Last chap.! Squee!

Ch. 20

At dawn the next day, I found that I had returned to what remained of the Rebel camp. There wasn't much; the tents were abandoned, belongings strewn around on the concrete, remains of abandoned campfires, the occasional corpse stretched out in a shadowy corner. I don't really know why I had come back. After the survivors of the battle had escaped Camp Half-Blood, they had scattered. There wasn't enough of us left to win a fight against a class of second-graders, let alone continue to effectively harass the demigods.

Damian had vanished into the shadows several hours earlier, and I didn't really expect to see him again any time soon. There were a few monsters that had thought along the same lines as me and had returned to the abandoned camp, and they snuffled through the remains like the homeless people they had suddenly become. I almost felt sorry for them, until I remembered that I was in the same boat—homeless and worthless, living a pointless existence on the city streets.

Near the center of the camp, I noticed a small group of familiar figures gathered around a car battery. "Predak?"

Predak the telekhine looks up in surprise, a grin forming on his features as he recognizes me. "Christine! What are you doing back here?"

"Christeeeeene!" Ziral squeals, waddling full-speed over to me and head-ramming my knees in affection.

I wince and pat the pup on the head, exchanging a friendly nod with Silvamord. "I don't know. . . just scavenging, I suppose."

Predak gives me a knowing look. "Back to the streets, eh?" he asks with a wry half smile, flashing his sharp little telekhine teeth. "I guess that's what happens when you're a monster."

"I guess," I agree, shrugging. "You got any plans?"

Predak shakes his head. "Nah. I'm gonna travel with Silvamord and the pups for a while though I think. I lost my whole crew last night, so. . ." he trails off, looking defeated. "Gotta start over now, you know?"

"Yeah," I say quietly. "That makes two of us. Have you seen anyone else?"

"I saw Io," Silvamord pipes up. "She's heading north for a while, gonna get out of New York, she told me. She looked awful though," the telekhine says, sounding slightly worried. "She was so skinny, and I think she lost a lot of blood in the battle. . . it wouldn't surprise me if she didn't live long enough to make it past the Bronx."

"And Katrina's dead," Predak adds. "Your empousa friend Phamilia told me that. Mokkan lived, and Fiona did too. . . I don't know about anyone else though. I think Flint lived, but I'm not too sure about that. All his big mutants are dead, I know that." He looks at me. "Hear anything about Hawkeye?"

Pain sears through my chest. "No. I was hoping you had."

Predak shakes his head. "Nope. I don't think anybody knows for sure. He could have been killed, but he could have pulled a trick and vanished, too. He's done that a couple of times."

"Missing in action," Silvamord says wisely. "Well, kind of. Technically we all saw him disappear, but—you get it."

It hurts to hear those words about Hawkeye. I never thought that his disappearance would affect me so much. There isn't much in my life that I would regret losing, but I couldn't have ever imagined that Hawkeye would be among that list. It's like losing Charlie X, the mutant runner, all over again. Except worse.

"Yeah, we get it," I say. I can tell that Predak feels the same way I do. He was close to Hawkeye, too.

We stand in companionable silence for several minutes, watching the sun come up over the tops of the buildings. Finally, Ziral bounces up to me. "Where are you going, Christine?" he asks.

I bite my lip. "I don't know, baby. This war ended really fast, and I haven't really had time to think about it. But I hear Kansas is nice this time of year."

Silvamord gives a halfhearted laugh. "You're serious?"

I grin. "Maybe. I don't have any reason not to go—other than that it might be kind of hard to blend in with the wheat fields. I don't really know. I have no reason to stay here, after all."

There is a subtle beating of wings behind me. "Kansas? What do you see in Kansas?"

I don't bother to turn around. "Hey, Kodiak."

The mutant boy comes up beside me, folding his black bat wings against his back. He has a half healed gash across his left shoulder, a black eye, and walks with a limp. He raises an eyebrow. "Kansas?" he asks again.

I put my hands on my hips. "Why not? Do you have a problem with Kansas?" I ask with a touch of my former cockiness.

"Not at all," he says, one corner of his mouth quirking in a slight smile. I notice that one of his front teeth are missing. "It's just a little. . . country, I guess, for a city girl like you."

"Oh thanks," I say, punching him playfully on the shoulder and making him cringe. "So, where are you going now?"

"I'm sticking around here," he says, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. "Couldn't leave New York City if you paid me. It's a little risky maybe, since Jackson is still prowling around here, but oh well. It's home."

"So how is Mr. Indestructible?" Predak asks. "Still kicking?"

"He didn't take Di Angelo's death very well," Kodiak says with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Not well at all, from what I've heard. He still hadn't recovered from losing his girlfriend, and Di Angelo was just too much. He's depressed, I think."

Silvamord makes a noise in the back of her throat. "Serves him right," she says. "And Artemis?"

"Back on Olympus, where she belongs," Kodiak says. "Thalia Grace and the Hunters stayed at Camp Half-Blood to help them rebuild, though. Grover Underwood the satyr is already scrounging around for more half bloods to bring in. Clarisse LaRue has been laid out senseless since last night. Lost a battle with our sphinx, I think," he adds, sounding a little bit proud.

"And how did you figure all this out?" I ask the mutant.

He gives Predak a sideways look. "I'm good at eavesdropping on powerful people," he says, and Silvamord and the pups laugh.

I groan. "Great, now there's two of you," I snarl. "I'm leaving while I can."

Kodiak grins and returns my sock on the shoulder. "Well then, good luck, Christine. Don't cause too much trouble in Kansas."

"Yeah," Predak agrees. "And if you're ever in a bind, give us a holler, will you? I like the kind of trouble that you get into."

I can't resist a smile. "If you insist, man. And no terrorist attack scares remember—I'll know who's behind it all if I hear of somebody getting caught trying to bomb the Statue of Liberty or something like that."

Ziral and the pups groan in disappointment and I turn away, trying not to laugh.

"Hey Christine!" Silvamord calls out to me as I walk away. "I love your hair!"

I flip her the bird over my shoulder as they crack up, and before long the remains of the Rebel camp lies several blocks behind me. The sound of their laughter disappears along with it.

I turn down into an alleyway, the dark, filthy feeling that accompanies it all to familiar to me. However, before I can go far, the sound of footsteps echoes from behind me, and I turn to see a tall, blond boy with an eye patch following me.

"Well, well," I say, turning to face Damian, "look at what the wind blew in. I thought you vanished back into the city sometime last night."

He shrugs, stopping several feet in front of me. "I did," he says. "But I figured I had better come back and see what was left of the camp. I hear you're going to Kansas."

I snort. "I'm not too sure about that, but the people in Kansas better hope that I change my mind."

A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "I think the people everywhere you go better worry about that."

"Heaven won't take me, and Hades is afraid I'll take over, so yeah, I figure you're right. And where do you plan on going?"

His fingers pluck restlessly at the string of his bow. "I don't really know yet, to tell you the truth. New York might be home, but it's pretty dangerous around here right now. There's still demigods crawling around, and mortal media to watch out for too. I might head north—see if I can find Io. I saw her not long after Silvamord did; she wasn't looking good."

I nod. "Sensible enough. Well, if you do find her, tell her I said hello."

"I will," he says. "If I find her alive, anyway."

There are several seconds of uncomfortable silence between us, before I ask him, "So, what's on your mind?"

He looks at me in surprise. "What?"

I roll my eyes. "Damian Vasquez, I've known you way to long for you to pull that one on me. I didn't serve under Kronos with you for almost five years for nothing, you know."

"Funny how that works, isn't it?" he asks, smiling slightly. "I wouldn't understand the way you work if someone wrote it out for me on paper, and you can read my mind." And before I can remind him that's how everybody feels around me, he leans down and plants his mouth over mine.

Now, I've done a lot of things in my short life. I've jumped out of an airplane, without a parachute. I've spied on important political figures. I've caused a bomb scare at a string quartet concert. Predak and I have robbed a bank with a water gun and a ball point pen. But I've never been kissed.

In fact, being kissed had never been very high on my list of things to do; it was somewhere way down there near the bottom with "practice cannibalism" and "bake a cake." So I was rather surprised when I didn't really resist.

I was pretty impressed with Damian, too. I mean, it takes a lot of guts to kiss somebody with fangs, especially if that somebody isn't exactly famous for her dental hygiene (hey, give me a break—you never saw Kronos hunched over a sink brushing his teeth, did you?), and prone to throwing sucker-punches when surprised.

After several long seconds of this, Damian draws back and studies my face. I grin flickers briefly across his features when he realizes that he has rendered me quite speechless. "See you around, Christine Savage."

I stare at the back of his head until he disappears around the corner and is lost from sight. Then I bare me teeth and kick out at a nearby trash can, toppling it over. "I should have slugged him."

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I don't know where I'm going now. Probably not Kansas, I'll tell you that much, but other than that, I'm free. But no matter where I go, you know that I'll always be back, when the first whispers of a war against the gods reach my ears. As you may understand, I am a supporter of any excuse to get revenge on the gods of Olympus, for doing this to me.

And if nobody else starts a war anytime soon, I might just take it into my own hands and start one myself. I'm good at stuff like that.

But I'll be back.

After all, I am Christine Savage.

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Oh, come on, you didn't think I'd give Christine a happy ending, did you? :) It could have been worse, you know.

So anyway, I would like to thank, in no particular order:

roses aren't red, Ybird, inkbender, athenashadow, ThE AnCiEnT DeRuViSh, zodiac dragonHatori, SuzieQluvzU, Nightmare Before Halloween, jennedy, Lonely Traveler, xXuSaGiKiXx, caitlumms, Nana Tuff101, Adelina's Electric, Eclipse of Nyx, kkpara, Twilight Witch 1997, and socratesjunior. Oh, and Lidia 101101 for flaming me. At least once.

Very sorry if I spelled any of you guys' names wrong—some of them are pretty complicated. ;)

Now that this fiction is over, I would really appreciate it if you would tell me what you thought of it—chew me out for killing Annabeth and Nico, tell my your favorite part of the story, your favorite character, your least favorite character (hopefully Christine :D), tell me what you though of the ending, anything! I want to know how well you liked it, or how much you hated it, or whatever. Reviews are appreciated, critique is stewed over, and flames are tolerated!

So now that this fic is over, I don't really plan on returning to writing Percy Jackson fanfiction any time soon—I want to branch out a bit. I'm going to head over to the Maximum Ride fandom for a little while and plague that area with my OC villains, and then I might wreak havoc on the Hunger Games a little bit more, and I will definitely be teasing the Twilight fans with some truly offensive and humiliating parodies that I will have a blast writing. (Sorry to all you Twilight lovers out there—Bella Swan is the best victim EVER of hilariously badly written, violent deaths).

So anyway, watch for me elsewhere, and I will eventually return to writing Percy Jackson fics. In the meantime, thanks a lot to all of my reviewers!