Hello, lovelies! I'm back and really excited to share another chapter with you! A bit of a warning beforehand: there is a bit of drug use in it, but definitely nothing sinister. It's a pretty fluffy chapter for the most part, and one of my favorites so far. The chapter title is "Pools" by Glass Animals, a super great song (but then all of their songs are great). Anyway, until the next chapter, many, many thanks for your reviews and support. Let me know what you think!

26. Pools

Several hours passed before Mason felt close to normal again. Everyone was quiet, subdued after leaving the church, but she felt better sitting next to Eugene. She was certain she would have lost it without the comfort of his presence.

Rosita, sitting one seat behind Abraham's, played idly with his ginger hair. "It's getting a little messy for you," she said, the first words anyone had spoken in a while.

"Getting ready for retirement," he replied. "Relaxing the grooming standards. Thinking about becoming a plumber. A sheepherder or something."

Mason snorted a little. Eugene looked over and smiled like she'd done something more fantastic than that.

"You ain't herding sheep now, Abraham, eyes on the prize," Rosita said.

"Damn right. That's my girl." He chuckled. "Maybe I'll let you shave me down all over. Dolphin-smooth."

"Oh, that's a sexy image," Mason said.

Rosita laughed. "I'll cut it for you tonight."

Tara grinned at Eugene. "Hey, maybe Rosita can give you a trim while she's at it. Party's getting a little long in the back."

Both Mason and Eugene looked at her as though she'd suggested murdering kittens.

"Nobody's touching his glorious locks," Mason said.

"Thank you, partner in crime."

"What, is it your source of power or something?" Tara teased.

"I ain't slayin' a lion anytime soon," Eugene said. "I wouldn't be placing any wagers on seeing me dispatch a thousand Philistines with the jawbone of an ass."

"You'll just settle for saving the world, right?"

"Yeah."

Mason blinked at the change in his tone, and she wasn't the only one who noticed. The smile disappeared from Tara's face.

"What's up?" she asked. "Last night?"

"Yes. That and tomorrow. And I'm thinking about that preacher. What he did."

Discreetly, Mason touched her pinky finger to Eugene's. One side of his mouth twitched up in wordless gratitude.

Maggie turned in her seat to face them. "How long will it be?" she asked. "After you get on that terminal and do what you have to do?"

"Depends on a number of factors including density of the infected around target sites worldwide."

"Wait, target sites?" Glenn said. "Are you talking about missiles?"

Eugene's expression didn't change, but Mason sensed his unease.

"That's classified," he said.

"C'mon, man. I thought we were over that."

"What if we all live?"

"The secrets will matter then?"

"They might. Anyway, the speed with which things normalize also depends on factors such as worldwide weather patterns, which were modeled without the assumption that cars, planes, boats and trains wouldn't be pouring hydrocarbons into the atmosphere this long. Changes the game quite a bit when it comes to air-transmissible pathogens."

Glenn stared at him for a moment with the same mystified expression most wore when they talked to Eugene. Then he said, "Why the hair?"

"Because I like it. And no one is takin' scissor no clipper to it, you hear me, Miss Espinoza?"

"Loud and clear."

"Ya'll can laugh all you want," Eugene continued. "The smartest man I ever met happened to love my hair. My old boss, T. Brooks Ellis, the director of the Human Genome Project. He said my hair made me look like, and I quote, 'a fun guy'. Which I am."

Mason cackled and Eugene turned to glare at her, but it was marred by the smile he fought to suppress.

"I don't know what you're laughing about. I'll have you know that I was once referred to as a party animal by my peers. It may not look like it upon first glance, but I assure you I can merrymake with the best of them."

"You're telling me you used to go to keggers and shit? Drink beer from funnels and wake up in some stranger's bathtub?"

"Stop spying on me."

A deafening bang interrupted them. The bus jolted and began to careen wildly, brakes screeching. There was barely any time to react, but Mason managed to wrap herself protectively over Eugene before the bus ramped into an SUV and flipped over.

Her head slammed against the window and she blacked out.

~m~

Mason…

Beth?

I love you. Wake up…

I love you, too.

Mason…

"Mason!"

Her eyes flickered open to a haze of smoke. Eugene crouched over her, his panic turning to relief as his voice finally roused her.

"Eugene…" she croaked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but you hit your head pretty hard."

It was only then that she became aware of an insistent throbbing in her left temple. Dazed, she lifted her hand to her head. Her fingers came away glossed with blood.

"Are the others okay?"

"Scrapes and bruises. But we really need to get out of here," he said, nodding to the sinister glow coming from the front of the bus.

He helped her to her feet, steadying her while she got her bearings; the bus lay on its side, and combined with her aching brain it made for quite a dizzying experience. The others hovered at the back of the bus, staring at the walkers gathering at the doors.

"Alright," Glenn said, raising his voice above the snarling. "Abraham and I will go first, knock them back, clear the way for the rest of you to get out, and then we all fight them off together. Okay?"

Everyone nodded. Mason dug her fire poker from the debris and slipped her pack over Eugene's shoulder.

"You and me'll go last. I'll cover you, but you need to be ready, just in case."

Shakily, he nodded. Then, with a deep breath, he drew the knife she'd given him from his belt.

Abraham kicked the doors opened and knocked through the wall of walkers. The others hopped out one by one until just Mason and Eugene remained.

"You ready?" she said.

At first he didn't respond, staring at the melee outside. Mason touched his hand.

"Hey. It's okay. You can do this."

"Okay."

She led him out of the bus, and as soon as the stench of walkers hit her nose she reverted immediately to fight mode. She took down two of them easily enough, but as she moved toward the third her head spun. She stumbled, and her fire poker ran through the walker's neck instead of its head.

"Shit."

It slid toward her, spouting blood from its gnashing teeth. She tried to pull away, but its slimy fingers shackled her wrist. Its free hand swiped at her face, its fetid breath choked her.

Eugene appeared out of nowhere, driving his knife through the walker's temple. It slumped heavily, nearly carrying her off her feet, but Eugene caught her before she could fall.

"Thanks," she panted.

"Look at me," he said, unexpectedly assertive. Surprised, she obeyed and he reached out to hold her head in his hands. His grip was firm but gentle, and she was suddenly overcome with a sudden urge to squirm.

"What, um, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Checking to see if you have a concussion. Are you nauseous? Ears ringing?"

"Not really. My head hurts but, like, it's bleeding, so…"

Briefly, Eugene examined her eyes and for some reason, with him so close, the look warmed her cheeks. His eyes were blue, she realized. Why had she not noticed that before?

"Your pupils are dilated. I am ninety-eight percent certain you have a concussion."

"Well, that sucks."

"Eugene!"

Eugene and Mason jumped apart, startled by Abraham's shout.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Just cuts and dings is all. But Mason has a head wound and a possible concussion."

"First aid kit's in the bus," Maggie said. "I'll see what we have."

As though her words were a signal, the orange smolder at the front of the bus burst into full-fledged flames. Mason let out a breathy laugh.

"Here."

Eugene tore a strip from the bottom of his shirt and began wrapping it around her head.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on it, both for infection and worsening concussive symptoms," he murmured as he worked. Mason nodded mutely.

Once her wound was patched, Abraham hefted his gun over his shoulder and said, "We're not staying here any longer. We're rolling on. Find another vehicle down the road. The mission hasn't changed."

"Devil's advocate, Abraham, but we smashed to a stop hard. Mason's hurt, you're hurt. The church is just a few miles back."

"No," Abraham growled. "We don't stop. We don't go back. We're at war, and retreat means we lose. The road fights back, the plan gets jacked, you all know that. Now we will get through this because we have to, but we do not go back."

"Hey, hey," Glenn said. "You okay?"

"I am fit as a damn fiddle."

Glenn frowned cautiously at Abraham's combative tone. "We are going with you. You are calling this thing. I just need to know you're good."

"This is how things stop," Abraham explained. "I can't afford that right now, the world can't afford it. Listen, I took a pretty hard shot to the sack with that crash. I am stressed and depressed to see that ride die, but if you say we're rolling on, I'm good."

"We're rolling on."

So they gathered what little had survived the crash, bolstering each other's spirits by promising that they would replenish supplies on the way. Abraham took the lead, keeping to the side of the road. After a while, Mason nudged him.

"Sorry about your sack, man."

Like she'd hoped, Abraham laughed. "Sorry about your head."

"Eh, it was fucked anyway."

~m~

They came across a small town as night fell and decided on a small library as their camp. They spent a few hours rearranging the shelves into "rooms", covering the windows with cardboard, stuffing trashcans with kindling for fires, and salvaging water from the toilet tanks.

Maggie and Rosita took the string out of book bindings to use as makeshift stitches. Maggie stitched Mason up while Rosita tended to a cut on Abraham's hand.

"Thanks, sis," she said when the last stitch was tied off.

Maggie smiled and touched Mason's cheek, and the resemblance to Beth made her want to cry.

"Go get some rest."

Eugene waited for her in one of the makeshift rooms. It was the furthest from the others, small and cozy with a series of shelf benches sitting below a row of windows. Mason nodded in approval.

"Cute."

"Home sweet home," Eugene agreed.

"You and I should make a quick sweep. See if there's anything useful we want to grab. Meet you back here in ten?"

"Coolioz."

Mason started out with every intention of searching for essentials, but in no time at all she was distracted by the books. It had been so long since she'd read anything aside from the classics Hershel had kept at the prison. Unable to help herself, she began perusing them.

The bag fell as she was pushing a few thrillers out of the way. Curious, she picked it up, and when she saw what was inside an enormous grin split her face. She hurried back to her and Eugene's den.

He was sitting on one of the benches, staring pensively at the floor. Sitting next to him, a pile of his own books. Nerd.

"Okay, so I found something really fucking great, are you ready?"

"Wait," Eugene said. "Me first."

Mason blinked curiously as he reached behind him and held something out to her. She felt an unexpected wave of emotion when she saw that they were headphones.

"Yours broke in the crash, right?" he said.

"Right," she rasped. "Thank you."

Don't cry you pansy, what the fuck?

Shaking her head roughly, she took the headphones and slipped them around her neck. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Of course. What is it that you found? You came in smiling wider than the moon."

She set her books down next to his and pulled the baggie from her pocket. She dangled it in front of him with a grin.

"Marijuana?"

"Hell yeah. Somebody stashed it in the mystery section."

"Are you…are you going to smoke it?"

"Well, I'm not gonna cook it in a soup and call it oregano."

"Mason, I do not know if that's-"

"What? I thought you were a party animal," she teased.

Eugene glared at her. "I have nothing against marijuana, but with your probable concussion you should probably stay awake for a few hours to be safe. That stuff will put you out like a light, if the smell is anything to go by."

"So you have smoked."

"A few times."

"So not enough to know that this isn't indica it's sativa and will likely make me feel more energized?"

He blinked. "How can you tell?"

"I was a middleman for a while. Just casual shit, you know. See how the buds are kind of feathery? Indica is a lot bushier."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, oh my god. Besides, isn't that whole don't-sleep-after-concussions thing a myth?"

"With mild cases. But we have no way of knowing the severity of yours and I will not risk your health for a little ganja."

Mason rolled her eyes. "Eugene, it'll probably help. Now I'm gonna roll one. Do you want some?"

He was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Yes. But if it makes you sleepy, we quit immediately."

"Yes, Mom."

In record time, Mason rolled a joint with the cigarette paper in the baggie, leaned over their trashcan fire to light it, and took a deep hit. She held it in her throat for a moment before the burn got to her and she coughed it out.

"Jesus," she choked. "It's been a while."

Silently, Eugene held his hand out for the joint. He coughed almost immediately, and Mason patted his back with a giggle.

"Been a while for you, too, huh?"

"Fuck, I have missed that."

~m~

"Dude, you know what I could go for right now?"

"Frankenberries."

"Get the fuck out of my mind."

~m~

"I can blow smoke rings, watch!"

"I can blow…bubbles."

~m~

"Oh my god, man. I feel like I could…like I could, like. Ascend into Olympus and challenge Zeus to a gun fight. Or, no, like…a lightning fight? He was the lightning guy, right? Shut up, Eugene, stop laughing."

"You're…you're fucking stoned…"

"I'm stoned? Eugene, you're, like, legit giggling. Oh my god, it's so cute."

~m~

"You know, in high school I played football for, like, a year."

"Really?"

"Yeah, until the coach forced me off the team. Apparently the other players were uncomfortable with a dyke on the team."

"Ah, so you were dating a girl that year."

"Yep."

"That's bullshit. My dad forced me into pee wee football, but I got kicked off for a similar unfounded prejudice."

"They thought you were a dyke?"

"Yes."

~m~

"Hey, as a kid, did you ever eat those…like those candy necklaces? Remember those?"

"Indeed, I do, sister."

"So did you ever eat 'em? Cuz I love those things."

"Sometimes. But sometimes I wasn't in the mood for candy so I'd just eat a necklace."

"You're such a weirdo. I love it."

~m~

"You know what? My middle name is Elliot."

"So?"

"So my full name is Eugene Elliot Porter. My initials spell out EEP… Stop laughing, Mason."

~m~

"I bet I can pin you in five seconds."

"Mason, I'm twice your size."

"So what? Square up, bro."

"Alright, but- ow, Jesus!"

"Ha! I told you!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Hey! Eugene, quit it, that's- tickling is cheating!"

"You didn't rule it out."

"F-fuck you, you- shit, no, no, please!"

"Oh, the ribs, huh?"

"I hate you!"

"Do you forfeit?"

"Urrrg- Y-yes, okay! Goddammit!"

"Huh. Look at that. Five seconds."

"Go chew on a necklace."

~m~

"Dude, look at the fucking sky. I want to go out there. I want to go stargazing."

Mason crouched on a bench, staring eagerly out the window. Eugene sat next to her and took a contemplative hit from their second joint.

"I used to go stargazing all the time. I'd drive out to empty fields with my telescope and spend hours out there."

"Well, I'm going."

"Wait. Right now?"

"Yeah. I won't be gone long. You stay here and make sure the others don't notice I'm gone."

Eugene grabbed her arm. "I cannot in good conscience let you go out there by yourself."

"Eugene, I used to be out there all the time by myself."

"While you were stoned to the bone?"

Mason laughed. "No, but I spent a good amount of time drunk. C'mon, I'll be fine. Just a five minute adventure, I promise."

"No," he said firmly. "I…I'm coming with you."

"Eugene, no-"

"I'm serious," he said and then held out his pinky finger, which was so very unserious that both of them almost cracked up.

Mason watched him for a moment, warring with her common sense. Going out right now just the two of them was so incredibly stupid it didn't even need stating. But there was something reckless in her that needed to be out there, under the wild night, and she could see it in Eugene's eyes, too. She didn't think she'd ever seen him reckless.

"Okay," she finally said. "But we're doing this thing the smart way. The idiotic smart way."

A few minutes later, they were sneaking out of the exit in the back of the library, armed with all the disposable paraphernalia they could carry. The walkers meandering on the other side of the street hadn't seen them yet, so they were able to scurry past without incident.

Just as they were approaching the highway, however, a band of walkers appeared from around the corner of the building. Mason backed up quickly, shoving Eugene and herself behind a car. The walkers didn't notice them but were headed right in their direction.

With a conspiratorial nod, Mason and Eugene tossed a couple of their random items down an alleyway. The walkers stopped, alerted to the noise, and changed direction. Once the path was clear, they hurried away.

The highway was clear and quiet. They walked a little while before sprawling out on the pavement. The stars spilled out above them like a million fireflies.

"I never get used to how many we can see without light pollution," Eugene murmured.

"It's this," Mason said. "The good out of the bad. The game Bob used to play with Sasha."

Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away. Eugene took her hand and began reciting all of the constellations he knew to distract her from the pain. After a while, they began making up their own. It was the most peaceful she'd felt in a long time.

When the walkers came, Mason pulled Eugene to his feet and darted into the woods, tossing items as they went. They lost the ones following them but nearly ran into a second group wandering through the trees. With a stifled squeal, Mason backtracked, pulling Eugene behind her until they came to a hollow tree. She pushed him inside first, then squeezed in after.

There was barely enough room for both of them, and none at all for space between them. The roof was low enough that Eugene had to duck. They stood absolutely still, mashed together as the walkers shambled past.

Mason watched them for a bit, breathless with exhilaration, when she spotted one with an odd marking. At first she thought it was a tattoo, albeit a stupidly placed one, but as it came closer she saw that it had been carved into the walker's forehead. The bleeding W glistened, sending a trickle of unease down her spine.

She turned to point it out to Eugene, but was startled by how close they really were. His nose was a brush away from hers, his breath warm on her face. She blinked, so flustered by the proximity that she let out a nervous giggle.

A walker nearby paused at the noise, but after a tense moment it moved on. Mason pressed her forehead briefly to Eugene's chest, sagging with relief.

"C'mon," she whispered. "Before our luck runs out."

~m~

"Man, can you imagine the look on Abraham's face if he ever found out?"

"I really, truly, sincerely do not want to."

Eugene was sitting with his back against the benches and Mason was lying on the floor with her head propped up on his leg. Her iPod played through her new headphones, low and comforting.

"Yeah, okay, but did you see that fire truck outside?" she said. "That would be a perfect replacement for our late truck."

Eugene sighed. "Yes. I suppose we'll have to inform Abraham about it tomorrow."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound enthused."

"Well because, in all honesty, I would much rather our nights continue in this manner."

"Yeah, but after you fix things, they can."

"Yeah."

There was so much desolation in his voice that it stung her. She didn't know what to say or how to make it better.

After a while, the song changed and before she could convince herself not to she started to sing.

Eugene looked sharply at her but she ignored him. She knew if she saw him watching her, the nerves would stifle her voice.

Only when the song was over did she dare look at him. His eyes were wide, a soft smile on his face.

"I didn't know you sang."

"Uh, yep. Not usually for other people though."

"I'm honored."

Mason laughed to cover her shyness. "Well, you're my bestie, so…"

"Will you sing it again?"

"Really?"

"It's been a while since I heard someone sing, leastways not someone who does it so well."

So she sang it again, and again, until Eugene knew enough to join in on the chorus. He was wildly out of tune but Mason loved the sound of his voice anyway.

Eventually, they both agreed that they should probably get some sleep.

"So you don't think I'll slip into a coma?" Mason teased.

"At this point I think you are right as rain."

"Thanks, Dr. Porter."

~m~

They awoke the next morning tired but at ease. Exchanging a smirk, they slipped the rest of the weed into Mason's pack before joining the others.

The rest of the group looked well-rested, but Mason couldn't find it in herself to envy them. From the look on his face, Eugene felt the same.

Apparently Abraham and Rosita had been arguing about whether or not to stay at the library for one more night. Mason didn't have to ask to know what Abraham thought of that.

"This town isn't in bad shape," Maggie said. "This store wasn't even touched. We could make a good base here, spend one last day doing a sweep for supplies."

Rosita sighed. "No. We'll sweep as we go. We've done it since Houston, we're not stopping now." It was clear she was only saying this because she knew Abraham wouldn't budge.

After a moment, he nodded. "You heard the lady. We're taking it north."

"We tapped out the toilet," Tara said. "Broad River is five miles west. At the very least we stock up there before we find wheels."

"We won't have to," Mason interjected.

"You secretly a camel or something?"

"No. But there is a perfectly good vehicle outside that just happens to have five hundred gallons of water on it," she said, glancing conspiratorially at Eugene.

Abraham praised her jovially for the find, clapping her on the back hard enough to make her stumble. Everyone gathered their stuff and headed outside to examine it.

When Abraham tried to start it, however, the engine sputtered and refused to turn over.

"Come on," he growled, hopping out to glare at the truck. "Just one damn time."

Glenn sighed. "We'll find another ride."

"If there was a ride worth shit in this town we would've seen it. This thing's done some crowd-clearing. Right up into the intake."

That was an understatement. The whole thing was covered in a layer of red much less appealing than its usual hue.

"There is no damn corner on this damn Earth that hasn't been dicked hard beyond all damn recognition," he continued and began tearing walker flesh from the mesh duct on the side.

"Uh, Abraham," Rosita said. "That feeds the radiator. The intake for the engine is actually on the roof."

Mason raised an eyebrow, impressed, but before anyone could respond, a tire rolled out of the warehouse next to them.

"Shit."

The walkers came flooding through the open door, at least a dozen or more. Abraham and Mason leapt forward first, taking out the first wave with synchronized violence. They probably could've taken most of them themselves, until Glenn shouted that there were more coming from the back.

"Just one damn time!" Abraham fumed, cleaving a walker's head in half with the butt of his gun.

Mason found herself surrounded in the flood, swinging desperately to break free. But the walkers kept coming.

Suddenly, with a deafening hiss, a stream of water cut through the pack on her left.

"Mason, go!"

Bewildered, she stumbled away to see Eugene manning the water hose on top of the truck.

She laughed. "Fuck yeah, Eugene!"

When the walkers were subdued, many of them missing limbs and heads, everyone cheered.

"I've been to eight county fairs and one goat rodeo," Abraham said. "I never seen anything like that."

With a cocky smirk, Eugene descended and Abraham took his place to clear the engine intake.

Mason ruffled Eugene's hair. "Fabulous thinking, partner!"

"Hey, don't muss the mane."

The truck started on the first try once the intake was clear, and in no time they were on the road again.

~m~

Sometime around noon, the truck stalled. Everyone hovered around it while Abraham attempted to fix it.

Mason and Eugene sat next to each other, each reading one of the books they'd taken from the library. When the breeze picked up they both looked up at the same time, faces scrunched in disgust.

"What the fuck is that?"

"I am no expert, but it smells like if Cthulhu could shit."

Abraham emerged from the truck. "Whatever's making that stench, it ain't nothing nice. But we're not stopping."

"Um…we're stopped," Tara said.

But he ignored her, and she and Mason exchanged an exasperated glance.

The group followed Abraham up the road, in the direction of the hideous stink, until he stopped abruptly. When Mason saw why, her heart dropped into her stomach.

Ahead of them on either side of the road were acres of farmland. But there were no crops and no livestock.

Hundreds of walkers had taken the land.

"Shit."