A year later...

"Okay, kid, now use the pliers and twist the wire - good." Eugene, an older man from Jackson, watched attentively as Maeve worked on their highly sensitive project. She was careful to listen to whatever instructions he had. She didn't want to accidentally kill them both.

She blew a piece of hair out of her face. "Remind me again how you managed to convince Maria to let you do this."

"Increased sightings of infected."

"Right," she huffed sardonically. "I almost forgot about those fucking things."

"Living in Jackson pampered you." The man clapped her on the back, jostling her and nearly causing her to tear the veiny wires from the half-done tripwire. He chuckled and then apologized, moving away from her so she could work.

While it was true that Maeve kept herself inside the town, she still contributed to the community. She was proud to say she was beginning to fall into a routine with the farming rotations...and then Tommy approached out of the blue one day. He asked her to "fix up them fancy explosive gadgets" with the "expert" engineer of Jackson.

That was three days ago. Now, here she was - in some bunker basement thing with protective eyewear and gloves on while she and Eugene tinkered around with mechanical explosive parts and whatnot. It was a lot like a workshop. Metal scraps, drills, welding tools, and the constant smell of metal and oil. It was simple, really. She and the old man would "engineer" trip-wired bombs to place around the deserted areas of Jackson, the towns around, or the least patrolled routes.

She still couldn't believe Maria enlisted her to do this. It was quite surreal, still. And of course, Tommy explained how TJ mentioned she could do the "extreme" stuff such as making flammables and explosives.

It was hilarious when Maria found out about it. She'd gotten into Tommy's face about it, and Joel's. And TJs, because he was the one who suggested it. Like a mom, Maria didn't forget to bare down on him too. Blabbing about her "skills" earned the tall blond a rough jab to the ribs. From then on, he stayed a safe distance from her.

Maeve bit her lip and furrowed her brows. She still found it incredible. Before, she used whatever material she could get her hands on, but here, Eugene had specific items for even more specific items. His workshop, as clustered as it was, was full of stuff she rarely saw. It wasn't very organized, but he had it tidied to his own mindset, she supposed. Her mind ceased to be boggled.

"Hey, Eugene," she sat back from the wiring process, glancing behind her to the older man resting on the tan sofa. "How do you know all this stuff? Like, rewiring electronics and whatnot?"

He chuckled. "Before the outbreak, I was a tech engineer - you know, somewhat of an electrician and a bit of a mechanic. I learned how to improv when I joined the Fireflies. That's how I met Tommy."

"Oh." She refocused on the half-done bomb in her hands. Tech-engineer. Mechanic. How nifty. "So... I guess you worked with motors and such?"

"Sometimes."

"Any other surprise I should know about during our time together?"

"None I care to share."

"Fair enough." She bit her lip and finished the wiring. "All done. Want to check me?"

"Nah," Eugene rejected. "I reckon I've taught you enough to trust you."

"That's a relief." Maeve took off the gloves and protective glasses, setting the sets beside the coil of tripwire. She then stretched her arms above her head. Today had been a long one - well, it seemed like a long one. It'd only been a few hours, but it exhausted her. Cooped up in that bunker, hunched over a workbench while trying to carefully put together dozen tripwire devices. Bombs were easy to craft, but know she wished she didn't know how to make them just so she could be out of that place and hanging out with her friends, or bothering TJ at the stables, or wherever rotations have landed him.

She hoped Eugene didn't see her face redden. It wasn't as if she and TJ were dating, but she liked his presence; it calmed her. She wouldn't deny the tiny visible fact that he had gotten...handsome...r. Handsomer? Yeah. His face had defined over the year and a half, and contributing to the town gave him a bit of muscle, she should say. Whether it be giving a hand to lug heavy things around or along, carry things, hunting, or other trivial labor chores, she noticed how...shaped he'd become. And how his clothes were a bit tighter. It made her feel things, and she wasn't sure if she was guilty about it or not. She blamed it on her hormones; she was also growing into an adult.

Her teeth pinched the inside of her cheek.

No. It wasn't guilt, per say, more like...well, she didn't know. It'd only been a year, give or take a few months since she made Jordan's final resting place that cliff overlooking Jackson. His Firefly pendent was still there, acting as a tombstone. He was gone, but still she felt attached to it. He was her first love, after all. In a way, she felt like she was cheating on his memory even though she allowed herself to move forward.

Pathetic, she thought to herself. Only she would be confused about a meaningless crush - and it was just a crush. Nothing more, nothing less. TJ didn't like her. They weren't like that. Sure, they would have cringe-worthy movie nights and visit each other to talk about their days, but that didn't mean anything. But...why did her heart race so much when he was around? It didn't do that before.

TJ was a great guy, honestly. He was earnest, despite being so stubborn and vulgar-tongued - not that she had any room to talk. He loved dogs and even rummaged an old music store in the abandoned town near Jackson to find tapes for her Walkman, on the condition that he would have access to the music device too without repercussions. He even let her borrow a hoodie from him; he didn't know she wouldn't that back to him and he hadn't asked for it back, so it was a win-win situation.

Ugh. She rubbed her face, attempting to release the heat that accumulated there. Why was love so difficult?

If anything, TJ was too good for her. She saw how his father and Maria looked at each other, clearly so infatuated with each other. They respected one another, trusted one another. She had that with Jordan...and maybe she wanted it with someone else now. There were lots of options to run by...there was Wyatt. He was cute with blond baby curls and bright ocean-blue eyes; he had a dashing smile too. But he wasn't who she wanted. He was nice, perhaps too nice. Nice was good, she respected how kindness and generosity, but Wyatt was twenty-four. She was only seventeen.

There was Jordon, and maybe a guy named Landon, or a dude named Gage. There were too many boys in this town for her to remember their names.

Was she desperate for a boyfriend that badly? Yes. She was affection-starved, but she didn't want an eager boy. The boys in town seemed too eager. She wasn't stupid; they tried, and they failed with her. Pretending to be nice and then the old routine of "I want my dick in you", that was when their efforts went downhill. It was hilarious to an extent.

Jasmine thought it was funny too. Maeve recalled a moment where they were in her designated house-garage - she'd just told her friend about the previous encounter, and she nearly pissed her jeans laughing her ass off.

"You're distracted today, kid." Eugene's voice brought her back into reality.

"Huh?" She ducked her head, embarrassed.

The older man barked out a laugh, clearly amused. "Kid, you're out of it. Why don't you go home?"

"You want me to go?" She twisted in her seat to look at him. "But I've still got -"

"Just go, kid," he cut her off with a half grin. "You've been here all day. If Tommy gives ya shit, tell him to come to me."

The auburn-haired girl smiled at his playful tone. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He assured her and wagged his hand as if to shoo her away. "I want to mellow out anyway."

She chuckled. Weed, he meant. He wanted to smoke his weed. The weed he somehow kept hidden from Maria and handed to all the curious young adults, ahem, adults ripe enough and free of their teenage years. Maria didn't have a problem with the smoking, she didn't want it to get out of control, or given to the teenagers, even if they were eighteen or nineteen. She didn't shy away from being verbal about her dismay of maurajna, but she couldn't figure out where or how Eugene managed to find his stashes, so she couldn't bust him.

Finally, she packed her things and left the bunker to head back into town. By the time she got back, the sun was setting in the late afternoon sky. Its Forget-Me-Not blue color began to flame into brilliant orange and reds. Rotations were still being made, so the streets of Jackson were bustling still. The children, surprisingly children, ran amuck with their seemingly endless energies and they played with a few dogs that barked happily during their playtime.

"Whoa!" Maeve gasped out, a little with braids nearly bulldozed her over, roughly bumping into her legs. Quickly, she steadied herself and the girl. "Careful now."

"Sorry!" The young girl grinned sheepishly. Maeve couldn't help but notice one of her front teeth missing. And then the girl raced off with her friends and the dogs, giggling with hyper-ness.

Children playing without much as a care in the world was something still new to her. She hadn't seen so many young kids out and about, the adults keeping an eye out, but not at all too worried about them - that was still so new. It wasn't like she hadn't seen kids before, but more than a few children - that was a first. Especially not so many smiling children.

She had this warm feeling blossom inside her chest, swelling with a joy unknown to her, and she wondered who she would've been if she been born into a world with no infected or raiders. It made a bitter envy bubble in her. Of all the older people here, that is. She envied their knowledge of a world void of infected. She shook it off and continued down the street.

"Maeve!"

The sound of her name had her looking everywhere. She was sure she looked silly rotating like a rotisserie chicken in the middle of the road. But then she saw her vitiligo conditioned friend, who she should mention came bumbling toward her while covered in, Maeve hoped it was just dirt and not shit. The more their proximity closed, the more Maeve wondered if it was shit her friend had stained on her tee. Smelled like it.

She grimaced not-so-subtly. "Where the hell did you come from?"

"Would you believe me if I said I had a brawl with a mutated onion?"

"I would not."

"Damn," Jasmine snapped her fingers. "Then, I got bullied by one of the horses during my rotation at the stables."

She would have laughed, but the stench of the manure made her not want to. "Horses are great, but they can be real assholes sometimes."

"They're intelligent creatures who sometimes find human pain and humiliation amusing." Jasmine coughed awkwardly. "Thankfully, Stevie didn't complain when I had to leave early to change my clothes."

Stevie. Maeve fortunately didn't have the pleasure to personally meet her yet. Somehow during the whole year that she lived in Jackson, she'd managed to avoid her. Maeve honestly didn't know what Stevie looked like. But Maeve wasn't keen on meeting new people yet.

"You'll meet her if you add stables to your rotations, or if you do patrols. Anyway, come with me?'

Maeve looked at her oddly. "Where...?"

"My house? I wanna give you something."

"Should I be worried?" She began again slowly, which caused Jasmine to snort.

"Relax, girl, Kat's the one who's into pussy." They laughed, though Maeve felt a bit better about that. And then they moved on. She kept her distance from Jasmine's manure-covered self as they strode down the sidewalks of Jackson.