Percy v cacus

My ears were ringing. Her voice still sounded like she was underwater. Wait … under water. I looked up at the tunnel- all those broken pipes embedded in the rock: waterlines, sewer ducts. Being the song of the sea god. I could sometimes control water. I wondered … “I don’t like you!” Cacus yelled. He stalked toward us, smoke pouring from his nostrils. “It’s time to end this.” “Hold on,” I told Annabeth. I wrapped my free hand around her waist. I concentrated on finding water above us. It wasn’t hard. I felt a dangerous amount of pressure in the city’s waterlines, and I summoned it all into the broken pipes. Cacus towered over us, his mouth glowing like a furnace. “Any last words, demigod?” “Look up,” I told him. He did. Note to self: When causing the sewer system of Manhattan to explode, do not stand underneath it. The whole cavern rumbled as a thousand water pipes burst overhead. A not-so-clean waterfall slammed Cacus in the face. I yanked Annabeth out of the way, then leaped back into the edge of the torrent, carrying Annabeth with me. “What are you-?” she made a strangling sound. “Ahhh!” I’d never attempted this before, but I willed myself to travel upstream like a salmon, jumping from current to current as the water gushed into the cavern. If you’ve ever tried running up a wet slide, it was kind of like that, except at a ninth-degree angle and with no side-just water. Far below I heard Cacus bellowing as millions, maybe even thousands of filthy gallons of water slammed into him. Meanwhile Annabeth alternately shouted, gagged, hit me, called me endearing pet names like, “Idiot! Stupid-dirty-moron-” and topped it all off with, “Kill you!” Finally we shot out of the ground atop a disgusting geyser and landed safely on the pavement. Pedestrians and cops backed away, yelling in alarm at our sewafe version of Old Faithful. Brakes screeched and cars rear-ended each other as drivers stopped to watch the chaos. I willed myself dry-a handy trick- but I still smelled pretty bad.

TDD pg.46