His clothes were torn, burned, and splattered with monster slime. He’d eaten whatever he could scrounge-vending machine gummi bears, stale bagels, even a Jack in the Crack burrito, which was a new personal low. They never seemed to stay dead longer than that. How long since he’d last killed them? Maybe two hours. He reached the top of the hill and caught his breath. No matter how many times Percy killed them and watched them crumble to powder, they just kept re-forming like large evil dust bunnies. They definitely should have died this morning when he cut off their heads in Tilden Park.
They should have died two days ago when he ran over them with a police car in Martinez.
They should have died three days ago when he dropped a crate of bowling balls on them at the Napa Bargain Mart. THE SNAKE-HAIRED LADIES WERE starting to annoy Percy.
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