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~ Seeking Elysium ~

"i want to fight it, to be the best i can"

✦ percy ✦

Percy doesn't know what to think.

Or how to feel.

The 24 year old grips Estelle's hand just a little tighter as they warily make their way through the abandoned hotel's parking lot. Although it shouldn't, his gaze keeps falling to Annabeth, who's moving silently a few steps ahead.

Or rather, it keeps falling to the back of her head.

Another wave of distrust floods his chest as he studies her wavy shoulder length hair and the bloodstained baseball bat gripped between her fingers. It's stained black and red.

Of course, he can't hold that against her. He knows the world that they live in now.

But there's still something off about her.

And if he's learned one thing since the Outbreak, it's to trust his gut.

Focus, Percy. He curses himself as he drags his gaze away from the blonde in front of him and turns to peer at the half rusted, half broken cars that they pass by. A part of him is still waiting for another wounded Remainder to crawl out from behind one of them like Jackson did.

To collapse on the ground with their organs half spilling out, begging for assistance like Jackson did.

To die like Jackson did.

Percy bites the inside of his cheek and forces his thoughts to focus on something else. Jackson was already halfway to turning. He had done him a favor.

...Right?

Or is he just thinking that to make himself feel better? The 24 year old doesn't want to know.

The next few minutes are spent in silence before they finally reach the main road. Now that the sky is light and the sun is out, Percy can properly see the disarray that's overtaken the city. It's pitiful to look at.

Trash is strewn all over the place, fluttering in the dirty wind; the only solid remnant of the humans that had once lived there. A few power lines are completely toppled, small flickers of electricity still sparking and crackling every now and then over the wood.

Percy's gait slows just a little as he takes in the mess that so vividly represents the rest of the broken country, but manages to push on.

One would think that he'd be used to sights like this after 7 months on the road.

Annabeth heads straight to the large Central Park sign, where he can see a black backpack and an equally dark duffel bag propped up against the base. A light scoff bubbles past his lips as he watches her drop her weapons and move to sling the bags over her shoulder.

Her bad shoulder.

"You're kidding," he mutters to himself. Estelle merely looks on in slight confusion. Percy strides over to the blonde, his mouth opening to speak. "What do you think you're doing?" He stops right behind her.

Annabeth slowly turns, attempting to hide the grimace that's obviously a product of her pain but fails while doing so. Her harsh grey eyes flicker up to his face. "What are you talking about?" Her words are clipped and short and a little gruff, nothing out of the ordinary.

Percy stares down at her for a few moments before shaking his head. He gestures to her hand gripping the handles of both bags. "That."

The blonde rolls her eyes and huffs. "I'm fine, Percy."

"I don't see why you're lying," is his response. The 24 year old narrows his eyes at her. "Your shoulder is far from healed."

Annabeth gives him another one of her looks. This time it's the dangerous one that makes him question her trustworthiness. The one that tells him she's analyzing the best way to take him down in a fight and leave him for dead. "It's none of your business."

Percy exhales heavily before giving her a blank look. "I fought hard for those bandages you're wearing. Making sure that they're used to their fullest capacity is completely my business."

The blonde sighs and the dangerous glint in her eyes disappears. "Fine." Then, with a low grunt, she transfers the bag handles to her opposite hand. "Is that better?"

The 24 year old stares at her with a pokered expression. "So you're gonna swing that baseball bat of yours with a bad shoulder?" He couldn't have held back the snort even if he tried. "Do you need help?"

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing and frown appearing. "No."

He shrugs, balancing his rifle over his shoulder while absentmindedly rubbing the top of Estelle's head. "It's your funeral, then." Percy turns and mutters under his breath. "Well, it's your shoulder's."

If Annabeth hears his latter comment, she doesn't let it show. "We need to keep moving. Does your car have gas?"

He glances over at her before shaking his head. "About a half tank left, from what I remember. You?"

"Three quarters full. I guess we'll have to take my Jeep," she huffs. "Let's go, we're wasting daylight."

.✧✦✧.

Silence has never been so uncomfortable.

Percy fails to unclench his jaw throughout the entire drive, his fingers curling tensely over the steering wheel. His gaze darts back and forth between the abandoned cars that line the back roads to the half grown trees bursting from dense soil.

They've been driving for 20 minutes, picking off any of the Infected that's in their path and trying to swerve the dead bodies that pile into the street. The blonde beside him says that they still have over 5 miles left to go. His foot presses down on the accelerator, quickening the speed of the vehicle.

Fresh supplies are so close. Only a few more miles left to go. Only a few more mi-

"Slow down," Annabeth's voice pulls his attention away from the blur of green and rust. "You're burning gas."

That lifts his eyebrows. "You're the one that's in a hurry." He glances over to see her grey eyes fixated on him.

Annabeth shakes her head before turning back towards the windshield. "Getting there on time won't mean anything if there isn't enough gas to get out."

She's right, he realizes. So the twenty four year old eases off the accelerator, albeit begrudgingly. The next few minutes contain only Estelle's airy breaths, Annabeth's occasional huff, and his own tense intakes of air.

"Can you stop doing that?"

The blonde turns sharply. "What are you talking about?"

Percy glances over at her again before focusing on the road again, his jaw tensing a bit tighter. "Your leg. Stop pumping it like that."

He can feel her scowl. "What, is it a crime now?" Her chin tugs upwards in a challenging manner. Through the corner of his eye, he sees that she begins to pump her leg a bit faster.

The 24 year old resists the urge to scoff. "It's distracting."

"If a moving leg is a distraction to you, I think you have bigger problems to worry about." The blonde tuts, her wavy hair swishing around her neck.

Behind the both of them, Estelle giggles into her hand.

Percy's eyes snap up to the rear view mirror, the essence of faux betrayal prickling his skin. "Is this funny to you, Stella?"

Her baby blue irises dance as she nods and grins, her teeth biting her lip. His little sister manages to breath out a quick, "Yes," before dissolving into giggles again.

He can't keep from smiling at the sound and sight of her happiness. Percy settles for shaking his head. "The betrayal is real. You're supposed to be on my side, girl."

"Well clearly being on your side is overrated." Annabeth rolls her eyes before wincing as she readjusts herself in her seat.

The 24 year old cuts her a glance but doesn't respond. A quick thought scatters across the forefront of his mind but he manages to keep it at bay, deciding that burning his bridges so soon isn't worth the risk.

Before long, Estelle's quiet laughter softens into silence and the air inside the Jeep is again sunken into tension. Percy keeps an eye out for straggling Infects.

The more he can kill, the better. The more he kills, the less they kill or turn.

They drive only a few miles before a limping silhouette looms into view, off in the distance. A quick study of its gait tells him that it's a lone Yellow. He eases on the brakes and reaches for his seatbelt, prepared to exit the car and do what needs to be done.

But then Annabeth's hand comes to a rest on the steering wheel. He looks over to see those thunder tainted irises of hers piercing into his own. The blonde shakes her head. "I'll do it."

He doesn't mean to, but his gaze falls to her bandaged shoulder.

And she doesn't fail to notice. "I'm not helpless," she scowls. "Stay here. I need to pull my weight."

The way she says that last phrase, that she needs to pull her weight raises more questions than he'd like. But before the twenty four year old can finish debating on whether or not he should ask, she's already clambering out of the car and sliding her machete from its sheath.

So he watches, tense, as she approaches the Infect.

He's expecting to see her slice off its head in under 3 seconds and head back into the car as if nothing had happened. But that isn't the case.

At first, nothing happens. She just stands there.

Percy glances at the sky for a moment before focusing his attention back on her, slight impatience lacing his chest. He huffs under his breath, "What the hell is she doing?"

Then, Annabeth lifts a hand. The twenty four year old watches, confused, as she drags her hand around the Infect's face and tilts her head in the same direction. Her hand sings though the air, her fingers fluttering and her neck craning.

And the Infect just stands there. It doesn't attack, it doesn't even move. It just stands there, its head following the movements of her hand. Then, Annabeth lifts her machete and presses the flat against its face. Even still, the Infect doesn't move away.

"What..." Percy breathes out, distrust overflowing his veins as he takes in the scene in front of him. "What is happening?" He glances through the rear view mirror again to see Estelle watching too, the same genre of confusion branding her youthful features.

When he turns his attention back to Annabeth, she's dragging the machete down the Infect's face. Then, with the speed of a viper, the blonde digs the blade into its throat to the hilt.

The Infect springs into action but it's too late.

She raises her good leg and kicks it away, its head flying off towards her. Annabeth narrowly dodges it and slides her machete back into the sheath. The Yellow's body crumples to the ground and even from his position in the car, Percy can see the small pool of black blood steadily spreading against the withered asphalt.

"Don't get in the car until you wipe off," he says as soon as the passenger door opens. He keeps his gaze focused on the fallen Infect just a few feet in front of the car.

"Do you have any wipes?" Is her cool toned response.

"Stella." He calls over his shoulder before dragging his gaze away from the collapsed body and turning towards his little sister. "Wipes, please."

The almost 4 year old nods and digs into her backpack. She hands Percy the packet of wipes, who in turn tosses it to the blonde. Annabeth catches it with her good hand and begins wiping the stained blood droplets from her forearms, hands, and neck. Percy can't bring himself to look at her for more than few seconds.

Suspicion and distrust fizzles in his blood, telling him to take Estelle and run in the opposite direction. But he has to ignore it. He isn't a fool. The prospect of fresh medical supplies is too good to pass up.

They continue on their way when she's finally done cleaning up. He lets a few more minutes pass before he breaks the silence and addresses the question that's hanging in the air. "What was that back there?"

"What are you talking about?" She feigns ignorance horribly.

He tries to choose his words carefully, but fails. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." Subtlety has never been his strong suit, anyways.

Annabeth turns to stare at him, the treacherous glint reappearing in her eyes without a doubt. "Don't worry about it." Her words are cold.

He waits a few moments for the weight of her words to process before slamming the Jeep to a stop. Percy turns to look at her, making sure to keep his words blank. "Let me make one thing clear to you." His eyes narrow. "I'm putting my life," he then gestures towards Estelle,"and her life in your hands by agreeing to follow you out here. I already don't trust you, Annabeth. Saying sh- stuff like that isn't helping your case."

All expression falls from her face as she cocks her head. "Well trust me on this, Percy. If I wanted to kill either of you, I would've done so already."

He huffs in empty humor and pushes on the accelerator, pulling the car back into motion. "I've heard that line way too many times to believe it anymore."

"And that honestly sounds like a personal problem," is her gruff response. Then, after a tense pause, she continues. Her words are softer by a fraction of a degree. "Just... don't worry about it, alright? It isn't a danger to you, or to Stella."

The 24 year old tries not to tense up at the sound of Estelle's nickname coming from her mouth. You don't know her well enough to call her that, he wants to say. But he doesn't.

So instead, Percy tries to believe her words. But after a few moments of trying in silence, he finds that he can't do that either.

They remain quiet for the rest of the car ride. After a few more idle directions from Annabeth, they pull into the hospital parking lot. The 24 year old slows the Jeep to a crawling speed, keeping an eye out of any of the Infected.

He tugs his Yankee baseball cap lower over his head and pulls into a parking space a little ways from the entrance. Annabeth unbuckles her seat belt and grips her weapons. Percy does the same.

But then he opens his door to head to Estelle's aid, and the stench hits his nostrils with the strength of an uppercut. The 24 year old reaches over and slams the door closed, pressing the fabric of his shirt against his nose.

"What are you doing?" Annabeth stares at him.

He shakes the grimace from his face and turns to her. "It stinks out there."

The question mark doesn't leave her expression. "It stinks everywhere, Percy." She rolls her eyes and turns towards her door, prepared to exit.

The 24 year reaches over and closes her door. Then, he leans back while shaking his head. "No, you don't understand." He pauses for a moment, his gaze sliding over to his younger sister before he continues. "It smells like-"

"The Infected." She finishes. "Not the dead."

He nods.

Annabeth looks like she's about to curse. "Well then that means..." She trails off and her irises fall on Estelle as well.

Shit. Percy rips off his cap and sinks a hand into his hair. "A herd. There's a herd around here somewhere. And we've got to find it before they find us."

A/N: Thank you so much for reading, and thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter! Y'all are the best :)

Another question: How long do you think you'd last in the zombie apocalypse, realistically?

I'd think I'd last about 3 weeks to around a month and a half. aklsnf;asnds I am NOT athletic and have zero experience with weapons.

Next chapter will be out when we get 12 more reviews!

~ everyshadedsilver