Chapter 11: Percy Jackson versus a Monster That Is Running Away

The alarm conch went off at eleven forty-seven in the morning, which was the wrong time for everything.

Percy had learned to read the conch the way sailors read weather — not just whether it sounded but how it sounded, how many blasts, how fast, whether there was a pause in the middle that meant the person blowing it had needed to stop and look at something before continuing. One blast meant drill. Two meant verified contact at the perimeter. Three meant confirmed breach, all campers to defensive positions.

This was three blasts. Then a pause. Then one more, which was not a code Percy recognized, which meant whoever was blowing the conch had run out of codes and was improvising.