The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(19)

“I know,” Annabeth said. “You’d better have something good planned for dinner.”

The cab dropped us off on West 15th. The streets were bustling with a mix of sidewalk vendors, workers, shoppers, and tourists. Why a place called the Meatpacking District was suddenly a hot area to hang out, I wasn’t sure. But that’s the cool thing about New York. It’s always changing. Apparently even monsters wanted to stay here.

We made our way to the construction site. Two police officers stood at the intersection, but they didn’t pay us any attention as we turned up the sidewalk and then doubled back, ducking behind the barricades.

The hole in the street was about the size of a garage door. Pipe scaffolding hung over it with a sort of winch system, and metal climbing rungs had been fastened into the side of the pit, leading down.

“Ideas?” I asked Annabeth.

I figured I’d ask. Being the daughter of the goddess of wisdom and strategy, Annabeth likes making plans.

“We climb down,” she said. “We find the giant. We get the caduceus.”

“Wow,” I said. “Both wise and strategic.”

“Shut up.”

We climbed over the barricade, ducked under the police tape, and crept toward the hole. I kept a wary eye on the police, but they didn’t turn around. Sneaking into a dangerous steaming pit in the middle of a New York intersection proved disturbingly easy.

We descended. And descended.

The rungs seemed to go down forever. The square of daylight above us got smaller and smaller until it was the size of a postage stamp. I couldn’t hear the city traffic anymore, just the echo of trickling water. Every twenty feet or so, a dim light flickered next to the ladder, but the descent was still gloomy and creepy.

I was vaguely aware that the tunnel was opening up behind me into a much larger space, but I stayed focused on the ladder, trying not to step on Annabeth’s hands as she climbed below me. I didn’t realize we’d reached the bottom until I heard Annabeth’s feet splash.

“Holy Hephaestus,” she said. “Percy, look.”

I dropped next to her in a shallow puddle of muck. I turned and found that we were standing in a factory-sized cavern. Our tunnel emptied into it like a narrow chimney. The rock walls bristled with old cables, pipe, and lines of brickwork—maybe the foundations of old buildings. Busted water pipes, possibly old sewer lines, sent a steady drizzle of water down the walls, turning the floor muddy. I didn’t want to know what was in that water.

There wasn’t much light, but the cavern looked like a cross between a construction zone and a flea market. Scattered around the cave were crates, toolboxes, pallets of timber, and stacks of steel pipe. There was even a bulldozer half-sunken in the mud.

Even stranger: several old cars had somehow been brought from the surface, each filled with suitcases and mounds of purses. Racks of clothing had been carelessly tossed around like somebody had cleaned out a department store. Worst of all, hanging from meat hooks on a stainless steel scaffold was a row of cow carcasses—skinned, gutted, and ready for butchering. Judging from the smell and the flies, they weren’t very fresh. It was almost enough to make me turn vegetarian, except for the pesky fact that I loved cheeseburgers.

No sign of a giant. I hoped he wasn’t home. Then Annabeth pointed to the far end of the cave. “Maybe down there.”

Leading into the darkness was a twenty-foot-diameter tunnel, perfectly round, as if made by a huge snake. Oh…bad thought.

I didn’t like the idea of walking to the other side of the cave, especially through that flea market of heavy machinery and cow carcasses.

“How did all this stuff get down here?” I felt the need to whisper, but my voice echoed anyway.

Annabeth scanned the scene. She obviously didn’t like what she saw. “They must’ve lowered the bulldozer in pieces and assembled it down here,” she decided. “I think that’s how they dug the subway system a long time ago.”

“What about the other junk?” I asked. “The cars and, um, meat products?”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Some of it looks like street vendor merchandise. Those purses and coats…the giant must’ve brought them down here for some reason.” She gestured toward the bulldozer. “That thing looks like it’s been through combat.”

As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I saw what she meant. The machine’s caterpillar treads were busted. The driver’s seat was charred to a crisp. In the front of the rig, the big shovel blade was dented as if it had run into something…or been punched.

The silence was eerie. Looking up at the tiny speck of daylight above us, I got vertigo. How could a cave this big exist under Manhattan without the city block collapsing, or the Hudson River flooding in? We had to be hundreds of feet below sea level.

What really disturbed me was that tunnel on the far side of the cave.

I’m not saying I can smell monsters the way my friend Grover the satyr can. But suddenly I understood why he hated being underground. It felt oppressive and dangerous. Demigods didn’t belong here. Something was waiting down that tunnel.

I glanced at Annabeth, hoping she had a great idea—like running away. Instead, she started toward the bulldozer.

We’d just reached the middle of the cave when a groan echoed from the far tunnel. We ducked behind the bulldozer just as the giant appeared from the darkness, stretching his massive arms.