"Percy."

Gods, five more minutes, Mom.

"Percy."

Seriously, it's the zombie apocalypse. There is no school.

"Seaweed Brain. Get. Up."

My eyes open to find Annabeth Chase standing over me. Arms crossed. Looking every bit as intimidating as her mother.

"Here." She gives me a handful of Kleenex. "You drool when you sleep."

"Uh, good morning to you too?" Because how else do you respond to something like that. Especially since when I woke her up for her shift, her hair wasn't even messy and I'm pretty sure that mine is sticking up in six different directions. As soon as Annabeth turns around, I swipe at my mouth with the tissue and run a hand through my hair. By the light, I guess that it's early. Against my better judgment I look at the clock. I groan.

"Why, Chase. Why are we up at five a.m.?"

Annabeth just points at the street. I remember her talking a lot more when we were kids. Or maybe she's just that way with me.

The street is still crawling with zombies. And in some cases I mean literally crawling. Some of the zombies are missing legs, arm, half their torso. It's not pretty. Wait, is that guy-That guy's naked. He should not be naked.

"They've been reanimating all night. I guess the virus takes longer to wake up with some people." Annabeth is leaning against the window. She has the look. I tell her so.

"What look?"

"The I'm-Planning-Something-Look."

"I do not have an I'm-Planning-Something-Look, Jackson."

"Just spill, Chase."

Annabeth looks at me. I swear, I can see the gears in her head turning. Can't keep up with them if my life depends on it (and it might very well depend on it), but I can see her analyzing everything. Including me.

Now, don't get me wrong. Normally, a girl like Annabeth paying attention to me would be a good thing. But this is Annabeth. She has this way of looking at you like she's taking all of your pieces apart and putting them back together over and over and over again. She's been like that ever since we were kids. With most girls, I know what they see. With Annabeth? I've been watching her all semester and not once has she looked at me. So excuse me if the attention happens to make me nervous right now.

"Fine, I have a plan. But first, do you still have your phone?"

"Won't do us any good without signal, but yeah."

"C'mon." And she's got her crossbow in one hand, her bag in the other and she's headed out the door. I pick up Mr. Brunner's sword—Anak—Anka—I think he said the Greek translates to RIptide—and follow. Annabeth heads for the stairs, just like I expected. What I don't expect is her going up the stairs.

"Um, outside is that way."

"Roof."

Gotcha.

I am not going to lie. Under different circumstances, sneaking through the school, alone, with Annabeth would not necessarily be a bad thing. But as I mentioned before, she had a crossbow. And there are zombies outside. And I don't want her shoot me. Or feed me to the zombies. So, I stay a very respectful distance from her. Just so she knows I'm not getting any ideas.

Also, I don't want to trip and knock into her and set off the crossbow. That would be epic: Percy Jackson gets shot because he has zero night vision.

We reach the top floor.

"Hold up," is the only way I know not to run right into her.

"Watch the stairs," she says. Like she can see any better than I can. The door creaks as she eases it open. A second later, she calls for me to follow her. It's better outside. We still have a couple of hour until sunrise, but the end of life as we know has not completely conquered the city that never sleeps. New York City is still lit up.

Annabeth holds out her hand. I wrack my brain, trying to figure out what she wants before she smacks me. Thankfully, she looks at the pocket of my jacket and I figure it out before she has to say something. I fish out my phone and give it to her.

"It was a birthday present from my dad," I say when she looks up at me. Technically, the Isis5 isn't out yet. But when you're Poseidon Kronos and your company has that much stock in Hermes Mobile, it's kind of the least you can do. "Stop judging."

Annabeth rolls her eyes and dials.

"Mom?" There is a very long pause. Mrs. Pallas has never struck me as the touchy, feely type. But I can tell by the look on Annabeth's face that her mom is probably giving my mom a run for her money in the worried parent department.

Crap, my mom. She probably thinks I'm dead.

I am SO dead.

"No, I'm still at school. Yes, I'm fine." Nod. Nod. Rolls eyes. "No. Just me and…uh, Percy." Annabeth's face scrunches up, like she's anticipating a lightning strike. Apparently, nothing happens. "Okay. Yeah, okay. Do you think… Mom, I we're on our own over here…No I haven't. Okay. No, I think we can make it. Yeah, love you too."

Annabeth hangs up and hands me the phone.

"She says get off the island. They've got a barricade set up at the Holland Tunnel and they're using that to evacuate people."

"Hold on, I've gotta call my mom." I can see that she already tried to call me. Several times. I think I might be worse than dead. What's worse than dead?

"Jackson…"

"You called yours. I need to call mine." Her line rings. And rings. And keeps ringing until the voicemail picks up. I feel like I've had too much to eat on mystery meat day. The last time I stayed out overnight without telling my mom (totally unintentional, but it did not keep me from getting grounded) I don't think the phone had time to get through a full ring before she picked up and quite calmly told me that she had waited up all night for me. Something was wrong.

In all of this, it never had never occurred to me that my mom might be in trouble.

"Something's wrong," I say.

"She's probably just asleep."

"No. I know my mom."

I think I'm turning green. I feel like I'm turning green. Annabeth puts her hand on my arm as I fight being sick.

"What if—Annabeth, what if…" I can't get it out.

"Percy." She grabs my face. "She is fine. The police have been evacuating all of the burroughs all night. She's probably already left."

I pull her hands away. "You don't know my mom. She wouldn't leave without me. I have to go home or she won't leave." And then a thought hits me. "Or worse, she'll start looking for me."

I'm not thinking about how I would break my neck if fell when I rush down the stairs. I'm not thinking about zombies. Or how I'll get out. I know it's miles in the other direction. And that it's foolish. And that I might end up dead, but I don't think about that.

"Jackson. Jackson!" Annabeth's following me down the stairs. I burst out into the hall on the ground floor. "Percy!"

I stop. She almost runs into me. I catch her as the sudden stop nearly lands her on the floor. The pitch of her voice as she called my name has me expecting fear when I look down at her. I'm right. She doesn't pull away. If anything, she digs her fingers into my skin, trying to make sure I don't run again.

"You can't go out there. Not like this. You won't last ten minutes."

"I have to try Annabeth. If—"

"I know," she says. "I'm going with you." And she lets go of me. Now I'm the one who's ready to fall over.

"But your mom—"

"Told me to stay with you," she said. Annabeth looks out the double doors. Counting the people who used to be alive. "We have a better chance of surviving if we're together, Seaweed Brain."

"You'll help?"

"Of course." She grins. "Now go the cafeteria and get all of the frozen hamburger patties. Meet me back here in ten minutes." She grabs my arm when I turn to go. "We go to your place. We look and if we don't find her we leave. Got it. No more looking. We go straight to Lower Manhattan."

I nod.

I run to the cafeteria. Grabbing one of those metal serving carts, I rush into the freezer and load up all the frozen burgers I can find. Big boxes, with round little slabs of meat wrapped in waxed paper. Trying not to tip the cart I'm back in the main hall before Annabeth's deadline. She appears from the stairwell, wrapping gauze around her hand.

"Gods, what happened?" I reach out and take her hand. A clean straight line crosses the width of her palm. She rearranges the bandage and keeps wrapping.

"Nothing. Grab a box."

She leads me into the stair well. All the doors have been propped open. The metallic scent of blood is in the air. She points at a door and tells me to deposit my box on that floor while she goes one above me. She meets me on the way down. Two trips later, frozen meat is thawing on every floor of our school. We make a stop on the second floor for our stuff. That's when I see the dark smear on the wall.

"Chase, did you?"

I realize that her blood is what I was smelling as I spread meat across the floor.

"Keep up, Jackson." She's break another pane in the door and thrusting her arm through. If there ever was a doubt that Annabeth Chase is the toughest person I know, it's gone now. She sits there for a minute, glass in her arm, letting her blood ooze down the door. Not a sound leaves her lips. Reaching out, I take the her other hand. It's in a fist, but as soon as mine touches hers, she holds on. Squeezing hard.

One of the zombies turns in a motion too quick to be human. His stumbling progress up the stairs draws the attention of others. The group—horde—herd heads for us. Annabeth lets go of my hand and pulls her other arm from the small square just in time. Zombie 1's arm shoots in after her, but she's too quick. She grabs a towel that's been hanging from her back pocket and swipes at her arm. Then she has a fresh roll of gauze and is wrapping it around her arm.

We pull the bench away from the front door. It creaks as zombies pike up behind it, trying to force it open. Annabeth tips over the last two burger boxes and runs for the back of the school. Every time we've checked, the alley has seemed to be clear. Pulling the bench from the gym doors, I let them open a crack. Nothing. I pull them closed and look at Annabeth.

"So…" I say, thinking of our handy work. "Do you think we'll be expelled for this?"

Annabeth grins. "Definitely."

And then she pulls the fire alarm. The noise is deafening as we burst through the doors. The alley behind the school IS empty at the moment, but it's obvious that it's not going to stay that way for long. Three passing zombies are attracted by the noise and they see us. Annabeth lifts the crossbow and puts two of them down, while I take care of the third with my sword.

What's waiting for us outside the alley is worse. Annabeth did good, most of the corpses are heading down the wider street, to see what the noise is all about. A large group passes the alley and we dart out. Annabeth has the crossbow over her shoulder now and is fighting with her knife. I have to admit. Mr. Brunner has taught us well. It doesn't take us long to fall into a rhythm.

Annabeth is something to watch. Not that I'm watching her, I'm a little busy fighting for my life. But she was made for this. Whatever this new world holds, Annabeth rules it. People use to pass around memes and make posts about who would be on their zombie apocalypse team (what, I'm a teenager, I spend WAY too much time on Facebook). Whatever happens after I find my mom, I'm going to make sure that Annabeth is on mine.

"There," Annabeth calls. She points to an alley. Nothing is in our way.

"Go," I yell. I'm right behind her. Leaving a pile of bodies.

"I've got you," she says. I turn and run. Annabeth sends out three crossbow bolts that she will never get back and then I'm in the alley.

"Hold on," I say. I grab the dumpster. It's on wheels, so I have no problem pulling it away from the wall and sending it rolling into the mass of zombies. We run and we run and we run. Keeping to the alleys. Darting across major streets. I can still hear the alarm going off in the distance. Finally, we find a street with no zombies in it. It's empty. Occupied only by the objects that people left in their rush to get away. Or maybe they were beyond caring when they left this street.

"What now?" I'm panting. Leaning over, I try to catch my breath. Annabeth, leans against a store front. I look over. Her blonde curls are sticking to her neck, and between the damage done last night and what we just went through, her plaid shirt is probably not worth salvaging. But she's smiling. It's an exhausted smile, but it's a smile.

"Now," Annabeth says. "We steal a car."

I think I might be in love.

And chapter three is up. I apologize if some of the Olympian parents seem a little OOC, but you have to think about the fact that if, for example, Athena's only kid was Annabeth and she wasn't immortal, the way she sould approach things would be completely different.

Also, I may have Google mapped Percy's apartment from TLT. Apparently he lives not too far from East Harlem. If anyone from NYC is reading this, I apologize in advance for any details that I get wrong about your lovely city. I have done my best using maps and Google for the details, but obviously it's not as good as first hand knowledge. I keep trying to get off Manhattan, but the story keeps going "NO! You get to stay her for another whole chapter." AGH!

So that's all for now. I have to work on my real book and clean.

Lemme know what you think