The last time I saw New York asleep was during the Titan War.

But this one is different. New York is actually in an endless sleep, living a nightmare.

The only light came from fires and the only sounds that resounded through the streets of Manhattan were the groans and moans of the dead.

Annabeth and I just returned from our mini vacation. We just wanted to shake things off from the recent Titan War, to just forget about things for a while.

Annabeth and I went to Montauk, my favorite beach because of my distant memories with my mother and father. Our little moment of relaxation was only

ephemeral; it was interrupted by one of these… things.

For now, Annabeth and I only had each other. We were aiming to make it to camp but the day came to an end and we had to hide for the night. This went on

for several days. Day by day, screams of not-so-lucky survivors echoed in the desolate city. Annabeth told me that these "things" are called zombies; a small-

obsession that her dad had before he looked into wars. She told me that these zombies… wow, that word sounds so strange… these zombies can only be

killed once their brain is shot or beaten out. Normally I would wince at this grotesque image that came into my mind, of crushing someone's head until the

brains spill out, but this was different. You'd understand once you see these things, they're not a pretty sight.

Zombies are dead people who somehow came back to life, so basically their bodies are decaying and being eaten by flies and such as they walk. Their rotting

flesh often fall off their bodies as if they have leprosy and blood, vomit, and recently devoured meat regurgitates from their infinitely gaping mouths. The

zombies' clothes are torn and bloody, and they walk around endlessly. I recently discovered that they can run, well not really run, but maybe drag their feet

around faster and moan louder than ever. They're not that fast, but the real problem is that they don't slow down or ever get tired; they just keep coming and

always hungry for flesh.

Annabeth kept on using her knife and she was pretty good at killing the zombies with no problem. I was another story; I lost my sword so I only used this

aluminum baseball bat that made these kills extremely messy.

How did I lose my sword?

Normally my sword, Riptide or Anaklusmos in Greek, would come back to my pocket in a pen form no matter what so I wouldn't ever lose it. But somehow, since

the apocalypse began, I used it to slash up a zombie and I left it behind because I had no time to pick it up and run, and the sword never came back to me.

Annabeth's baseball cap also stopped giving her invisibility. So I guessed that basically all magic stopped working.

So here we are, hiding in some random apartment with a dead zombie with almost no food because Walmart was overrun by some overweight zombies.

"Hey Annabeth, I'm going to go out to scavenge some food, okay?"

"I'm not going to let you go alone, Seaweed Brain."

Both of us cautiously creaked open the door and tiptoed to the lobby only to run into a very familiar looking zombie. It was the man that was in charge of the

elevator that led up to Mt. Olympus. Oops. Annabeth strode forward and stabbed him in the eye socket, the easiest way to reach the brain, and pulled her

knife back out.

She looked over to me, "Nine."

"C'mon I only have five, can't you share any kills?"

I walked outside and looked around the silent city in the dead night.

"HELP!"

I span towards Annabeth, but she was also turning towards the direction of the voice.

It was some lady that ran as fast as she can down the street towards us with a group of zombies lurching after her. Her heels clicked at a staccato down the

sidewalk. Heels. How foolish.

Just after that thought as if it was a jinx, she tripped, screamed, and faceplanted into the sidewalk. She looked up, face bloody from the fall, "Please…" she

whispered.

Annabeth pulled on my arm, "C'mon, let's go. There's nothing we can do."

I made a choking sound and I kind of whimpered at the grisly scene of her being torn to shreds by the ravenous group of zombies. Warm blood was spilled and

innards were fumbled in the desperate fingers of the dead. Her screams stopped and she stopped struggling. Crunches and slurps intensified as the body was

shredded and devoured. The color red was all I saw.

I really hate zombies.

But then I heard something that I truly hated.

That song, Good Time, by Owl City BLARING through a car's stereo, catching the zombies' attention. I scanned around to identify the source of the music.

It came from a red Mustang, with Grover grinning from ear to ear at us.

A/N: Hi, this is my first time writing fanfiction so reviews would be very helpful and I would greatly appreciate them! Thanks for reading and I hope you look forward for more!