Alright, you know what time it is. I'll respond to a couple of reviews really quick, and we'll get going!
Guest: "Dang. I didn't think you was going to end it with that cliffhanger. I was guessing you'd end it with Chiron extracting whatever DNA he got off of Annabeth's plate to test it against his own blood since he got bite by the worm."
I can see why you'd think that. Chiron is doing some interesting research in there, and what's going on with him will be answered soon. Hope you like what's to come.
Callino56: "This story is so so good. I've always loved zombie apocalypse/PJO stories and this is definitely the best, probably one of my favorite PJO stories so far. Can't wait for the next chapter."
Thank you! I love zombie apocalypse stories too, and I've always wanted to write a fic where the PJO characters are in that type of world. I've read other fics like that, and while good, they didn't have some things I wanted in them, so here I am, writing my own!
Mandarina: "Awesome chapters! I just finished exams and had to catch up with them. Great work, keep it up!"
Thank you so much! I hope your exams went well!
Guest: "Hey, really enjoying the story! Do you plan on making it very long?"
Thanks! Yeah, it'll be pretty long. Right now, with what I have planned, it'll be in the range of forty to fifty chapters. Maybe a little less, but at least thirty-five. So yeah, expect a lot from this story, because this is only the beginning.
Now, let's get on with the chapter.
"Lonesome Owl"
-x-
Annabeth has one good memory of her mother.
Not Helen, but her real mother. One core memory that paints an image of her face and voice, just important enough to imprint on Annabeth's mind.
She'd been six years old, standing in the living room of her childhood home at the front window. An owl perched itself on the fence surrounding the front yard just before nightfall. The rays of the porch light illuminated it just enough for Annabeth to watch. For hours, that's all she did. She'd never seen a bird like that before. One so big, so fluffy, so unique.
After a while, her mother came to her, asking what she was doing. Out of curiosity, Annabeth asked her what the bird was called.
"An owl, dear."
Annabeth asked why it was by itself. Didn't it have any friends? Any family? All the other birds seem to.
"Sometimes...being by yourself is what's best for everyone. Maybe it cares too much."
Annabeth had no idea what she meant at the time. A year later when her mother left for good, the words came back to her. But she still didn't understand. Why would she go? Was it her fault? Her dad's fault? How is leaving the family in ruins best for everyone? After that, it all went downhill. To Annabeth, it seemed like her mother only did what was best for her.
But who is she to judge? Annabeth has been doing the same thing for years.
The Olympus walls had long been closed behind her. Annabeth left hours ago, and now trekked through the city, staying hidden in the ruined buildings. Months in this place on her own had taught her many things, one of them being the routine of bandits, or 'Scavengers' as Percy called them. The name fit the group. They watched from higher ground day and night, looking for weaknesses in survivors. Things they can exploit and pounce on to 'earn' some easy gear and weaponry.
They may be ugly brutes, but they have numbers. Annabeth doesn't wish to take them on in a fight.
At least...not without a plan. With some preparation, Annabeth can do nearly anything, and take on nearly any opponent. Strength bows to wisdom in almost every scenario.
She'd been targeting them for a while now. In order to even attempt getting to Virginia from New York, Annabeth would need a vehicle of some kind. Most were blown up in the bombings, but she noticed that the only surviving ones seemed to belong to the Scavengers.
She tried finding abandoned vehicles along the city roads when she decided to go back home, to no success. All either didn't work, had no gas, or were damaged by the bombings, and occasionally infected. Stealing from the Scavengers seemed to be the only option left, but every hideout and apartment seemed to be a fortress, crawling with men, guns and barriers.
However, the hideout in front of the bank looked promising. Before Percy and Grover barged in, Annabeth staked it out and determined the best way to enter would be from the side, up the stairs of the complex, and into whatever room they were in. Along the way, she would try to take them out one by one, or if possible, capture a single Scavenger and find out where they keep their trucks.
Annabeth stopped behind her old bank spot and peered around the corner at the apartment. In between two complexes, they'd built walls and barriers with damaged vehicles and rusted metal, forming thick, but ugly protection. No one could get through the front, and even if they figured out a way how, a sniper from the second to top floor would kill them.
If there's a barrier out front, it's safe to assume there's one in the back or on the side, too. Just not as hard to break. Annabeth figured it would be best to hit it at night when most of them are asleep, save for the sniper. That way, it would be easier to approach undetected, and the night would cloak her from the sniper. Even if he were a military trained marksman, hitting a faraway target in the dark would prove difficult.
Annabeth took notice of her remaining equipment. A shotgun, a few slugs, her knife, and the clothes Percy supplied for her. No food, no water, no sleeping bag, no other weapons.
She looked down at herself and sighed. Did that idiot really have to give her the most revealing, loud outfit he could think of? With these jean cutoffs, she'll get cold at night, and with the pink shirt, she'll stand out to the Scavengers.
It must've been some stupid joke to him. She couldn't afford any weaknesses or hindrances. Even something as stupid as clothes could mean a fatal wound, or even her life. She's out here taking on the rest of the world to achieve her goal, and he's safe behind walls. Behind a group of people that care about him, all after the same purpose, creating a community that resembled the old times.
But...Percy had been interesting. She couldn't deny that. He was brave, but reckless. Kind, but impatient. Bright, but holding a shred of darkness within. His body couldn't contain his spirit. One look in the eyes told Annabeth that, if possible, he'd take on the burden of the entire world to change it. If it meant giving his life to save his camp, or even the world from this mess, he would do it in an instant.
Like heroes from the old stories her father read about.
He reminded her a lot of someone she once knew. It almost scared her.
She couldn't be fooled like that anymore. Never again would she let anyone into her life, even if they seemed trustworthy. He seemed the most trustworthy. The best person she'd ever known. He gave her so much hope, reassuring her that everything was all right, that in the end, it would all work out, because he was strong enough to protect her from any obstacle. Whether it be infected, another human, or whatever. He made Annabeth feel safe and inspired.
And then he succumbed to the apocalypse. Building a philosophy around the most extreme measures, turning their group, their family, into the worst that humanity had to offer. She gave him so many chances to change, to prove to her that he was still in there. That this new persona was only a mask created by the new world.
Even to this day, Annabeth isn't sure if it's a mask, or if he just became more of who he really was, and it only took the end of the world to bring that out. What she is sure about, is that the man she met doesn't exist anymore.
She hopes that she'll never have to see him again. But knowing how persistent and obsessive he is, it's only a matter of time before the past catches up with her, and the consequences of her decisions come full circle.
The name comes to her mind, and she can't stop it.
Luke.
Annabeth curses under her breath. She swore to leave that all behind, to never think of them, or him, again. But here she is, betraying herself.
In a way, though, it serves as a grim reminder, and a lesson. She almost let herself get attached again. Let her walls come down for just a split moment with those people. She had to tell herself that its what people do. They show you kindness to let your guard down, and when you least expect it, they use you for their own gain. Then when they're done with you, they'll throw you to the curb if they're nice. If they're mean...they kill you slowly.
She can't let that happen again. The illusion won't work next time, because there won't be a next time. She made a mistake in going with Percy and Grover, and it could've gotten her killed.
From now on, it's just me. No companions, no spending the night at some camp, no talking to anyone. Just complete your mission. Find a car, get to Virginia, and fix your mistakes.
Annabeth finished the vow by nodding at the apartment, knowing she'd be back after dark.
As the hours passed, Annabeth was beginning to get tired.
The sun had set two hours ago. She sat in the corner of some abandoned barber shop, the only building halfway intact for several blocks. She wanted to remain close to the Scavengers' hideout.
The windows to the shop weren't broken, but the brick had been chipped and cracked in several places. The glass door could be pushed open by infected, so Annabeth placed a desk in front of it, and now watched it hawkishly.
It almost looked like a piece of the old world, taken by a camera and placed into her vision. On the counters, razors and scissors still sat, there was some hair strands on the floor, the chairs were still lined up and collecting dust.
Annabeth fidgeted with the end of her own hair. She considered cutting it short several times, but always decided not to. It would be smarter, and easier to manage, sure, but she figured that not everything had to change about her. Some things shouldn't be taken.
Everything was quiet and had been ever since she sat down. The ambience of the shop would be chilling to anyone else, but Annabeth was long used to the isolation. Being on her own with just her thoughts. She tried to keep them focused on the task before her, what she would say to her family, how she would explain where she'd been, the things she'd done. She must've rehearsed it at least thirty times.
Her body had trained itself to react to the sounds of infected. Shuffling feet, low moans and growls were like sirens to her. So, without that noise, her body got comfortable, much to her annoyance.
She didn't want to sleep. She wanted to stay awake and alert, ready to get on the move and face those Scavengers. Completing phase one of her mission was long overdue.
But one good night in a real bed did little to quell her exhaustion. Before that, she would sleep for three hours on a good night, spending the rest in paranoia that something or someone would attack her. She had nobody to watch her back, or take turns keeping lookout. The little moments she allowed herself to rest were huge risks.
Now, she did her best to fight it. One leg was curled into her chest, while the other lay flat on the floor. Both of her arms wrapped around the shotgun and her head leaned onto the barrel, using it as a pillow. Her eyes constantly closed and fluttered, drowsiness slowly winning.
After several blinks, she saw a silhouette standing in front of her, behind the glass door of the shop. Annabeth immediately shot to her feet; shotgun raised at the figure's head. But with another blink, it was gone.
She tried to calm her racing heart, telling herself it was just an infected wandering by. Nothing more. Until it happened again.
Now, she could see the figure a bit clearer. A tall, muscular man stared back at her, wearing a shirt with the sleeves ripped off, a necklace, and sporting blonde hair. Most noticeably, a nasty scar coursing over his jaw and up to his eye.
Annabeth's eyes widened, her breath stopping. No way. Had he...followed her all the way here?
Suddenly, his presence was in two places at once. Behind her, she felt a chill run down her spine as two hands gripped at her shoulders, a warm breath hitting her ear, followed by a haunting whisper.
"Did you really think there was any place you could go that I wouldn't follow? You knew that I would find you eventually."
Her body trembled. Tears welled up in her eyes. "S-Stop. Please go away..."
"I won't. I never will. You know why? Because we're connected, Annabeth. Where you go, I go."
"W-What do you want?" She whimpered.
He chuckled, "I've come back to get what belongs to me. You."
His arms were around her in a flash, squeezing the life out of her like a snake. Annabeth couldn't even scream or breathe, the fear froze her, his terrifying strength crushed her. She could feel all air leaving her lungs, her soul fading from her body...
Then, she woke up.
She'd been laying down, but after the nightmare, shot up to a sitting position, screaming at the top of her lungs and hugging herself. It took several moments to gather her thoughts and realize where she was. Slowly but surely, she put the pieces together. Barber shop. Waiting. Scavengers. Vehicle.
Annabeth closed her eyes and calmed her breathing, instinctively grabbing the shotgun that she sat down at some point during her short sleep. Or at least, she assumed it was short. She didn't even know she'd fallen asleep. The transition between reality and imagination had been horrifyingly seamless.
It wasn't going away. The nightmares were the same, over and over. And what's worse, that was a tame one. Usually, Luke would have his way with her, take her back to her home and show the corpses of her family, proudly stating that he killed them. Annabeth would only wake up when he decided to end her, too.
She wanted to cry. To rip out that part of her brain that makes her dream. If only there was some way to never sleep, or never dream when you sleep. Her nights are never filled with peace or conjuring thoughts of hope, picturing a better place. Only the nightmares and regrets. She hates it.
Figuring her mood wouldn't get any better, she decided it had been long enough past dark to enact her plan. Tonight, she will get her vehicle, and nothing will stop her.
Annabeth took the shotgun and walked to the glass door. Overhead, the half-moon shone on the city, high in the cloudless sky. The streets were empty in her foreseeable sight. No infected.
The door opened with a squeak. Annabeth didn't bother waiting for it to close, she was already long gone, staying low and looking in all directions for enemies. Within her line of sight, and whatever distance her eyes allowed, she could only discern vague shapes of infected wandering near the sidewalks, sniffing out prey. Four, she saw, which surprised her. Infected grew in numbers at night due to being strengthened by the cool temperatures. She didn't think too much about the reason and decided to be grateful. She didn't need those disgusting things ruining her plan.
Prowling through the darkness, Annabeth found the Scavenger hideout, looking at it from the side view. Her theory was correct, the front wall was higher than the rest. This one couldn't be more than thirteen feet, and with the way it's built, uneven and disfigured, she'd definitely find a foothold to climb on.
Annabeth stopped for a moment in front of a ruined basketball court directly next to the complex, scanning the area and taking notes based on contextual clues. For instance, atop the wall, she saw an orange glow swaying back and forth, indicating a fire. The Scavengers wouldn't just leave a fire like that unattended, so she assumed at least one person kept watch over it. They would be the first to take out.
Staring closer at the light of the fire, she saw shadows of stairs leading to rooms. She figured after she took out the person by the fire, she could quietly sneak up those stairs and listen into the apartments for any movement. If she heard none, it was safe to guess that everyone was asleep, all except for that sniper. She couldn't let them hear her.
Now, she could either use them sleeping to her advantage and look for the truck herself, or instead of killing the person by the fire, try to interrogate them and get information on a vehicle location. That could go sour though. Annabeth imagined a scenario where they screamed for help, even at the cost of their own life, would be likely. A 'you may get me, but they'll get you' type of thing.
She inhaled a sharp breath through her lips, puffing out her chest. It was dangerous, either way. Annabeth knew she was walking into the lion's den with this, regardless of if she had a plan or not, regardless of her intelligence. Everything in the end, is up to chance. She can speculate all she wants, but in reality, she doesn't know for sure what will happen.
So she can't think about it for too long.
"Alright," She whispered, "Here we go."
Coming off her knees, she remained low and shuffled over to the side wall, not making a noise or a scrape. She stopped and examined it. Like she predicted, the metal had been welded together rather carelessly, and with some strong pushes from a few people, the wall could be toppled over and destroyed. She'd need to be extremely careful when climbing. One wrong move, and she'd alert whoever sat by the fire.
Annabeth made sure the shotgun strap sat tight around her torso and shifted the weapon to lay on her back, freeing up both hands to climb. The complex blocked out the moon, so she had to use the dim light of the fire to find good footing. But even that wasn't enough, so it came down to her just feeling her way through until she found something semi-trustworthy.
After moving her shoe around, she finally bumped into a tiny ledge poking out of the wall. The other two spots were easier to find with her hands. Within a few moments, she was stabilized and prepared to climb.
It was very slow, but silent, and that's all that mattered to her. She didn't care if it took thirty minutes to scale this wall, if she didn't gather attention, it was a win in her book.
Thankfully, it didn't take half an hour. Only five minutes. Luckily, there were many juts and spots where metal folding poked out, giving her enough footing to work with. At times, she had to stretch her leg to reach a folding or thrust her body upward to grab onto a piece of metal, but it could've been worse.
When Annabeth made it to the top, she peered her head over the wall just enough, so her eyes fell upon the fire. Around it, sat two people. One laying on their side, asleep, and the other sitting cross legged, staring at the fire, their hand loosely on a pistol. Both wore baggy, tattered clothes and hoods, covering every inch of their body. But judging by their frames and builds, both were men.
Didn't matter. With one asleep and the other's back turned to her, she could sneak down and slit the sitting man's throat, then wake the other one with a hand over his mouth. He would be the one to tell her the vehicle's location.
The descent down the wall turned out to be much easier than the ascent. Now that she knew the situation, Annabeth felt more confident and comfortable. She quietly climbed down the wall and stepped onto the concrete without so much as a peep, never alarming the Scavenger that watched the fire.
Like a lion stalking an ignorant zebra, she stepped slowly toward the man, crouched down with her knife at the ready. Three seconds...two seconds...one second...
Then, she clamped her hand over his mouth and drug her knife across his windpipe.
Warm blood spewed everywhere, spurting on the ground and into the fire. The man made weak noises against Annabeth's palm, but all were useless. She could literally feel his body getting weaker and his life fading into nothing. Eventually, he fell still, and she sat him down in his own puddle of red.
Annabeth didn't even give him a second look. She was already focused on the sleeping man now. The act of killing another human came rather naturally to her as the years of survival progressed. Inwardly, she hated that fact, and herself for being so okay and used to it. Before all of this, killing another person would have never crossed her mind. It was a crime, not to mention morally wrong in every way. To take someone else's life...was a massive burden.
She killed her first human a few months after joining Luke's group. He had been there when it happened. Encouraged her to do it, even. After pulling the trigger, she felt like another person entirely. She remembered standing in shock, eyes glazed over as she stared at the lifeless corpse at her feet.
"You did the right thing, Annabeth. It was a matter of survival. He was going to hurt you, and you didn't let that happen. He lost, and you won. Simple as that."
As if it were a game. As if this were all some sick, twisted game forced upon humanity to test them. See how far they're willing to go just to stay alive.
It's not that she even cares to live anymore. But she just can't bear to go out without seeing her family again, and at least attempting to right her wrongs. To leave things unsettled...would be a waste.
In a flash, she was on one knee, repeating the very same act as before, only this time, she didn't immediately kill the Scavenger. His eyes widened when her fingers squeezed his face, trapping his voice. She touched the side of his neck with the tip of the knife, letting him know it was there.
"Listen carefully," She ordered, barely a whisper, "I know you Scavengers have vehicles. I want one. Tell me where you keep yours and I won't do to you what I did to your friend, got it?" Finishing that sentence, she motioned over to the dead man behind her. The Scavenger's eyes widened further upon seeing his comrade.
She didn't let his mouth go yet. "I'm going to take my hand off. But when I do, if I even think your voice is going above a whisper, I won't kill you quick like that guy. I'll slice you across the chest and make you bleed out painfully. I don't care if the others kill me." A lie, but she knew her bluff was good. Annabeth made sure that her face remained unreadable. "Understand?"
The Scavenger nodded. Annabeth let go of his mouth but kept her hand nearby.
"W-We don't have a car here."
She didn't expect that to come out of his mouth. Her mouth parted in shock. No...surely she couldn't have been wrong. Scavengers were some of the only people in the city who had working cars. Every hideout had to have one!
She refused to accept it. This was the one safe lead she went with, after months of scrounging and living off of nothing, never sleeping out of fear, killing everything in sight, now that she finally decides to go through with it...it's a dead end?
Out of anger, Annabeth flicked her wrist and let the knife go into the man's neck, just a millimeter or two to draw blood.
"You're lying."
The Scavenger shook his head, "I'm not. We had an old beat-up Toyota a while back, but we ran out of gas, so we used its parts to strengthen the wall."
Annabeth felt like her body was going to explode with frustration. Of course, her luck didn't allow one thing to go right. One thing. She couldn't even test if this guy was lying, because then she'd have to go deeper into the hideout to look for a car and risk getting caught. She couldn't infiltrate the other hideouts, because they were much bigger and had more people.
She was out of options. Her family...they were getting further and further away from her.
Annabeth hung her head, growling, "Dammit."
Taking her eyes off of the Scavenger for that split second allowed him to make his move. The man lifted his head and disturbed the quiet of the night with his plea, "HELP! INTRUDER! INTRUDER!"
Annabeth immediately thrust the rest of the knife into his neck, stopping the rest of his cries in their tracks. Her breathing quickened, her skin got cold, her nerves lit aflame. Now she'd done it. She'd just killed herself.
Breaking into a sprint, she jumped onto the metal wall and began scrambling towards the top, praying that the Scavenger's sleeping bought her a few seconds to escape.
That prayer went unanswered. A figured emerged from the darkness of the area below the complex, likely coming from the other side of the building with their gun raised. A rifle, by the sound of it. Annabeth heard a sharp ping against the metal just above her head, then a loud crack behind her. The noise and impact jolted her body enough to cause her fall.
The asphalt slammed into her back, knocking the wind out of her, but not ceasing her limbs. She rolled desperately away from the fire and got to her feet, practically diving to avoid the next shot that came, missing her by mere inches.
Mid-dive, she managed to pull the shotgun from her back and into her arms, aiming it as she'd done hundreds of times before, finding the hooded figure within her sights, and shooting.
The slug's thunder roared, hitting the figure with powerful force, knocking them back into the wall. She pumped it, loading another slug in the chamber. Five rounds left. If she played this smart, she could make them count.
Annabeth considered going for the wall again. Though it would leave her completely open, it was the quickest way to escape, and this was the shortest height the wall got when looking at the entire complex. However, she scratched that plan out of her head the instant she heard grunts and feet hitting the metal, a hand slamming against the top to pull whoever it was attached to up.
They had her on both sides. In the building and outside the walls. With both being equally dangerous, she made the decision to run up the stairs and hold herself up in one of the apartments. Annabeth instinctively went right, stopping at the very first door she saw and testing it. Unlocked. Perhaps she did have a little luck, because with the lack of food and sleep, Annabeth doubted she had the strength to dent the wood on a door, let alone kick one open.
In one swift movement, she slipped in and closed the door behind her, never looking back. Again, she found herself lucky. Nobody was in the apartment from what she could see. The living room lay dormant, the kitchen was trashed and messy, while the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom left her cautious.
Shotgun leveled and ready, she walked down the hall, her eyes constantly darting room to room for any sign of movement. She found none, even checking under the beds and in the closets. Completely empty.
She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe. What now? Well, with five rounds and likely more people than that, she'd have to use this area to her advantage. She figured every other Scavenger heard her come up the steps and open a door, so they would all converge here. They couldn't enter in any other way besides the door, so she would watch it and wait. The second one pops in; she blasts their head off. Once she runs out of ammo, she leaves her position and hides, taking them out silently with her knife one by one until all are gone.
It wouldn't be easy, but if she remained calm, it was doable. Her will is strong. If she survives this, she gets another chance at seeing them again. Maybe she won't get a car just yet, but the opportunity will come. She has to believe that.
A series of loud footsteps came down the hall and stopped at the door. Annabeth rushed into the living room and knelt behind a small couch, propping the shotgun barrel on the cushion. She made sure the sights were aimed directly at the center of the door.
"She's in there!" A voice barked.
"Go!"
The door swung open, two shadows appeared, Annabeth shot one dead while the other moved behind the wall, narrowly avoiding the shell. Four rounds left.
She pumped the gun and waited. They left the door open, which made it harder, because now they could run by and fire shots wildly, making it harder for Annabeth to hit them. With the door closed, she at least had a warning.
Just as she predicted, more footsteps came. Anticipating the attack, she ducked below the chair and heard the shots go off. Bullets hit the wall above her, knocking dust and tiny wooden fragments on the floor. After waiting a moment, Annabeth peeked over the couch and at the door. Nothing, but they were there, waiting. Just like her.
It was only a matter of time.
At the doorway, a boot shifted on the floor. They played their move first.
Annabeth responded by making a wild one of her own. Instead of poking her head from behind her only cover, she quickly placed the shotgun above her head and onto the top of the couch, firing blindly at what she hoped was the doorway.
A cry of pain echoed in the room. She'd hit her mark. Adrenaline coursed through her. She stood straight and sidestepped away from the couch to find the other Scavenger leaning against the wall, directly next to his now wounded friend. Annabeth fired, hitting him too.
But something happened that she didn't expect. Three of them appeared above the others, piling through the doorframe and into the room, screaming like wild dogs that wanted to rip her head off.
Calmly, she mowed two of them down, hitting them in the chest with slugs, but what she didn't anticipate was that this wasn't just a dumb charge. This was strategy. Another move on the chess board. The Scavengers rushed in a group like that to draw her fire. A slug couldn't spread far enough to take them all out, and while she managed to shoot two, the third one had already made it to her by the time she was through pumping the weapon and loading another round.
It was another man, one bigger than the rest this time, that confronted her. He grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and fiercely pushed it towards the ceiling, using his other hand to grab Annabeth by the neck and slam her in the wall.
He was stronger than her, no doubt. Annabeth only had skill on him, but with the state she found herself in...it wouldn't matter. His grip might as well have been an iron vice, sucking the air from her. She attempted a kick to the chest with both of her legs, but it only managed to stumble him, never breaking his grip. Then, he brought his body closer to hers to prevent another move like that.
Above the black mask around his mouth and nose, Annabeth saw seething eyes, "You're gonna die for what you did, bitch."
She could only sputter and cough, desperately trying to squirm enough to gather just a tiny breath of air. No use. She was going to die. Here, in some shitty apartment far from home, at the hands of a thug. Not in a blaze of glory, not old and on her death bed, not even with her family.
But who was she to judge fate? After all she's done, that would be too good for her. How can she expect to die peacefully at this point?
Maybe it's better to...
No. Screw that. You start thinking like that and you actually will die. What are you? Some pathetic little girl that can't handle the guilt? You did those things. They happened. I deserve death.
But I have to see them again. If I die after that...fine. I have to make amends first.
So fight!
Keep fighting!
Annabeth chomped on the man's wrist, biting as hard as she could. He cried out in pain but didn't jerk his hand away, so she jabbed him in the eye with her thumb, trying to target all weak points.
She hit him dead on, finally knocking him back and breaking the grip around her neck. Annabeth regained her breath and gripped the shotgun with her other hand, leveling it and pulling the trigger.
Nothing happened.
She'd forgotten that she used all of her rounds. She had no ammo left, only her knife. Annabeth tossed the gun to the floor and brought it out, charging at the man without a word or a grunt, she drove the blade through his chin and into his mouth.
Once he fell to the ground, Annabeth jerked her arm downward to get rid of the blood. More footsteps approached. Multiple people, and she didn't have a loaded gun. She'd have to get one off the bodies, or take these precious few moments to escape. Maybe at this height she could jump out of the window and not break a leg.
When she glanced through the glass, Annabeth saw something that made her tilt her head. In the moonlight, three black military trucks were approaching the complex, driving down the road at a cruising pace. The black color was familiar to Annabeth, she'd seen them before around the city, and always made sure to steer clear. One time, she decided to trail them. When they stopped, people in gear, with high-powered guns got out.
Were those soldiers of Project Atlas? The group that Clarisse mentioned when holding her spear?
Suddenly, Annabeth had a wild idea. It wasn't her best, but if it went in her favor, she could distract every Scavenger and escape on her own, unscathed.
She picked up her shotgun and a pistol dropped by one of the men she shot. Bashing the butt of the shotgun against the window, it broke into a thousand glass pieces. Annabeth threw the weapon as hard as she could onto the road, directly in front of the truck's path and fired the pistol twice out the window.
The trucks stopped instantly. For a moment, all was still, until the first door opened, then another, and then another. Before she knew it, a dozen people all dressed in black SWAT gear hopped out of the vehicles, wearing helmets and masks, completely concealing their appearance. Each one held an assault rifle, and on their chests, a fancy insignia of the letter A, which must've stood for Atlas.
These were the same people she'd seen on the roads before. The same people Clarisse mentioned. But why were they here? Why were they just driving around casually? Were they looking for something?
Annabeth ducked behind the couch again to avoid the Scavengers and waited. The footsteps halted at the doorway, some whispers could be heard, the clanking of guns too. She hoped the Project Atlas men would garner their attention quick, otherwise that little stunt was all for nothing.
Finally, one of the soldiers below addressed the complex, using some kind of voice enhancer, like a microphone or megaphone. "All survivors in the area, step out now with your weapons down!"
Behind her, Annabeth could practically feel the fear and dread from the Scavengers. Being five feet from her, their voices were clear too, as an array of worry.
"Is that...Project Atlas?" One said.
"Why are they here?" Said another.
"Does it matter? We have to do what they say."
"But won't they kill us?"
"Jackass, they'll kill us for sure if we don't do anything."
Reluctantly, they left the room and Annabeth alone. She smirked to herself. It had worked. She'd taken a long shot by getting their attention and throwing that piece into the game. Now, she'd pitted her enemies against another enemy, with them none the wiser. And the best part is, she can get her vehicle too, all in one go. She just had to watch and see what happened, then, at the right moment, go down there and take one of Project Atlas's trucks.
Deciding the coast clear, Annabeth shuffled over to the window on her knees, watching the scene below the building. The remaining six Scavengers all stood in front of the soldiers, who possessed double the manpower and much better weaponry. If a gunfight were to break out, the winner would be decided within a minute or less, and it wouldn't be the Scavengers.
The soldier in the middle spoke first, but didn't address the Scavengers. Instead, he seemed to be talking to someone still in the trucks. "Boss, we've rounded up some more!"
From the passenger door of the leading truck, a man stepped out wearing different gear than the rest. It almost looked like...armor, in a more traditional sense, being that it was almost completely made of metal, from head to toe, with little grooves in the elbows and knees that allowed more fluid movement. With it being night, Annabeth couldn't quite see the details of his appearance, but it seemed like his helmet, unlike the others, wasn't a blank face. It looked like the design of a skull, with carvings of teeth and hollow eyes. On his back, sat a strange weapon that didn't look like a gun. Maybe a flamethrower?
What's going on? She asked herself. Why did that guy say they rounded up some more?
The man with the flamethrower took charge, towering over the Scavengers. "Bandits, huh?" His voice sounded augmented, like it passed through a filter that made it much deeper and more robotic. "Well, good as subjects as any. Go ahead."
The soldier that spoke before nodded, "Yes, sir!" He snapped his fingers and six more soldiers behind him rushed to the back of the trucks, two for each. Annabeth watched on, completely confused as to what they were planning.
Subjects? What does that mean?
The Scavengers were visibly trembling with fear. Even Annabeth could see that from this distance. They began begging, "No, please don't! Please! Just spare us!" All their voices seemed to shout the same thing over and over again, as if they knew what would happen. Their pleading fell on deaf ears, the soldiers came forward and turned the Scavengers around, pushing them down by the shoulders and forcing them on their knees, giving Annabeth a good look of their crying, terrified faces.
What the hell is going on?
Soon enough, she got her answer. The soldiers that went to the backs of the trucks returned...with infected on pole leashes, the same kind used on aggressive dogs. Each soldier had one, which meant six infected, matching the number of the Scavengers.
Together, they simultaneously led the infected forward and stopped just out of reach of the Scavengers, who were still begging for mercy. The men all looked to their leader, and the man with the flamethrower nodded, "Turn them."
After that, it was over. What happened next made Annabeth gasp and cover her mouth. The soldiers gave slack to the leashes and allowed the infected to bite down on the Scavenger's necks. One by one, the monsters sank their teeth into the soft flesh and implanted whatever virus or toxin they use to turn people. The Scavengers howled in agony throughout the whole thing, while the soldiers watched on, unmoving, without remorse.
She turned around and slid along the wall until her rear touched the floor. Annabeth absolutely couldn't believe what she just witnessed. This Project Atlas...they were turning people by force? Why?
It made no sense. Why on Earth would anyone's goal be to decrease the population of humanity? Especially an organization like them, who actually wields the power to do something about it.
What logical reason is there to this?
Annabeth shook her head. She could think later about the bizarre scene she just saw. Right now, she had to get one of those trucks. It may be her only chance.
Leaving the shotgun behind, Annabeth sheathed her knife and freed up her hands to sprint, running harder than any other time she could remember, down the stairs and to the back wall behind the complex. The Scavengers were still screaming, so she just hoped the soldiers would stay distracted. Those low lives were one thing, but Project Atlas was another. She knew very little about them, so confronting even one in a fight would prove difficult, especially without a gun.
This time, she climbed the wall quickly, not caring about the noise she made. When she touched down on the asphalt, Annabeth ran in a big circle around the group, keeping her eyes glued to them. If she saw anybody look in her direction, she was forgetting the truck and making a run for it. With assault rifles like that in the night, and distance like this, she might be able to survive.
Luckily, no one noticed her. She played it safe and targeted the last truck in the lineup, sneaking around to the driver's side and grabbing the handle. The entire thing slightly vibrated, telling her that they left their vehicles on. Good. That meant the key was inside, giving her full control. The only remaining problem lie inside the vehicle itself. If someone stayed behind, she'd be done for.
As if it would explode, she pulled on the handle with her thumb and index finger. The interior was very spacious and protective. Tinted windows, bulletproof doors, leather seats, six of them to be exact, and even cupholders, but nobody in the truck. Realizing this, she hopped in and closed the door, moving at full speed and throwing caution to the wind.
Everything seemed to happen in fast forward from there. Annabeth yanked the transmission out of park and stomped on the gas pedal, turning the wheel so she didn't plow into the truck in front of her. The reaction from the soldiers was immediate, firing a line of bullets at the truck.
She never looked back or eased her foot on the gas. Pretty soon, the entire scene faded with the distance, and Annabeth was home free.
It had been a long, long time since she really smiled, or even laughed. But here and now, she did. She cackled, beat the steering wheel with excitement, and hooted in victory. This...is why she lives. Just when she thought it impossible, she gets her chance. After all this time, she can finally go home.
All morning, and even into the next night, Annabeth ran from Project Atlas.
Apparently, word really got out that someone stole one of their vehicles. They hunted her through the city for hours, and she ended up using a quarter of a tank just to get away from them. Wherever she went, they seemed to follow and appear, forming blockades on several streets, blocking her path.
It infuriated her, because she in her plan, when she obtained a car, truck, or whatever, she was leaving the city and going straight home. But now, she couldn't. It seemed absurd to make this big of a fuss over one stolen truck, but here she was, enemy number one of a giant organization.
Night had fallen not long ago. Annabeth was tired from all the chasing and stress, so she decided to park the truck in an alley between the old bank and the building next to it. She'd gone back to the same spot she'd stolen this vehicle from, which seemed stupid at first, but she realized it would probably be the last place they expected her to go, and that theory worked. For now. She figured she would have to switch spots in a couple of hours just to be safe.
Now, she lay in the second row of seats on the leather, staring up at the roof. She thought about what would come next, and how she'd escape this city. Not to mention the fact that those Project Atlas soldiers turned the Scavengers right in front of her. She still couldn't wrap her head around that.
I can't worry about their goals. It's not my place. I just need to find a way past them and get home. With the amount of gas I have, I can probably make it to another city and find a source somewhere. If I have to steal it, then so be-
Her thoughts were interrupted by a banging on the driver door. It made her sit up and tense. That was a knock, from a human hand. Someone was just outside.
Annabeth cursed herself for not grabbing any of the dead Scavengers' weapons and taking them with her. She still only had her knife. Whoever it was...she'd have to take them by surprise.
She prepared herself at the door, her knuckles white against the handle of the blade. She counted down from three, and when she reached one, she threw open the truck door and jumped out, more than ready to stab the perpetrator to death.
Until she saw who it was.
Annabeth stopped instantly, knife still raised in the air. Nothing could have prepared her for this. She expected a Project Atlas soldier, a Scavenger looking for revenge, or even an infected, but not this.
"Percy?"
He looked like he'd been through an entire war in the time she left Olympus. His clothes and face were covered in blood, he had an assault rifle aimed towards Annabeth, a backpack on his torso, and that sword strapped on one of his shoulders. His eyes were wide, crazed, even fearful. Like a cornered animal.
It took him a few seconds to register the fact that it was her. Once he did, he lowered the rifle, but never blinked. He just stared at her.
"Annabeth," He said, "It's you. Good. Maybe you can help me get out of here."
-x-