"So, at this rate, we should be in South Dakota by…three weeks?" I ask doubtfully, checking the maps again. Luke's hand traces our route carefully. "Seems right. Maybe four and a half, if we don't hurry fast enough."

I nod, marking the spot where the St. James River should be. Three weeks wasn't all that bad, considering how far away we were. "Do you think the safe house is still-"

"Shh." Luke says suddenly, holding a hand up. "I heard something." I stay silent, but hear nothing. "Really?" I ask hesitantly. "Yeah, don't you feel that?" he says, regarding me questionably. I shake my head. I catch his nervous glance even though he turns so I won't. "But Luke, it's umm, fine because…well, you are the…feely one." I tell him, trying to compromise. He turns to look at me, smiling teasingly. "The feely one?" he asks sarcastically. I laugh, hitting his shoulder half heartedly. "Shut up…"

"No, wait," he begins, still smirking, "If I'm the feely one, what does that make you?"

"The one who's willing to say stupid things to make you feel better." I laugh, pulling my jacket on. He laughs to and helps me up. "Let's go check it out at least." He says resolutely. "You mean, before it checks us out, whatever it is?" I answer. He nods, checking his belt for his knife. I don't need to. I quickly flick my wrist and feel the cold silver fall back on my skin. I shiver, picking up my spear. It's getting colder, it being January and all. At least, I think it's January…

Luke walks us up the old alleys with caution. I look around. Solid, brick buildings, ivy crawling up along their walls. Abandoned, no doubt. I walk slowly to avoid causing noise with the million pieces of litter strewn all over the ground. What ground I can see is concrete, cold and a dirty, ashy gray. Since it's still early, a light fog surrounds us, making the place ten times creepier. Wait, what was that? Laughing? Jason! I stop suddenly, turning to find where the sound has come from. Silence. What the hell? But, but I could swear I heard his l-

No, Thalia, stop it now, it's fine, it's not your fault, no, not your fault. I repeat silently. I look ahead, up at Luke.

His blonde hair. I force myself to look away immediately. No, I couldn't think about it, I just couldn't…

"Ahh," my voice catches in my throat before I can stop it, a horrible choked sound. Luke turns, worried. "You okay?"

I exhale again, not meeting his eyes. "Fine." I manage. He's obviously not convinced, but whatever. The sooner we leave the better. I walk up to his side and walk faster. "Stop. It's right there." He whispers, catching my wrist. "What?" I murmur. He tilts his head towards the docks, and I vaguely catch the sharp scent of salt water. I follow his gaze. "That shack…thing?" I ask him, sure he's kidding. It's a stack of boxes, a tiny little space, covered with a thin wall of tin.

It's shaking.