"Woe to the inhibitors of the earth and of the sea!
For the Devil has come down unto you, having great wrath,
Because he knoweth that he hath but a short time."
-Revelation 12:12
-Ω-
It was at this moment that New York City looked like the grave that it was; during the day, one could just assume that there'd been some form of terrorist attack and all of the people had simply been evacuated or relocated, and at night the city seemed to be asleep. But here, in this snowy hush, Frank knew that there was no one.
The pavement was blanketed with white, lumpy in places where it had covered the bodies, and Frank tried to tiptoe around them as best as he could, but he swore he stepped on an arm or a finger once or twice. The snow crunched under his boots, and if he'd been in any other situation, he would've been elated; this was great packing snow, but all he could really think about was how easily it would be to be buried under it.
Blackjack marched beside him, his bleached-white coat blending in with the surroundings, and Frank found it unnerving that he wasn't able to keep track of him out of the corner of his eye.
"I can walk," Percy insisted from Blackjack's back, picking at the ropes that kept their supply bags in place.
"No, you can't," Frank bit out through chattering teeth, rubbing his hands together as if that would somehow make his fingers capable of feeling sensation. "You don't even have shoes."
"I can handle it," the patient insisted, and Frank wondered why he was complaining; he didn't have to walk, but then again, walking was probably the only thing that was keeping Frank warm at the moment.
The sky was still clouded over, but the only bits of snow that were falling were the flakes that were swept up by the wind, which battered their faces mercilessly. It was bitterly cold, and Frank felt his nose and cheeks turning bright red as the chill nipped at them, and his three layers of I Heart NY hoodies did little to keep the cold from seeping in. His legs were even worse, what with the only barrier between his skin and the wintry air being his jeans, and he was pretty sure that his toes were going to fall off.
The only one who didn't seem the slightest bit uncomfortable was Blackjack, who they'd draped with blankets in hopes that he wouldn't freeze to death.
"It's super creepy," Percy murmured, bundling himself even further into his layers of NYC memorabilia. "To think that this city used to never sleep."
"Well it looks like it finally collapsed from exhaustion," Frank murmured, fighting against a particularly violent gust. "You have the map?" Percy nodded, removing his hands from his pockets and retrieving a worn, laminated map of Manhattan. He squinted down at it and turned to eye the nearest street sign, which was nearly invisible amidst all the falling snow.
"Right now we're on West 34th Street," he said, and the two of them simultaneously turned to see the decrepit skeleton of the Empire State Building off to their right, the antennae having broken off and chunks of the framework missing. It wouldn't be long before it fell just like the rest, and Frank picked up the pace a little as they passed right next to it, in case it decided to collapse right on top of him. "So we have to keep going until we hit the Hudson River Greenway, then we make a right and head for the Lincoln Tunnel."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Frank stopped in his tracks, making a 'time-out' gesture with his hands, whose fingers were starting to develop frostnip, and Percy pulled Blackjack to a halt. "The Lincoln Tunnel?"
"Yes, the Lincoln Tunnel. What other tunnel could I possibly be talking about?" Percy scoffed, making a move to start going again, but Frank grabbed his calf before he could press Blackjack forwards again.
"Percy, that's beyond dangerous. I'm not risking it," Frank snapped.
"Well how are we supposed to get off of this damn island, then?" Percy demanded, scowling. "I'm sure as hell not going all the way to Brooklyn, crossing the most likely unstable Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, trekking across Staten Island, and then crossing the Gothels Bridge just to get to the mainland."
"Would you rather get crushed by thousands of gallons of water crashing on top of you?" Frank hissed. "No, I'm not going to the Lincoln Tunnel."
"We'll be fine," Percy insisted, and before Frank could argue any further, he'd kicked Blackjack into a trot, forcing Frank to jog and catch up.
-Ω-
"It's not flooded, see? It looks like our perfect escape from the city."
"It looks like a death trap."
"What are you so worried about?" Percy inquired, dismounting from Blackjack and starting forwards in nothing but his many layers of socks, making Frank cringe with every step. "It's been holding up for all this time. Are we just that unlucky that it'll collapse right when we're in it?"
"We did survive the apocalypse, didn't we?" Frank bellowed, his anger suddenly spiking at Percy's audacity to challenge his gut instincts, and his hands balled into fists. "How much more unlucky do we need to be?" Percy raised his hands in surrender and took off once more, and I was shocked at how Blackjack was able to follow him without assistance, his ears rotating as he pinpointed Percy's exact location using nothing but hearing.
Frank let out a heavy breath, running his hands through his hair, and a part of him was contemplating taking a portion of the supplies and sending Percy and Blackjack on their merry way while he traveled back into the city to tough it out. His numb fingers and toes told a different story, though, and when Frank thought about the silence and loneliness that would ensue after the first couple of weeks, he decided that it would be worth it to take the risk. It was better to be crushed like a soda can under the pressure of the Hudson River than to slowly freeze to death while slowly going insane from lack of human contact. Frank wondered how he'd managed to get by during those first few months.
His heart jackhammering in his chest, he hesitantly made his way over to the yawning expanse of blackness that was the maw of the Lincoln Tunnel. Without the rumble of traffic, he could hear the sound of the Hudson churning if he strained his ears hard enough, and his hands began to shake as Percy rummaged through the bags on Blackjack and produced two of the many cheap flashlights they owned, as well as his pair of flip-flops, which he slipped on (with difficulty) over his sock-clad feet.
"You ready?" the green-eyed boy asked, handing Frank a flashlight, and the survivor could the ex-patient's voice echoing in the tunnel like an insistent child repeating himself:
You ready?
You ready?
You ready?
"As I'll ever be," Frank lied, unable to keep the quiver out of his voice, and with that, they set off into the darkness beyond.
They were only three feet into the tunnel when they were forced to turn on their flashlights, and with blood roaring in his ears, Frank began to maneuver around the cars that were crammed like sardines into the many lanes of the underground road.
Frank was glad that it wasn't summer, because in that case he'd probably suffocate on the smell of rotting corpses. The cold had smothered and perhaps temporarily halted the decay process of the drivers and passengers in the cars, and Frank tried to ignore their wide, unseeing eyes that seemed to follow him wherever he moved. Blackjack was having a difficult time squeezing through the small spaces, and Frank could see the horse's ears laying back as he was undoubtedly affected by the claustrophobia, but Percy reassured him, speaking to him like he was upholding a conversation, which was kind of unnerving, since Frank only got to hear bits and pieces of it.
"Don't worry, we're almost there."
"No, I'm not lying, trust me."
"Yeah, but-"
"I understand."
Frank decided to let Percy do his weird little thing, because he was doing a great job in keeping the horse calm. Blackjack was lucky that he was blind, though, because the rats in the tunnel were running rampant. Frank felt nauseated as he saw glimpses of their tails as they scurried away, and some of the drivers of the cars had been nibbled at. Frank shivered as he saw the shady silhouette of a baby seat in the back of a minivan, and quickly averted his gaze.
Their footsteps sounded like gunshots, especially the clopping of Blackjack's hooves, and Frank's spine was wound as tightly as a bowstring, his eyes darting around as if expecting monsters to leap at him from the dark. Every new sound made him jump five feet in the air, whether it be the pitter-patter of a small leak or the scratching around of rats in their nests. At least it was warmer down here, when they were out of the wind, but that one small blessing was smothered by the fact that he knew there were millions of gallons of water above him, slowly pushing down on the roof of the tunnel and coaxing it into cracking.
They walked for a while, and Frank became more and more anxious as time progressed. Percy was still chatting away with Blackjack, and Frank was so terrified that he was afraid if he opened his mouth, a scream would come out. His flashlight lingered over one of those stupid stick figure families on the rear windshield, but he couldn't find it in himself to make fun of it as he swallowed around the lump in his throat, grimacing. The stick figure family only smiled back at him, and tears pricked his eyes as he forced himself to move on.
"I miss the movies," Percy said suddenly, his gaze still straight ahead as he spoke. Frank contemplated what to say, but the ex-patient continued, "This is all like a movie, you know? Like I Am Legend or The Day After Tomorrow."
"Except this is real," Frank murmured, grimacing as a rat corpse squished under his boot.
"Yeah," Percy whispered, the beam of his flashlight crossing with Frank's. "But I sometimes think that a director or something will yell 'cut!' and then this'll all be over."
"Don't get your hopes up," Frank replied, finally able to wiggle his toes again. "If this is a movie or a TV show or whatever, then it's not a happy one, or a hopeful one. There aren't any more people left like in the Walking Dead, and there's no saving the world like in Independence Day. It's just us, and these are the cards that we've been dealt. It's a fucking terrible hand, and Life is kicking our asses in this game, but it's all we have."
They lapsed into silence after that, and after an hour or two, they emerged in New Jersey, thus beginning their trek south.
-Ω-
(A/N) Thank you so much for the support on this story. I've been getting some questions on whether or not there will be pairings, and I'm going to tell you guys that I'm not really sure. I'm going to tell you now that the main characters in this story will be Percy, Frank, Jason, and Nico, and unless you guys want me to do a non-cannon pairing, there will most likely be no relationships.Also, I have to commend you guys on your theories, which are really fun to read, but I'm not going to tell you whether or not they're true.