The morning was cold, the kind of chill that seeped into your bones and refused to leave. Percy tightened the straps of his pack, his fingers brushing against the worn leather grip of his pistol at his hip. Beside him, Leo adjusted his jacket, which had more patches than original fabric. The two stood just outside the hospital, their breaths misting in the early light. Behind them, Annabeth and the others lingered, their faces a mix of caution and hope.
"Stick to the route we planned," Annabeth said, her tone sharp, but her eyes softened as they flicked to Percy. She stepped closer, handing him a folded map with marked routes and landmarks. "Avoid the main roads, stay quiet, and don't do anything stupid."
Percy smirked. "You make it sound like I'm prone to reckless heroics."
Annabeth didn't smile. "You are. Just... don't this time, okay?"
Percy nodded, his usual humor fading. "I'll be careful."
Leo, standing off to the side, looked between the two and rolled his eyes. "Okay, mom and dad, we get it. Be safe, don't die. Let's hit the road before someone decides to start with the long goodbyes."
Annabeth shot him a glare, but Leo's quip had broken some of the tension. Piper handed Percy a spare knife, its blade gleaming dully in the light. "Just in case," she said. "And if you run into trouble..."
"We run," Percy finished. "I know."
With that, the two set off, leaving the hospital and its familiar ruins behind.
The streets were a graveyard of civilization. Broken storefronts lined their path, their shattered windows gaping like empty mouths. Cars were abandoned in the middle of the road, their frames rusted and interiors stripped. Overhead, the skeletal remains of skyscrapers loomed, their jagged edges piercing the overcast sky.
Percy's boots crunched over the uneven asphalt, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness. His boots were sturdy but not comfortable—the soles thin from wear, letting him feel every sharp edge beneath his feet. Leo didn't fare much better, his sneakers duct-taped at the seams, their worn treads offering little grip.
"What do you think this place used to be like?" Leo asked, breaking the silence as they passed a toppled traffic light.
Percy glanced at him, scanning the empty street ahead. "I don't know. Busy, probably. People rushing to work, grabbing coffee, honking at each other in traffic. Normal stuff."
Leo snorted. "Bet it didn't smell this bad, though."
Percy smirked, but his focus stayed on the road. He was keenly aware of the weight of his pistol against his side, the way his hand hovered near it with every step. The air felt heavier the closer they got to their destination, and the stillness carried a tension that set his nerves on edge.
"What do you think this camp is like?" Leo asked after a moment.
Percy shrugged. "No idea. Could be a group of friendly survivors. Could be another pack of psychos." He shot Leo a sidelong glance. "You still good with this?"
Leo's grin didn't quite reach his eyes. "You kidding? I love walking into potentially deadly situations."
After hours of walking, the first signs of the camp came into view. Smoke curled lazily into the sky, the faint scent of burning wood carrying on the breeze. Percy motioned for Leo to crouch behind a row of rusted-out cars, and the two of them peered over the hoods.
The camp was enclosed by a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. The fence itself was reinforced with wooden panels and sheets of corrugated metal, a makeshift fortification that looked sturdy enough to keep out the dead—or anyone unwelcome. At the gate, two men stood guard, rifles slung casually over their shoulders. They looked relaxed but alert, their eyes sweeping the road ahead.
Inside, white canvas tents were arranged in neat rows, their pristine appearance starkly contrasting with the filth of the outside world. Men—most of them white and dressed in military-style clothing—moved with purpose. They carried rifles, pistols, and the occasional machete, their weapons a natural extension of themselves. Women were present too, though fewer in number, tending to communal fires or moving supplies. They seemed quieter, their interactions subdued.
"Damn," Leo muttered. "These guys look... well-fed. And armed. A little too armed."
Percy nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the camp. "They're organized. Military maybe. Or something like it."
"Yeah, but they don't look like they're starving." Leo gestured toward a man unloading crates of canned goods from a truck near one of the larger tents. "You think they'd be willing to share?"
Percy didn't answer right away. Something about the place felt off, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The people inside the camp moved with a kind of discipline that suggested they weren't just surviving—they were thriving. And yet, the sight of so many weapons made his stomach churn.
"We're going in," he said finally.
Leo looked at him, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "You sure about this?"
"No," Percy admitted. "But we need to know what we're dealing with."
The guards stopped them at the gate, their rifles raised but not aimed. Percy raised his hands slowly, his tone calm. "We're not looking for trouble. Just passing through and heard there was a camp."
The guards exchanged a look before one of them disappeared inside. Moments later, a tall, broad-shouldered man emerged. He wore a black vest over a gray shirt, a handgun holstered at his side. His sharp blue eyes studied them like they were specimens under a microscope.
"I'm Davis," he said. "You're lucky we're feeling generous today. Come on in."
Percy and Leo exchanged a glance but followed him inside.
Up close, the camp was even more impressive. The paths were swept clean, the tents pristine. There was no trash, no sign of decay. Men worked methodically, reinforcing parts of the fence or patrolling the perimeter. A group practiced at a makeshift firing range, their shots cracking sharply in the air.
The women were quieter, tending to a communal kitchen or sitting in small clusters. Their interactions were subdued, their laughter rare. Percy noticed one of them flinch when a man barked an order nearby.
"What's the deal with this place?" Leo whispered.
"I don't know," Percy said, his voice low. "But keep your eyes open."
Davis led them to a large tent near the back of the camp. Inside, a folding table was set up with clipboards, pens, and stacks of papers.
"You'll need to fill these out," Davis said, gesturing to the forms. "Basic information. Name, age, skills. Standard stuff."
Percy picked up a clipboard, scanning the questions. Most were simple—name, age, useful skills—but as he read further, his stomach tightened. Some of the questions were strange: Do you have military experience? Do you have children? What are your views on community loyalty?
Leo raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, his pen scratching against the paper as he filled out his form. Percy followed suit, though he hesitated over some of the stranger questions.
When they were done, Davis collected the forms without reading them. "You'll stay the night. We'll talk more tomorrow."
As they were led to a small tent near the edge of the camp, Percy couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting the camp in shadows. Despite the glow of the fire pit and the distant hum of conversation, the unease in his chest only grew.
