That's right, I'm back. Sorry this chapter is coming a month or two late, life got a little busier than I expected and I had to deal with some things. But that's over now.
It's been a little while since I wrote for this story, so I hope this chapter doesn't feel off. Fair warning, there's a lot of dialogue, but I promise it's all important to the fic moving forward.
Anyway, hope you enjoy! Drop a review and tell me what you thought!
"Clashing Storms"
-x-
"Annabeth, it's you. Good. Maybe you can help me get out of here."
She could only stare at him and attempt to put the pieces together. But no matter how much she tried, it just didn't make sense. Olympus was a strong settlement, with walls and tons of people. No way could any infected get in, and even if they did, it would take a massive horde for there to be a bloodbath. Could he be on some kind of solo supply run and ran into a few? Maybe that's why he has the blood on his shirt.
No, that wasn't it. Something told Annabeth this wasn't a matter of infected.
"Why are you here?" Was all she could come up with. She figured it was a broad enough question to cover the other smaller ones. Like, why are you covered in blood? Is it from an infected or a human? Where's your friend? Why are you holding an assault rifle?
Percy shook his head, letting out a sigh of exhaustion. "It's...a long story. But the point is, Project Atlas is after me. You know, the military looking guys with the big trucks? You've probably seen them around the city before."
Annabeth nodded, "Yeah, I know what you're talking about." Huh, so they were after Percy too? Perhaps she wasn't the only reason there were so many exits blocked around the city.
"Yeah. So anyway, I'm kind of enemy number one right now, and I need a place to hide. I...figured you were one of them. I'd hoped to take whoever it was out and steal the truck, but hey, it's nice to see a familiar face."
To sum the past minute up, only one word came to her mind. Odd. Annabeth never thought she'd see Percy again. She figured he was a mistake she would soon forget about. A reminder of her promise to herself to never let anyone get close. Yet here he was, back in her life not two days later. The Universe just wouldn't give her a break.
While she tried to decide on what to do, Percy began looking back and forth between her and the stolen truck, his black eyebrows knit together. "Wait...why are you in a Project Atlas truck?" As he solved the puzzle, his face lit up with surprise. "Did you steal it?"
"Sort of." By habit, she looked to their surroundings, making sure nobody was sneaking up on them. "That's...a long story too."
Percy smirked, "Well maybe later we can exchange notes. Right now, it seems both of us need a temporary hiding spot. Got any ideas?"
Annabeth wasn't sure whether to be grateful or be dreadful. She wasn't looking for a partner to tag along with. Someone else would only weigh her down, and even so, Percy wasn't exactly the quiet type. He would probably annoy her.
However...given her situation, having some backup and another set of eyes could be useful. Just until she could get out of the city. Then, he's on his own.
"Not really," She said, "I've been avoiding them for hours, just driving through the city and staying on the move. I figured this spot would hold out for a bit because it's the last place they'd expect me to go."
"What do you mean?"
Annabeth remembered her fight with the Scavengers. How in a moment of pure luck, she saw Project Atlas trucks coming by and used that to save her from getting killed. Only what happened in the following, was something she could've never prepared for.
She could still hear their screams as they were being forcibly turned against their will.
She didn't reply to his question, instead opting to put the ball back in his court. "Hey, you've lived in the city your entire life, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
"So you know it better than I do. Do you have any secret hideouts up your sleeve?"
At first, Percy began to shake his head, but something must have dawned on him, because he looked above her hair and smiled, thinking off into space.
"What? You've got something?"
"Yeah...but it's a long shot. We'll have to do a bit of driving to get there."
"Hey, if it gets me out of their crosshairs, I'm all for it."
"Alright. I'm guessing you're gonna drive?"
Annabeth scoffed, "I stole the truck. Yeah, I'm driving."
Percy put his hands up in surrender, "Okay, I just hope that your-"
"I dare you to make a 'girls can't drive' joke right now." She pointed a threatening finger at him, "Seriously, go ahead."
Percy reconsidered, "Uh...shall we get going?"
"Yeah, lets."
He wasn't kidding when he said it would take a bit of driving.
Thirty minutes later, Percy had led Annabeth to the outskirts of Manhattan, all the way to an abandoned construction site.
It was a wasteland within a wasteland, the epicenter of the infamous bombings Annabeth heard about on the news back home, all the way back in the beginning. Ash, metal, and charred wood sat in tall piles, strewn about for hundreds of yards, as far as the eye could see.
She kept looking for any sign of shelter. Anything that would've given Percy the inclination that they would be safe here. Unless he considered hiding under landfills as secure, then they would be completely exposed.
Annabeth stopped the truck and side-eyed Percy, "I thought you said there was shelter here."
He kept his eyes forward, "There is. Keep driving."
"If you're trying to play some stupid prank on me...don't. I'm really not in the mood."
"It's not a prank. If you'll just keep driving forward, you'll see exactly what I'm talking about."
She glared at him for a moment longer, then took her foot off the brake. The truck eased forward, shaking and bobbing back and forth as it ran over the ash piles. Several seconds of silence passed, and with each, Annabeth grew more impatient, her suspicion rising. That same mistrusting nature began taking over, and her mind raced to extreme assumptions.
Percy probably planned this entire thing just to have his way with her. Probably kill her too for his own satisfaction. The blood on his shirt, the talk about being chased by Project Atlas...it was all a trick. A ploy to lure her in.
Her hand began creeping its way to her belt for the already blood-stained knife she used just yesterday. Dozens of throats had been slit with that blade, and she would slit Percy's too if she must.
Oblivious to her thoughts, Percy grinned and pointed towards the windshield, "There it is!"
Annabeth's eyes darted forward, spotting the now obvious bunker entrance in front of the truck. Stone and metal thicker than a skyscraper beam formed a long rectangle with a wide ramp in front, for any type of vehicle, or even aircraft to drive underground.
"It's...a bunker." She whispered. "How- I mean, how do you even know about this? Why is it in the middle of the city? What..." She trailed off, finding him staring at her with a smirk on his lips.
"Yeah, you're definitely not from around here," He chuckled, "Go ahead and drive forward. If I remember right, the walls below should be open."
And just like that, her worries, her suspicions, were calmed. The tense hand she intended to kill him with softened on her lap, her foot came off the brake and pushed gently on the gas, propelling the truck onto the ramp and into darkness.
Neither of them said a word while the engine thrummed softly, and the truck left the outside world. Annabeth turned on the vehicle's front lights and found that Percy was right. The walls guarding the bunker were open, but what lie ahead remained hidden.
Eventually, the ground leveled, indicating they were inside. Almost immediately, Percy broke their silence, "Stop the truck."
She listened, forcing the truck to a slow halt. Percy unbuckled his seatbelt and motioned toward the gearshift between them. "Put it in park. I'm gonna get out and see if I can find the light switch."
"How would you know where to find a light switch?"
"Because I've been here before." He shifted his hips and thrust himself towards the back seat, ruffling through his backpack until he retrieved a small flashlight. He gave it a single twirl in his hand and cocked his head at her, "Back in a flash. Keep the truck running."
Annabeth stopped him, "Are you crazy? There could be a hundred infected down here, and you're just wandering off without a weapon? We should stay in the truck and use the headlights to look for an office or something. That's probably where the fuse box is."
Percy shook his head, "No need. I'm pretty sure I remember where it is. Besides, it may not be infected to worry about here, if you know what I mean, and I need that backpack guarded."
"Why?"
"I'll explain later." With that, he gave her no chance of questioning further, and hopped out of the truck, leaving her alone.
She watched the flashlight's illumination grow smaller with distance, until it faded completely. Tearing her eyes away from Percy's path, she stared forward at the ray of the headlights, revealing nothing but open space.
Patiently, she waited. Thinking. Thinking deeply about Percy and what him being here meant. All those vows she made to herself about keeping her walls up, never talking to another soul again, never partnering or teaming up with another survivor...and here she is, relapsing on her word just a day later.
Things never go to plan, though. She knows this. Knew it even before the apocalypse began. You can have it all laid out, the perfect strategy, but even then, you still have to make room for contingencies and wildcards. You have to adapt to them.
You can still get home. Even if he's here. If he helps, all the better, and if he tries anything...you kill him. Simple as that.
It felt like a curse. Being this emotionally guarded. If she read into every single move that Percy made, considered every action or word of his to be some trick, then what would she think of her family? How would they react to this new version of her? One that's been utterly broken and betrayed by nearly everyone she's met? She longs to see them again, but do they long to see her?
After all, the last time they saw her, it wasn't on good terms. Not in the slightest. And everything after...was a downward spiral. A nightmare that grew worse day by day. Her father had been right all along. The outside world was dangerous, and she had no need to venture into it. She belonged in that old house with her family.
But she had been naive. Curious. Tired of being cooped up in that structure, where she felt forgotten. It had been that way since Helen entered the picture, and soon after, brought Bobby and Matthew with her. She loved those two boys. They were innocent. But Helen, in her mind, had tried to take her father away from her since day one.
That's why it was so easy to leave. Luke made her feel wanted. He gave her the attention she desired, the praise she yearned for, the respect she silently begged her father to give her.
She could still remember the screaming. The argument that ended it all. She'd been so angry with her father, and so enamored by Luke, the strange hero that came into her life to whisk her away from this sorry, cramped existence. It was like fate.
In hindsight, it's chilling how happy she felt leaving that place. Leaving her family behind for someone she knew for only a few days. A child's impulsive choice, blinded by rose-tinted glasses. Her biggest regret.
Annabeth thought she might cry, but suddenly, all of the lights inside the bunker came on, row by row, and pretty soon, the entirety of the pitch-black darkness was gone.
A few moments later, she found Percy jogging back to the truck in the direction he left, pulling spider webs from his clothes and face. He opened the passenger door, but did not get inside.
"All right, it took a while, but I found the fuse box. And I don't think there's any infected down here, because they would've heard me messing around in the main office. Still probably best to keep a look out, but it's a wide-open area, so they won't be able to sneak up on us."
Annabeth looked around in awe. The bunker's interior was unlike anything she could've guessed. It was enormous, spanning the height and width of Grand Central Station, and maybe even eclipsing that. There were old lockers and beds on the outer perimeter, leaving the middle barren and empty.
"It's...huge." Was all she could say. The architecture wasn't very impressive or pleasing to look at, but she could definitely respect the amount of time it must've taken to build something of this sheer size.
Percy stepped back from the passenger door and pointed to the side of the bunker, adjacent to the entrance. "Go ahead and park it right there along that wall. I'm gonna go back in the office and see if can't get those walls to close. We wouldn't want Project Atlas following us in here."
She couldn't argue with that. The last thing they needed was for more of those agents to show up, especially in a setting that offered no cover from gunfire. If even one squad of them came, her and Percy would be killed within seconds.
He closed the door and doubled back to the small office in the corner of the room, while she turned the wheel and parked parallel to the wall, doing her best to avoid scratching the mirror.
Annabeth turned the engine off and got out of the truck. At the same time, Percy had easily found the controls to close the walls. She glanced behind her as the thick slabs of metal began moving slowly towards each other, letting off a loud noise that sounded like two machines of war grinding against a stone floor.
The two met next to the truck, with Annabeth shaking her head, still admiring the spacious bunker. "Okay, how on Earth did you know about this place?"
"The outbreak began here in the city, so I got to experience the first wave before pretty much anyone else." As he explained, he opened the door to the backseat and unzipped his backpack, checking for something inside. It must've been whatever needed guarding. "Apparently, some higher ups in the government expected it to happen, so they took precautions and built bunkers all over the city to keep civilians in while they bombed the infected. I'm sure even you saw that on the news, right?"
She nodded, "Yeah. They did it everywhere. I remember the coverage on TV."
He tightened his lips and zipped the backpack. "The national guard found me and took me here, along with thousands of others. You wouldn't believe how fast it happened. How quickly people were turning. We were down here for weeks."
Up until this point, Annabeth just assumed that Percy always had it fairly easy, being behind the walls of Olympus for the majority of the outbreak. But she never considered what it must have been like on Day One for him. To be in the place where it all started, without warning, without preparation for the worst. At least her and her family knew what was going on before it reached them. He had no idea.
"How long did they intend to keep you here?" She asked.
He shrugged, "Not sure. It got to the point where people weren't rationing their food properly, and fights began to break out. Hunger took over, and it made people crazy. Eventually, the masses pretty much forced their way out, outnumbering the soldiers and killing them just to be set free."
As she listened, she tried to imagine what it would be like in his shoes. With the way he spoke, it sounded like he came alone, without his family, for weeks. Not knowing how bad it was getting outside, not being told a thing, having to watch people lose their minds and succumb to terror.
Sympathy crept into her tone, "I'm surprised you didn't lose your mind."
Percy chuckled humorlessly. "I almost did. But it wasn't all bad. I met Mr. Brunner here, and we talked about a lot of things. Grover..." His eyes glazed over with emptiness at the name, "...He was here too."
She wanted to ask him what happened back at Olympus. To Mr. Brunner, to Grover, to all of them, and why he had blood on his shirt, but she stopped herself. It would be hypocritical to ask him such things when she's not willing to disclose her own personal information. She had to remind herself that he wasn't her friend, or even her acquaintance. He was just a man who happened to be in the same boat as her, and temporarily in the same physical space. Nothing more.
Neither of them said another word about his past experience here. Percy seemed lost in thought, frozen in place, while Annabeth fought back a yawn. If she was going to finally begin her journey home, she'd need all the rest she could get. And with no infected in sight, within the walls of a secure bunker...she figured for once she could let go of her troubles and actually get some real sleep. Like her one-night stay at Olympus.
"Well...this will do for the night. Tomorrow, we'll come up with a plan on getting past the Project Atlas trucks around the city."
Percy raised an eyebrow, "Are you going to sleep?"
She nodded, "I'll grab a cot on the far side of the bunker away from the entrance. There aren't any other small rooms or places we need to check for infected, are there?"
"Nah, it's all clear."
"Alright, then we can both get some rest. No need for anyone to keep watch." Swiftly, she turned around and walked towards the opposite side of the giant room, finding a random cot in front of the dark green lockers along the wall. She kept her ammo belt on and laid down on the layer of fabric, holding her up like a hammock. It wasn't as soft or comfortable as a bed, but she'd gotten used to that feeling long ago. Save for her stay at Olympus, she hadn't slept with a pillow or a blanket in what felt like forever.
Just as she began to close her eyes, she heard Percy's footsteps make their way towards her. Craning her neck, she watched as he approached, taking the cot right next to hers, not eight feet away.
"What are you doing?"
He'd barely sat down when she asked the question. "What's it look like? I'm about to get some shuteye."
"If you think I'm sleeping next to you, you're insane."
Percy paused for a moment, then broke out into a chuckle, "I didn't even think of it like that, but okay..."
She glared, "I didn't either, you idiot. I meant I don't trust you, and you shouldn't trust me. Do you realize how easily I could kill you from this distance? I could wait until you fall asleep, slit your throat, take your gear, and be on my way without a second thought, and you would have taken no precaution for it."
The notion didn't even seem to faze him, which only annoyed her more. "Annabeth, if you wanted to kill me, you would've done it already. Same here. It's not like there weren't opportunities."
"Opportunities? What opportunities?"
"Back in the truck when you were driving. I could've strangled you, taken the wheel and caused us both to crash, grabbed that knife of yours and stabbed you...the list goes on."
Annabeth clenched her fists, "I was not that open! I was completely aware of anything you could've done!"
"Oh, I know," He put a hand over his heart and made a face, "I wouldn't have stood a chance."
She groaned, "You're insufferable!"
"One of my many gifts." He kept his carefree and amused gaze while she crossed her arms over her chest and glared daggers at the floor. She couldn't believe someone like this had survived for this long. Someone so...unassuming, so sloppy, so go with the flow. It had to be a mask. She'd seen him kill infected. His speed, his combat intelligence, his awareness, it earned him a longer life in this cruel world.
It wasn't lost on her at all what he was doing. And she wouldn't fall for it.
She heard him stand up and he sighed, catching her attention, "Look, if it really makes you uncomfortable, I'll move to another cot across the bunker. But you need to know that like it or not, we're on the same side right now, and if we want to even think about getting past Project Atlas, we'll need to work together." He smirked, "Your brains and my complete package."
She scoffed, "Right. Complete package."
He turned around and threw a small wave next to his head, his voice echoing against the natural acoustic of the bunker, "Goodnight, Wise Girl."
Annabeth rolled her eyes at the nickname and promptly threw herself back down on the cot, keeping her body faced in his direction.
When sleep overtook her, she had another nightmare.
It played out like many before, beginning with her standing in front of her house back home, nervous about seeing her family again.
Though the sun had been blocked out by dark clouds, the house's shadow still loomed over her. Annabeth felt like she was shrinking from the pressure, getting smaller until finally, she would no longer exist.
She took a step to knock on the door, but it flew open before her hand could even reach it. She jumped back. Before her, stood her father, with wide eyes, a double-barreled shotgun in his hand, aimed at her.
"Who are you?!" He shouted.
Annabeth ignored the gun and only focused on his face. He hadn't changed in the slightest. Even his clothes were a splitting image of the last time she saw him.
"Dad..." She breathed, finding herself able to move again, "It's me. Annabeth."
His eyes scanned her, starting at her shoes and stopping at the top of her head. He reared his head back in disgust.
"You're not Annabeth," He growled, "My daughter died a long time ago."
The building smile fell, "What? N-No, I'm right he-"
"Get out of here!" He roared, squeezing the shotgun with a tighter grip.
She backed up, nearly tripping off the porch when it dipped into the first step.
"Wait! I'm not dead! It's really me!" She lifted her arms up to prove it, "I...I made a mistake when I left. I know you probably don't want to see me, but I hoped-"
Her father snarled, bashing the barrel against her chest and knocking her back. She connected with the steps and tumbled down until she landed on her side in the middle of the street.
"I told you, my daughter's dead! I don't know you!"
All of a sudden, Annabeth felt her clothes get heavy, her skin caking with a foreign liquid, the smell of iron invading her nose. When she looked down, she screamed. Every inch of her had been covered in blood, dripping off her crevices and corners like syrup.
"Do you still think I'm a monster, Annabeth?"
Her father's voice had changed into another familiar baritone. Walking towards her, the shadow of her father morphed until it elongated its limbs, puffed its muscles and grew out its hair. Fog began seeping from the surrounding trees, smoke billowed out of the house like poison, encircling her with the figure.
"Luke?"
Faster than she could blink, he grabbed her by the collar and lifted her off the ground, forcing her to look into his demented eyes.
Luke looked like the demon she always imagined him to be. Matted blonde hair, yellow, gnarled teeth twisting into a horrifying smile, his scar glowing red like a stream of magma. The ease at which he lifted and held her...she knew he could kill her with a simple flex of his arm. That he could open the gates of hell themselves and throw her in to suffer for her choices. He would be her personal tormentor, to remind her of her biggest mistakes.
He yanked her towards him, placing his mouth right next to her ear, confirming every fear she held. "Did you really think he would take you back? After everything you've done? After all the people you've killed?"
Annabeth couldn't say a word due to his iron grip. Pretty soon, her entire body turned numb, and she stopped fighting back against him, accepting the inevitable fate that always came at the end of one of these.
Like many times before, the very knife that he gave her appeared in Luke's hand from thin air, and he aimed for her throat.
She woke up.
No pain, no fear, no begging, just...back to reality. Another day.
This time, thankfully, she didn't scream or frantically check her body to see if she had any stab wounds. She just opened her eyes and winced as the usual sharp headache pierced her skull.
"Oh, you're awake."
She stiffened, whipping her head around so quickly it's a wonder it didn't snap off. When she heard the voice, she feared the worst, that her nightmare had emerged from her head and become real. But when she matched the voice to Percy's face, she only curled her lip, remembering the day before.
"When did you get up?"
He was sitting on the cot next to her, fiddling with his sword, letting it fall back and forth between his hands while the sharp end anchored it to the floor. "About an hour ago. If I woke you up, I didn't mean to. I tried to be quiet."
Annabeth only stared at him. Was this some kind of subtle boast? A warning? Him showing her that he's in fact, one step ahead and in control? That at any point, he could've killed her?
She took note of his backpack sitting next to his feet, along with his old bloody shirt, draped at the head of the cot. She frowned, "I thought you were sleeping on the other side of the room."
"I did. But when I got up, I heard you whining and came to see what was wrong," He looked at her then, his face unreadable, "You must've been having a nightmare, because you wouldn't stop moving and whimpering. I thought you were going to cut yourself in your sleep." When he finished explaining, he pointed towards the ground behind her. Annabeth turned her shoulders to find that in the middle of the night, she'd somehow removed her knife from her belt and dropped it on the floor.
Her ears got hot with embarrassment. Percy watched her cry and thrash around in her sleep? Great. Now he probably thinks she's weak and fragile. Easy to take advantage of.
Before she could yell at him and set the record straight, he spoke again, in a softer tone this time. "I have nightmares too, so...I get it."
Annabeth didn't know how to respond. She was still angry that she'd left herself so vulnerable, and embarrassed that Percy saw her in such a weak state, that she could only huff a quick, "Whatever."
Now that she'd awoken, Percy took the opportunity to reach in his backpack and pull out a slab of metal. He began carefully grinding the piece back and forth against his sword, sharpening it in a steady pattern.
The loud noise made her wince with every stroke, but she decided to just let it pass. After all, he'd need his weapon to be in the best shape possible if they were going to take on Project Atlas agents.
Speaking of, "Have you come up with any bright ideas in the hour you've been up?"
"I started to..." His hand left the sword momentarily to lazily gesture at the bunker entrance, "Until that happened."
"What happened?"
"Thunderstorm. A really bad one, too. Judging by the sound, we won't be going anywhere for at least a few hours."
Annabeth's stomach began to churn. "Stop lying."
"I'm not. Go see for yourself."
A big part of her wanted to believe that he was just being stupid again, because she really didn't need another delay right now. Especially one that forced her to be stuck in one place, wasting an entire day.
But after she made her way to the towering walls and pressed her ear against it, she knew he wasn't lying. The muffled sound of constant thunder and pouring rain were clear. There was no way they would be able to see through the windshield if they left now.
She pressed her forehead against the walls and cursed under her breath. There's always something holding her back from getting home. Some obstacle that pops up out of nowhere to taunt her.
But she shouldn't expect it to be easy. Not after all she's done. If anything, she doesn't deserve to go home ever again.
Annabeth tore herself away from the walls and sighed, shuffling back over to her cot, her shoulders sagging. She practically fell on the fabric when she reached it, bouncing a single time and laying flat with her arms spread over the sides.
"I really, really don't need this shit right now." She let out a humorless laugh, "I mean, first it's next to impossible to even find a vehicle, and when I do, they're all kept on lockdown by thieves! God! Just when I thought I might have accomplished something...another thing holds me back. This time Mother Nature herself is taking a turn in beating me down."
"That's the way it is, Wise Girl. You think you're one step ahead, and then boom, life knocks you down yet again."
Her nose twitched, "If you call me Wise Girl again, I swear, I'll take that sword and shove it straight down your throat!"
Percy only smiled and put his hands up in surrender, which infuriated her, but she didn't do anything about it.
"What's the rush anyway? Why are you so desperate to get on the road?"
"It's none of your business."
"Really? You're seriously not even going to tell me where you're going? Not even a hint?" He shook his head, "That's cold."
"It's a smart survival tactic. If you had any shred of such, you'd be the same way. You can't trust anyone in this world." She looked away from him and lifted her chin a little, "I'd expect someone who's survived this long to understand at least that."
"I understand it, but there's a difference in turning your back on someone unarmed and telling them something as simple as where you're going once we get out of here. It can't be that big of a deal, can it?"
"It's not about how big of a deal it is. Anything small can escalate with actions, Percy. If I told you where I was going, say for example, a settlement of my old group. You could follow me in secret until I arrived, steal gear and supplies, or worse, kill our residents. One small detail can go a long way."
Silence fell for several moments, long enough for Annabeth to get curious and shift her head a little to glance at him. She found his stare one of complete bewilderment, as if he were looking at an exotic animal.
"Man...you must've been hurt really bad, huh?"
"Excuse me?"
"This world...it's really beaten you down. That or someone did something unforgivable to you in the past. Probably both."
Her eyes widened a fraction, "Hasn't it beaten us all down? Some of us just choose to move forward in different ways. I'm cautious."
"It's not just that," He argued, "You don't think there's any good left in the world."
She couldn't look at him any longer, because he surfaced dangerously close to the truth. "I never said that."
"You don't have to. I can see it in your eyes. You've been hurt."
"Yes. I have. And I won't let it happen again."
"Maybe...but doesn't it feel empty? To always assume the worst in people? To always be watching your back, never having a moment of true peace?"
It feels emptier than I can even describe, she wanted to say, but held her tongue, refusing to appear weak to him again. "It doesn't matter how it feels. It's safe."
"True, but always being paranoid...that's no way to live. To never trust anyone at all? You'd be by yourself until you die."
Annabeth looked at him again, her eyes narrowing harshly, her tone cold. "I never said that I intended to be by myself until I die, and I never said that I don't believe there's good in the world. You don't know me, I don't know you, and it's going to stay that way for the remainder of our time together. Once we get out of here and past the Project Atlas agents, we go our separate ways. Got it?"
Percy's gaze only deepened. She wondered what he was thinking, if he could read into the very depths of her soul and see that she was lying. That indeed, she did doubt if good still existed in the world, and she did worry that she'd end up by herself until her last days. It was all a front to keep herself safe, and she hoped he bought it.
He did something that caught her off guard. He sat his sword down and leaned towards her, placing his arms on his knees, never blinking as he spoke. "Annabeth, I've tried my entire life to be a good person, but if I'm being honest, I'm not. I've killed people. I've gotten people killed. I've made a lot of mistakes. But I have seen good. I know it exists, and I know that as long as there's dark, there's light. I'm still hopeful that there's a chance to turn things around and make the light outgrow the darkness. If...If I can play a part in that, even a small part...that's all I want. I just want to do something special. Something that makes me proud of myself for once."
The way he talked sent chills down her spine for some reason. He didn't miss a beat, and this time, it wasn't a sarcastic joke. She could tell that every word came from the heart, that he truly meant what he said. Annabeth could only listen speechlessly.
"I know you won't believe it, but I'm not going to hurt you, or plot behind your back to follow you to wherever you're going. I'm not like that. I just...want to do the right thing, you know? Isn't that what you want too, in your own way?"
For a second, she lost her voice. She'd been mesmerized by his little speech, realizing in her mind that she just bore witness to something special. A man making a vow not just to himself, but to the world.
She cleared her throat, "Yeah...yeah, I do."
He smiled, "Good." In a flash, the carefree tone returned, "Now, since we're both awake and stuck here, what do you say we pass the time a little? We could play a game."
"What game?" She snorted, "Did you bring playing cards in your backpack?"
He rasberried, "Nah, not that type of game. Something that doesn't require props, like twenty questions, truth or dare, or two truths one lie."
She deadpanned, "What did we just talk about? The whole no trusting thing, remember?"
"I wasn't going to ask anything personal, honest! Just surface level stuff!"
Annabeth rolled her eyes, "Play with your sword or something. I'm laying back down."
"Do you realize how dirty that sounded?"
"Shut up."
That suggestion turned out to be the worst thing she could've said, because not five seconds after her head hit the cot, Percy began sharpening his sword again, being louder on purpose this time to annoy her. He scraped the metal slab all the way across the blade, letting off a nasty sound, like nails on a chalkboard. Annabeth sharpened her own knife when she could, so she wasn't a stranger to the noise, but this was taking it to a whole other level.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She shot up from her position and moved the cot so it sat in line with Percy's. Once adjacent, she plopped down on the edge and glared at him, now sitting just three feet apart.
He raised an eyebrow, "Uh...I thought you said you were laying down."
"I'll play a stupid game if it means shutting you up."
The smirk that stretched on his face told her that she should've just put up with the noise.
"Okay, so here's how it works."
For the past two minutes, Annabeth sat in silence and watched Percy work to set up his "game" that he made up on the fly. He'd taken one of the cots next to them and placed it twenty-five feet from where they were sitting, tying his old, bloody shirt in the middle and letting it hang there.
Now, he stood in front of her, using his hands at every chance to proudly present his invention.
"The object of the game is simple. We each get turns in throwing that knife of yours towards the target, that being my old shirt, and if one of us hits it, we get to ask the other a question, and they have to answer."
At first, she didn't like the idea that he was still pushing this question-answer nonsense, but she figured this was as fair as it was going to get. It left the prospect up to skill, and she was willing to bet that she could throw a knife better than he could, so if anything, she might have to answer a couple of questions, while she'd learn everything about him by the time it was over.
"And if it hits the cot?" She asked.
"No question. Same if it misses it entirely. You only get to ask something if it hits the shirt, and the shirt only."
"What if the blunt end hits the shirt and doesn't stab through?"
He pondered this, "Hmm...that counts as a hit."
Seemed easy enough to grasp. "Alright."
Percy excitedly intertwined his fingers together and popped his knuckles, "You can go first."
Annabeth nodded and unsheathed her knife, easily spinning it around in her hand. It was fairly heavy and large, not ideal for throwing, but at this short distance, she could almost guarantee a fifty percent hit rate.
She took a moment to line up her shot and get her grip right, holding the sharp end between her thumb, her index finger, and her middle finger. Once she felt confident enough, she jerked her arm forward and released at the perfect time. The knife flipped and sailed in a big arc before crashing down near the hem of the shirt, cutting it and clanging on the floor.
Annabeth turned to Percy and lifted her chin in triumph, the corner of her lip lifting just a fraction.
"First try?" Percy laughed nervously, "I think I made a mistake here..."
"Oh, you did. You're going to be confessing to everything by the time I'm through with you, Jackson."
He took in a deep breath, "Alright, hit me with it."
"Don't worry, I'll start off easy." She nodded her head at the sword lying next to him on the cot, "What's the deal with that sword?"
He pressed his tongue to the side of his mouth, "Good one. That's broad, too. Covers all the little questions that come along with it."
"Yep. Sum it up for me."
On instinct, he picked it up and held it, running his fingers across the smooth metal in a way that reminded her of the old warriors from long ago, who were one with their weapon, viewing it as an extension of themself. To Percy, that sword probably felt like a piece of his own body.
"It was my father's. He liked Greek mythology and collected replicas of ancient weapons from that time. It's not an antique, though, it's actually really sharp and useful." He twirled it around a single time, "I named it Riptide. It's been with me since the beginning of all of this. Never done me wrong."
Annabeth nodded, finding it interesting that Percy got it from his father instead of just finding it in someone's apartment, deciding it was cool and keeping it for himself. There was more depth to the connection there than she would've guessed.
He sat the blade down and practically pranced to retrieve hers from the shirt. "My turn!"
Once he came back, he took his sweet time in making sure he hit the shirt. Closing one eye, stretching his arm, gripping the metal with every finger...Annabeth just watched on with amusement. He'd never hit that thing. He probably wouldn't even scratch the cot.
But Percy surprised her. Instead of pitching a careful, accurate shot, he left it all to strength and luck. He moved his arm far quicker than she did, and instead of the knife making a smooth arc, it shot straight forward and sunk clean through the right sleeve of the shirt, cot, and all.
She couldn't stop the way her face fell slack in shock, nor the disbelieving puff of breath at Percy's lopsided grin.
"Pure luck."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now I'll pass the weapon question back to you. What's the story with that knife?"
Annabeth knit her eyebrows, "That's what you're gonna ask? Really? Figured it would be something bigger."
It is big. That knife is the last piece of that...life that I have left.
She chose her words carefully, "A gift from an old friend. There's not really much to tell."
"Are they..."
Dead? She guessed. "No, he's not dead. Not physically, at least."
The stare she knew he gave her felt like the force of amplified gravity, weighing down on her, causing her skin to tingle and sting, sweat beginning to form. Please don't say anything else. Please. If you do, I may just unload and spill everything. All these secrets I've been keeping in for the past year.
Thankfully, he didn't. "I see. Well, I guess it's your turn now."
She nodded, feeling both relief and disappointment. Nobody should ever know about what happened in that period of her life, but at the same time, the satisfaction of getting it off her chest and talking about it, would be incredible.
The game went on, and Annabeth lost track of time. It could've been five minutes, or thirty, of them continuously missing the target after nailing it on their first tries. Annabeth at least got close, either hitting directly next to the shirt, or at the cot's corners. Meanwhile, Percy's first throw was just as she predicted. Luck. Not once did he hit the cot in numerous attempts. For a while, he would throw too hard, and then the next, he'd throw too weak, and at one point he got frustrated and tried throwing with different grips. It got the point where Annabeth had to try her best to not double over in laughter.
On the hundredth try, Percy managed to hit a bullseye. The knife collided with the center of the shirt vertically, causing no rips or cuts. He immediately whooped, "Finally! Hell yeah!"
Annabeth had to admit to herself, as much as she didn't like opening up, she was glad he finally got another hit. She was beginning to get tired of the constant knife retrievals.
"Man, I never thought it was going to happen! I'm sweating!" He gestured wildly to his arms, glistening with moisture, "Look at me! I'm sweating!"
She snickered, "I see that. Better not waste the question, buddy, you spent half an hour trying to get it."
Percy rubbed his hands together, "Ah, you're right, you're right. I've gotta make this count. Let's see..."
Watching the way he fiddled with his thumbs and bobbed his head around, pouting his lip, trying to think of a question, Annabeth smirked. This...had to be a mask. It had to be. Nobody is like this in the apocalypse, not anymore at least. People don't act the way they did when the world was normal, when their lives weren't being threatened by flesh-eating monsters, uprooted by starvation, oppressive groups of thieves, or the planet being burned. To be able to have fun...it shouldn't be possible. It should be the last thing on anyone's mind.
But Percy...was very convincing. It had to be genuine. Why would anyone fake this? Go through all the trouble of creating some stupid game in a bunker, to pass the time with a stranger he doesn't even know?
Just the way he talked about Mr. Brunner...he clearly thought of him as a father figure. He cared about Grover, that one red-headed girl, and all of those people within the walls of his camp. She'd seen the way that place worked. It reminded her of a small-town community, where everybody knows everybody, helps each other in times of need, and does their part.
It's not like understanding that concept is so far away for her, after all. She remembers the feeling. To pretend that Percy is privileged because he survived within a community for so long would be unfair. It would be hypocritical.
"Hey, Percy..." She began, her mouth ahead of her brain, "...can I cheat a little?"
That broke him from his brainstorm, "Cheat?"
"Yeah. I'm curious about something."
"Well...I guess I can allow a freebie. What's up?"
"What did you do before all of this? I mean, do you remember your life well before everything happened?"
"I do. I mean, it was only three years ago, you know."
"A long three years."
"True." He let out a big sigh, "Other than swim, I guess I didn't do much of anything, except get into trouble. I got kicked out of schools, blamed it all on my dyslexia, my ADHD, but really, I was just lazy. I spent most days skateboarding, graffitiing, trespassing, occasional drinking, and other stupid crap. If I'm being honest, the apocalypse was good for me, in a way. It matured me a bit. Made me want to be better."
"I'd never guess you were a delinquent, Percy."
He shrugged humbly, "Yeah, yeah, I know, it's hard to imag-" Finding Annabeth's knowing deadpan was enough to shut him up and frown, "Oh...you're being sarcastic, huh?"
"Of course I am. I can totally see it."
"Yeah, and I'm guessing you were the exact opposite, right? Cause' I can totally see that too, Wise Girl. Let me guess, teacher's pet? Actually likes reading? Asks for more homework just for fun?"
"Shut up, I wasn't that much of a stiff. I mean, I made good grades-"
"Straight A's." He corrected.
"Straight A's, yes. And I liked reading-"
"You read a book a day."
"One summer I did, sure. I never asked for homework, but-"
"You enjoyed it."
She tucked her tongue in her cheek and narrowed her eyes playfully, "Are you telling my life story, or am I?"
"Sorry. It's just so obvious. You've got Harvard written all over you."
"Yeah...I had everything going for me. I wanted to be an architect, had a bunch of options for schools, the whole nine yards. I really did like it, all the academic stuff, the clubs, class presidency...but it was just a stupid attempt to get attention from my dad."
"Huh? Why would you do all of that just to get attention from your dad?"
"Intelligence makes him proud. Before my stepmom came along, it was just he and I, and whenever I'd get a good report card, or stay up all night working on my science project, he'd run his hand across the top of my head and look at me in a way that made me feel like the most important girl in the world. It made me try so hard, because I knew that whenever I showed him that letter on the top of every paper, or first place on every project...he would give me that same feeling."
It was hard to look him in the eye after that. It had been a long time since she'd spoken about her father to anyone, or let alone even had a conversation this long. Surprisingly, it didn't feel as bad as she feared.
"Stepparents," He scoffed, "They suck."
She lifted her head, "Huh?"
"My stepdad was a real asshole. Treated my mom and I like trash."
"Oh. Well, I can't blame Helen for all of it. I wasn't exactly an angel."
"So...I guess we've got at least one thing in common."
"Yeah. Guess so."
She felt him stare at her a moment longer, then noticed him stand up in her peripheral. "You know..." He paused, his footsteps getting softer, louder, then appearing back in her peripheral, a silver glint in it now. "...I still haven't asked my question."
Annabeth hummed, pushing back the hair that had fallen in her face. For once, she decided to just let her mind be free, no worries, no overthinking. Whatever he asked, she would tell the truth. It was a chance. A risk. But if it meant retaining some normalcy, she'd take it.
"Is that where you're going? Back to your dad?"
There it was.
She must have made a face, because Percy immediately took it back, "Already asked where you were going earlier, didn't I? I shouldn't pry, I'm sorry-"
"No, no, it's okay."
"But earlier-"
"I know what I said earlier. But someone might as well know." This is it, no holding back. "A year ago...I got in a big argument with my dad- with my whole family, and ended up leaving them for a group of survivors. Their leader, he promised a lot of things, freedom being one of them. He was smooth, charismatic, and capable. I trusted him, but he turned out to be a different person than what I hoped for. A...God, a lot of things happened within those five months. Things that I don't think I'll ever be able to talk about to anyone, even my own family if I see them again. The things I did, the things he did, what we all did in the name of 'survival' are unforgivable. I mean, I can't even believe I'm even touching on it at all with you. I barely know you."
"You don't have to, Annabeth. Seriously. I know that some things are best kept to yourself. We don't have to play this dumb game anymore."
"But I want to talk about it. Don't you understand? Haven't you ever done something, o-or had something happen to you that you swear you'll take to your grave, but it just eats away at you? To the point where all you want to do is shout it at the sky, tell a random stranger, or hell, just write it down over and over again just to get it off your chest?"
He nodded, "Yes."
"Then you know what I'm talking about. I'm ashamed of how stupid I was. I'm ashamed that I fell for his promises and left everything I ever loved and knew behind. That's why I have to go back home. To see them again and beg for forgiveness. Even if they don't accept me back...at least I'll know the answer. I won't have to wonder what might have been for the rest of my life."
With that, she said all that she wanted to say. The feeling afterward wasn't quite the one she expected. She expected fear, nervousness, but most of all, regret. Instead, she felt...lighter. Like the vice grips clamped to her legs had been removed.
Percy admired her weapon, nodding knowingly. "You still keep his knife."
"I do. Some things can't be forgotten, you know?"
A genuine question, and he gave a genuine answer. "I know. It's the color blue for me."
She cocked her head in confusion, so he began to explain, "Growing up, once a week, my mom would always make food with blue coloring dye. Sometimes it would be cake, pancakes, cookies, or anything really. But they would always be blue."
"Why would she do that?"
"I remember asking her when I was little, and she told me, if cookies can be blue, then anything's possible. And I never forgot that, so every time I see the color blue, I think of her."
I think of her. Implying that she...
"I'm sorry."
He nodded solemnly, "The first time I killed an infected. After that, and with the state of the world, it was really hard to keep going."
Her heart ached for him. Imagining herself being put in that position with her father terrified her. "I...can't even begin to fathom having to do that."
Percy flashed a quick, forced smile, then changed the subject, "So, where does your family live?"
"Virginia. Small town. Average sized house."
"Woah, that's not gonna be a short journey. I'm starting to see why you stole a Project Atlas truck."
"Well, at first the intention was to steal a car from the Scavengers. We got into a little scuffle, so I used my brain to bring in a third party. Hence..." She presented the truck with her hand.
Percy tried to put the pieces together, "Wait, you pitted Project Atlas against the Scavengers?"
"Yeah, but it didn't exactly go down the way I thought. They completely outmatched the Scavengers, so they let them do whatever they wanted. I figured they would kill them, but...they did something even worse. They turned them."
And she remembered it well, too. The way those agents let the infected off their leashes without remorse, watching men lose themselves and become something entirely different from human.
Oddly, Percy didn't seem surprised by this. If anything, it confirmed something for him. She didn't comment on it, but she did take a mental note of it and kept it in the back of her mind.
He carefully tossed the knife back to her, "Some game, huh? I think I should probably quit while I'm ahead."
She sheathed the knife and made a face at him, "Aw, you're not even going to let me ask one last question to end on?"
He rolled his eyes and laid back on the cot, folding his arms behind his head. "Fine, one more freebie. Shoot."
"Were you really a swimmer? Like, tight black underwear and everything?"
Percy let out a protesting sound and turned his head to hide a creeping blush, which only made it all the more fun for her. "No! I never, ever put those stupid trunks on! I used the school pool, but never competed!"
"Oh, come on. You're telling me you never tried a pair on out of curiosity?"
"No!"
"So you just ditched class and swam? Is that it? You just wanted some place to calm your thoughts?"
"Pretty much. The water has always calmed me down, made me feel...centered, you know? If you couldn't find me in the pool, you'd find me in the ocean. Always near water."
Annabeth snorted, "Guess that's why you have so much seaweed in your head."
Percy's face of surprise at her quip was enough to send her over the edge, "Well done, Ms. Chase. A plus for our star pupil."
She laughed. She actually let out a laugh from her gut, a sound she hadn't produced in months, a feeling of happiness she hadn't allowed herself to feel for years. Just to enjoy a stupid joke in the apocalypse, it almost felt rebellious against the universe.
When it died down, she ended up wiping a forming tear in her eye, her smile making her face sore. Percy wouldn't stop staring at her, in this puzzling sparkle of mirth and adoration. When was the last time another human being looked at her like that?
"What?"
He smiled softly, "Nothing. I've just never seen you smile or laugh before. It's...really nice. You should do it more often."
Annabeth didn't mean for it, but her body reacted in a way she couldn't stop or control, a blush instantly coming to her cheeks as a result of his words. She tried to fight it down, but it was no use. Even her, with all her willpower and determination, couldn't ignore the flutter her chest felt when receiving a compliment.
"If you keep acting like a doofus, maybe I will."
"You can count on that."
They held their gaze in the moments that followed, with Annabeth not intending to break it. Suddenly, she noticed things about him she hadn't been paying attention to before. Like how his hair seemed to have a mind of its own, falling in his face, sweeping to the side, causing mischief by his ears, or how mesmerizing his green eyes were. Almost like emeralds, or rare pearls found on the ocean floor.
But as quick as the moment came, Percy tilted his head upward, breaking the trance. "You know, I haven't felt the bunker shake in a long time. The storm may have passed. Want me to check?"
Annabeth pondered it for a second, and pulled her knife back out. "Not yet. I could go for another round, but no questions this time. Let's just see who's the more accurate thrower."
The grin she earned from that, told her that maybe it wasn't so bad to think about other things besides her goal. At least, every now and then. If there really is good left in the world, she won't find it looking from only one perspective.
"You're on."
-x-