Summary: When the world has been taken over by a twisted ruler named Kronos, there are two classes: the very poor-class (Poor-Bloods) or the very rich-class (Pure-Bloods.) Percy Jackson and his group, called the Half-Bloods, decided to rebel against Lord Kronos. They steal from the Pure-Bloods to give to the Poor-Bloods. Like a modern day Robin Hood. Annabeth Chase was forced to follow her crippled dad to New York after an accident. While she's there she discovers new friends, new enemies, and a new adventure with the Half-Bloods. But is everything a lie with her?

Disclaimer: I don't on Percy Jackson.

Chapter 1

Gunshots were heard, echoing off of the torn New York buildings, as a dark silhouette raced down the abandoned streets; running from men in police cars. The cars' sirens were screaming and pistols were held outside of the shotgun seat. They were trying, but failing, to shoot the man. The man was carrying two sacs in his left hand while the right arm was pumping as he sprinted. Because of the darkness of night, you couldn't see much of his features. He stole a quick glance over his shoulder only to see the cars catching up. Desperately, he took a sharp left into an alley.

The cars skidded and followed him, only to be met with a brick wall. Coppers fumbled out of their vehicles, with guns fully loaded, and searched for the man. But he was nowhere in sight.

A man with a badge pinned to his black uniform and a scar under his left eye, slammed the door to his car. After taking a look around, he growled in frustration and threw his hat onto the stone floor, revealing his sandy blonde hair.

"God blast it!" shouted the man with the scar. "He slipped away again! That weasel!"

"That's the sixth time this month we've lost 'em," called a police officer. "The Lord will have our heads on display!"

"No," grumbled the man with the scar. "He'll have my head. It was my responsibility to bring them, dead or alive. I've failed him again."

"It ain't your fault. No one has been able to catch them yet. No one knows where they come from or who they are."

"We know the name one of them; their leader to be exact."


"His name is Percy Jackson." The man with the scar looked up at the night sky. "Do you hear me? We'll find you, Percy Jackson! We'll find you where you disappear to and we'll kill every last one of you! You hear me?"

Above the alley, leaning over the edge of the roof, was the same man the policemen had been chasing—Percy Jackson. He chuckled and hurled the bags over his shoulder. "I highly doubt it." With those words, he turned around and jumped to the next building's roof, as graceful and silent as a gazelle.

About thirty minutes later, he arrived at a small beach. The tide was just coming in and the full moon was right above him, reflecting onto the sea. The gentle waves left a trail of wet sand as it pulled back. The ocean breeze filled his nostrils and calmed his thoughts. With a content sigh he walked over to a cabin on the shore.

It didn't look much like a cabin, really. More like a regular one-story house. The door was in the very middle with three small windows on each side of it. There were three solid steps that led up to the door and a chimney rested on the roof, with puffs of smokes floating out of it. The forest lay just inches behind the cabin, swaying in the breeze.

Now that the man was in moonlight, you could see his features clearly. He was not much older than seventeen. His windswept black hair was in a natural mess and his eyes were an unusual sea-green color. They resembled much of the ocean. Restless, rebellious and moody. And free; as if no one in the world controlled him.

The man smiled. "Home, sweet home." He opened the door slowly and tip-toed in. The only light was emanating from a small candle. Three brown couches were sitting opposite of each other, with their backs facing the left, right and back walls. Behind the wall on the left were the boys' bunks and behind the right wall were the girls' bunks. Between the couches was a glossy oak coffee table. Past the couches was an island that had a sink and discarded silverware and dishes left on it. And past that were the kitchen appliances: the fridge, the microwave, oven and some counter space. Yeah, this was definitely more than a regular cabin.

He gave a big sigh, plopped onto the couch on the left and was out like a light.

Someone was shaking his shoulder, interrupting his dreamless sleep.

"What?" he croaked, pulling the couch pillow over his head.

"At least we know he's alive," someone muttered sleepily.

"Percy," said a feminine voice. "Don't make me get the bucket."

Percy was instantly alert as he sat up hastily. "No, not again!"

The group surrounding him laughed. There were a total of fifteen teenagers surrounding him. Some might find this sight strange, but Percy found it familiar. "What is it?"

A girl with spiky black hair and electric blue eyes shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, we just wanted to see if you came back in one piece."

Percy pouted. "You're doubt in my skills hurt, Thalia."

"Don't mind her, she was actually worried for you," said Piper, a girl with choppy brown hair and kaleidoscope eyes.

"Yeah, she was totally worried when she threatened to use the bucket," a Latino looking boy with an impish grin, dark eyes and curly black hair shuddered.

Percy chuckled. "Is breakfast ready? We need to make another delivery today."
Thalia's younger brother, Jason, a boy with blonde hair and the same electric blue eyes answered. "Katie has it started already."

Percy stood up and stretched, wincing when he heard the bones pop. The group scattered. Half sat on the couches, and the other half walked toward the kitchen to either sit down at the island or help cook. Percy walked into the boys' room to get dressed.

The boys', room consisted of hardwood floors and walls, like the living room and kitchen did. There were six bunks around the whole room, with a dresser placed next to each. All the beds' sheets were tossed and wrinkled; a sign that it took probably forever for the rest to get up. Percy got dressed sluggishly and trudged back outside. Last night had really taken the energy out of him. It was worth it though.

The comforting smell of pancakes drifted around the cabin.

Outside of the room, he saw a very common sight.

Travis and Connor Stoll were helping Katie cook in the kitchen—if you could call spraying whipped cream everywhere, helping. Katie was of course yelling at them to 'knock it off' and whacking them with a spoon.

Travis and Connor Stoll were the biggest trouble-makers of the group. Percy had to be careful around them because they could somehow just magically end up his wallet in their hands. Anyone would think the brothers were twins, but that wasn't true. Travis was older by a year and a little taller. They were both tall and skinny, with brown hair that hung in their eyes. They each had idiotic, derisive smiles, upturned eyebrows and eyes filled with mischievous mirth. It was extremely hard to tell who was who today, because they were both wearing the same outfit—baggy, green shirts, untucked over shorts.

Katie Gardner was scowling at them as she flipped the pancakes. The Stolls and she have had a very bumpy relationship ever since the brothers hot glued chocolate bunnies to her bunk. Katie acted like the mother of the group. She was always the one to cook the meals and clean, but she never complained about it. Sometimes she would make the others do chores and get help with cleaning, but she actually likes doing it herself. She had green eyes and auburn hair. Today, she dressed casually in a big white sweatshirt and faded jeans.

Three people were sitting at the island: Leo, Piper and Jason.

Leo Valdez was passed out and drooling on the countertop. His curly black hair stood up, telling Percy that Jason or one of the others literally had to drag him out of bed. When he was awake, he had an impish grin that was always plastered on his face and acted much like the Stolls. He had pointy ears, making him look even more like a Latino elf. He was wearing his usual grease and oil covered cloths that had gotten stained from him blacksmithing. His fingers were noticeably twitching every now and then. Even in his sleep, the kid was still hyperactive.

The girl next to him with uneven, chocolate brown hair that had small braids hanging at the sides was Piper McLean. She had some noticeable Native American features about her and kaleidoscope eyes. Piper was probably one of the nicest people Percy has ever met; it was just in her blood. And she was very pretty. She always tried her best not to bring attention to herself, you could tell by how she dressed. She wore faded jeans like Katie, with a fleece snowboarding jacket and hiking books. Whenever she spoke, it was like you were being hypnotized. At the moment, she was chatting quietly with her boyfriend, Jason.

Jason Grace, the boy from earlier, had blond hair and electric blue eyes. With his scruffy t-shirt and jeans, he looked like a regular, laid-back guy with no problems in the world. But don't let his appearance fool you; he is actually a very great leader who was always on top of things and responsible. That is one of the reasons why Percy picked him as his second-in-command. Well, that and the fact that he was Percy's cousin.

Sitting on one of the couches was Nico di Angelo, Percy's youngest cousin. The fourteen year old, olive-skinned boy was staring off into space. Nico's silky hair was as untidy as always and he was wearing his usual aviator's jacket. Percy wondered if the kid ever took that jacket off. A skull ring was wrapped around his right index finger. His cousin was silent and very anti-social, ever since his sister, Bianca, died, but Percy still loved him as much as a cousin could. Out of all of his cousins, he'd known Nico and Thalia the longest.

Next to Nico sat Hazel Levesque. She was a dark-skinned girl with her curly dark hair pulled up into a messy bun. She was the same age as Nico. Her cloths were old fashioned and her gold eyes made her look a little intimidating. She looked uncomfortable as she fiddled with something in her pocket. Percy, guessing what it was, smiled comfortingly at her, to which she replied with a shy wave. When she looked away, Percy frowned in concern at her. Hazel had such a sad past, Percy just felt guilty even though he had nothing to do with it. Come to think of it, they all had bead pasts…

And sitting next to her was Reyna. Reyna was messing with the tip of her braided dark hair. Her eyebrows were scrunched together like she was deep in though. And she probably was. She was a full warrior inside and out, and was probably thinking about battle plans. Percy sighed. That girl really needed a break; she worked way too hard. She needed a vacation or something. She was strict but careful and cautious at the same time. But over time, Percy noticed that she has a soft spot for children. He always wondered why, but he guessed everyone had their limits.

Leaning on the first couch's arm, sketching on a notepad, was a frizzy red haired, green eyed sixteen year old girl known as Rachel Elizabeth Dare. Her brightly colored cloths were splattered in globs of paint. She was quite the artist, but she never really cared if she missed the canvas. She winked at him teasingly then continued her sketching. Percy smiled; she was one of strangest friends. A bright green bandana was wrapped her forehead in a rebellious manner. Rebellious because her snobby parents just hated bandanas and she wanted to do everything in her power to do what they disliked.

On the second couch sat a sturdy, Chinese looking teen with a baby face. That was Frank Zhang. He yawned greatly in a way that reminded Percy of a teddy bear. Frank was a clumsy, nice and shy guy with the worst luck. He was nice to everyone, except for Leo. For some reason, the two of them just never got along. No matter how hard Frank tried, he just couldn't like Leo. They were pretty different in a lot of ways.

Besides Frank was Will Solace. His blond hair stood up at weird angles as he ran his hand through it. Will was a great friend and an even better healer. He was practically as good as a brain surgeon. And his smile was probably as radiant as the sun itself. Percy never understood how the kid kept his teeth so white, but he never really remembered to ask. He probably will ask later. Will smiled and waved indolently. Everyone seemed to be tired today.

Three people sat on the third couch: Grover, Chris and Clarisse.

Grover Underwood was polishing his reed pipes intently and his tongue poked out between his lips in concentration. Percy smiled. He was one of Percy's very first friends. He had curly brown hair inside a red Rasta cap and beady goat-like eyes. Next to him lay his crutch. Yeah, he was a cripple, but that doesn't mean he was useless. He was actually pretty quick on his feet and very useful in many ways.

Clarisse La Rue and Chris Rodriguez sat side by side, laughing. Those two were the strangest couple to Percy. Chris had his buff arm around Clarisse's broad shoulders. They both had brown hair and eyes, but Clarisse's were so dark, they were almost red. They were alike in so many ways, and different in so little ways. The both of them were aggressive, strong, and competitive. One could agree that Chris was a lot more sensitive and nicer than Clarisse. But that's what made them compatible. Chris was always there to calm her down and keep her at ease. Sure, it didn't work sometimes, but it was still impressive on Chris's part.

Finally, there was Thalia Grace, who was actually sitting on the small coffee table, with her legs crossed. Thalia had spiky black hair and eyes like her brother. A bow was slung over her shoulder and her black, punk-looking clothes really stood out with her sort of pale skin. A splash of freckles crossed her face. There really weren't many words to describe her. But to put it short, she was an adventurous, rebellious and a great cousin. Percy knew her practically all his life. She was older than him by one year. She was eighteen while Percy was seventeen.

So, if the relative's ages went in order it would go like this: Thalia, Percy, Jason, and even though she's not with them anymore, Bianca, Nico and then…

Percy looked around the room, searching for his younger brother, Tyson. Tyson was twelve years old. The kid was the youngest of all of them. He had brown hair and warm calf-brown eyes and was absolutely adorable. He didn't speak much and was blind in one eye, but was awfully cheerful when he actually talked. Percy loved his brother so much and vowed to protect him. What really warmed Percy's heart was the fact that everyone in the group treated him as if he were their little brother, too. It was good to know that Percy wasn't raising the kid alone.

"Where's Tyson?" Percy asked to no one in particular.

"I think he's still in bed, Perce," Nico yawned.

Percy nodded and stepped back inside of the boys' room. He wandered to the bunk he shared with Tyson. Percy probably didn't see the boy because of the fact that Tyson slept on the top bunk, which was kind of his sight range. He blamed Leo for making the bunks so tall. Although, it was great that he didn't have to hit his head on the top bunk anymore.

Percy held onto the bunk's railing and stepped on his mattress, so his head was peeking over barely.

Tyson was sleeping soundly. His hair was tousled and a line of drool was sliding down his cheek. And finally, there was a black Great Dane lying beside him. That was Mrs. O'Leary. And Percy wondered, for what felt like the millionth time, how she got her butt up there in the first place. And how the bed didn't collapse under the weight was a bigger question.

Mrs. O'Leary raised a droopy eye, then she lifted her big head licked Tyson's face all over, covering him in slobber.

Tyson laughed and turned his head toward Percy with only his left eye open. His left eye was the one that still worked. "Tell her to stop."

"Alright, Mrs. O'Leary, I think he's had enough."

The dog looked at him mid-lick then huffed and jumped off the bed to stand by Percy.

Percy laughed. "Why are you still sleeping, kiddo? Don't you want breakfast?"

"I had a nightmare last night…" Tyson said in a small voice.

Uh-oh, Percy thought. He climbed up onto the bunk and sat next to his brother, wrapping his arm around his shoulders comfortingly. "What was it about?'

"It was about mom and dad."

He felt the blood leave his face as memories cam flooding back. He hasn't thought about his parents in a while, so a feeling of queasiness settled in the pit of his stomach. "And…?" he asked timidly.

"It started with Dad on a boat, during a storm. There was lightning and thunder and these huge waves." He paused. "The people on the boat were trying to get all the water off of the deck and fixing the sales. Lightning shot from the sky and hit the boat. Then everything went black." Tyson's eye was misty and he shivered.

Percy hugged his brother reassuringly. "And—and what about Mom?" To be honest, he was scared to know the answer.

"She was locked up in a dungeon. Then someone came to open her cell and lead her upstairs. She was sent to work in the kitchen. And whenever she—," he stopped here and swallowed. "Whenever she did something wrong, she would get hit by this awful lady." The kid looked ready to break into tears.

Percy felt the same, but he forced his expression to stay passive; for the boy's sake. "It was just a dream, Ty."

Tyson was sobbing quietly. No tears actually flowed, but his shoulders shook, as if he was crying. "I miss her."

Percy shut his eyes tight. "Me too."

A sniffle came from the younger boy. "Do you think we'll see her again, Percy?"

He stroked Tyson's hair. "I'm not sure. But, there is always a chance."

Tyson nodded. A silence engulfed them for awhile. Then Percy nudged his brother gently. "Come on, let's get some breakfast."

They both jumped from the bed and exited out of the room, with Mrs. O'Leary. The rest of the morning went on, but Percy didn't. He was still thinking about Tyson. He was concerned for him. Those dreams had been happening more and more often lately. And Percy would be lying if he said he has never had those dreams before.

But right now was not the time to dwell on it. Now, he needed to make a trip to the town and give the town their money.

Somewhere in California, Annabeth Chase unlocked the door to her small apartment. She stepped into her bland home, sighed and set the groceries on the floor. She unwrapped the scarf from her neck and put it on the hat rack that lied to the left of the door. Her gray eyes studied her home as if she's never seen it before. But that was because she wasn't used to the move yet.

She sighed and called, "Dad! I'm home!"

Mr. Chase's voice came from down the hall on the left. "I'm in my study, darling."

Annabeth smiled and walked in the direction of her father's voice. She walked into a small room and ducked. A paper airplane zipped past her head. Laughing came from her father. Like her, her dad had curly, sandy-blond hair, but it was being matted down by a pilot's leather cap and goggles. His intense brown eyes looked foggy in the goggles.

"Sorry dear," he said heartily, "didn't see you there."

Annabeth smiled warmly. "It's okay, dad." She looked at his desk. Papers, books and little figurines were scattered everywhere. "What are you working on?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I've been doing research on the World War. I'm using these figurines to try and replicate it."

She nodded and switched topics before he started rambling. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Oh, you work too hard. Why don't you let me cook it for once?"

"I don't know, Dad," she said uncertainly, rubbing her forearm. "Are you sure?"

A steely glint gleamed in his eyes and he rolled his wheelchair out from under the desk. "Annabeth, I may be a cripple, but I am not useless. I can still do things, you know? You can't always look after me."

Annabeth sighed and sat down in the chair next to the door. She didn't mind that she was sitting on a copy of a Dictionary. "I know, Dad. But I can't just sit there and watch you do all the work. I'm old enough to help."

Mr. Chase rolled up to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know you want to help, but you aren't helping anyone if you work yourself to death."

It was her hard for her to let it go, but she did. She put on a fake smile and said, "So, what's for dinner, Dad?"

He stroked his whiskery chin. "How about lasagna?" he proposed.

She laughed. "I've always loved your cooking."

"So, lasagna it is?"

"Lasagna, it is," she confirmed.

He clapped his hands together. "Alright. Let's go to the kitchen and get it started."
She walked out of the room first and went to the kitchen, with her father right behind her.

They spent the rest of the hour, laughing, talking, and having fun. Mr. Chase tried to impress his daughter by sculpting a face out of the vegetables. And, to Annabeth's surprise, it actually looked like a very good sculpture of Johnny Depp.

"Wow," Annabeth muttered, amazed. "That's a very good Johnny Depp."

"Johnny Depp?" he huffed. "It was supposed to look like that other guy, Orlando Bloom."

Annabeth tilted her head and started laughing. "Oops, my mistake. That is definitely Orlando Bloom."

He nudged her good-naturedly. "You're lying through your teeth."

"Okay, maybe I am. But I really am impressed."

"You are?"

She nodded. "Of course."

Mr. Chase smiled lovingly at his daughter. "You remind me so much of your mother."

She looked down sadly. "You've told me that before."

"I know. But I just can't get over it." He studied her face. "You know, the only thing you got from me was the blond hair. You got your mother's beauty, wisdom, eyes and personality."

Annabeth blushed. "Thanks, Dad. But, I got loads of things from you too, I'm sure."

"Really? Like what?"

"I got your brains and creativeness. And your good looks, and your love for history and architecture."

"Now, you sound like your bragging," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, I think the lasagna's done cooking."

Her father rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. "Good, 'cause I'm starving."

After they were finished eating, they cleaned up, and got ready for bed.

"Don't forget your medication," she reminded her father.

"I won't, honey," he said as he put the last plate in dishwasher.

"Okay, good night, Dad." She backed down the hall and slipped into her room.

Mr. Chase sighed. "Good night, sweetheart." He placed his hands on the cool metal of his wheelchair and frowned as another throb pained in his head. He didn't know what it was because it didn't feel like a headache and it has been there all day. He just shook it off as a small headache and took his medication before heading off to bed.

In her room, Annabeth curled in her comforter and turned her reading light on. She fell asleep with a book on her head, and the light enlightening her room. Her dreams were filled with memories of when her parents and she were on a picnic in a field. She smiled in her sleep.