The fall took 142 seconds.
Annabeth Counted.
Well, part of her brain did, the rest was elsewhere; worrying about the attack on Camp Half-Blood, Percy, the pain in her foot, Percy, the others, Percy, Percy and Percy.
As the inky blackness of below (whatever below was) engulfed her, Annabeth didn't despair about her luck (even though it'd been gods-damned awful) because she had Percy. Even if she had the choice to send him safe to Camp Jupiter and herself to Camp Half-Blood, she wouldn't have. Because they were together and, even descending into the pits of Tartarus, that was enough.
