where could keep track of what was going on and how much he could handle. Running away from it sucked. It meant turning his back, exposing weak spots, trusting in his speed to carry him away. Plus it felt like retreating. Alex didn't like retreating.

"We gotta go, Alex," Kitty said. She didn't sound particularly apologetic. But she rarely did. "Every minute we wait-"

"I know, I know."

He opened his eyes and sat back up. Blinking back at the sun, he wondered if it had gotten a bit brighter. Hilarious, Apollo. After wringing out his socks and letting Ophelia put a bandaid over the cut on his cheek, he stood ready to go. Vindication sat on his wrist again. Alex looked down at it glinting in the sun. A beautiful shackle from a father who decided to care too late. But if it kept Ophelia and Kitty alive, he'd deal with it.

"Ready?" Alex said.

They both nodded. Another few hours of walking lay ahead before they could hope to duck inside somewhere not as blisteringly hot. Who knew Maryland felt like such a sauna in August? He certainly hadn't.

"You squeak when you walk now," Kitty said a moment later.

Alex bit his cheek to stop from either snapping at her or laughing. He wanted to do both. Ophelia just snickered. Water seeped between his toes. Really could've used Percy. They had the dogs under control, but he didn't even want to think about the blisters and sores he'd get from hiking in wet shoes and socks. So he just kept his mind on the task ahead. Baltimore, then DC, then gods only know. Except in Alex's experience, they probably didn't know either.