Abraham sauntered towards the group of construction workers I had yet to meet, but he seemed rather familiar with them. The taller one of the men eyed me but shook hands with Abraham and tapped his shoulder as he began talking with him, leading him to the cars—the foreman, he had told me before arriving. His name was Tobin.

My stomach whirled as I approached the car, but I tried not to show it on my face. Abraham knew me and knew what I was capable of which meant that I could work without having to feel the need to explain my every action.

"Yeah, it's just moving the stuff over today, getting as many supplies ready so we can start the expansion," Tobin explained to Abraham. When he stopped at the car, he seemed to finally pay attention to the fact that I had been following them. "Where are you going?"

"With you," I pointed to the car.

"Reg said he wanted her to come," Abraham side-eyed Tobin.

I clenched my teeth, perhaps returning to the house was not such a bad idea . . .

"Right, right," he feigned insight. "Ace, is it? Yeah, I'm sure we can find something for you to do when we get there." He turned back to address the rest of his group and called out, "We should move out, get there ASAP to get this job done."

Abraham nudged me with his elbow and opened the passenger door for me to take a seat. He walked around to one of the driver's side and took his seat.

"Not so bad," he offered.

It was, but I kept that to myself.

When we arrived, Abraham had been assigned to move sheets of corrugated metal with one of the workers, Bruce. Tobin gave out similar assignments to all of them,

"Right, Ace . . ." he pretended to think, rubbing the back of his neck when he realised I was there for a second time in thirty minutes. "It's a lot of heavy lifting. Why don't you, uh, take watch in the truck there?"

"Why would Reg tell me to come down here if he just wanted me to sit in the truck, do you think?" Tobin swallowed and frowned. "You don't know? Funny that."

"Come on," Francine jutted her chin as she took one of the rifles. "Sit back and let them do the hard work."

I held my tongue because I didn't want to offend her. Being on watch was one of the most important jobs when you had workers out in the open. Francine meant well—maybe she didn't have the skills to help with the building and that's why she was on watch. But I had those skills, and that doesn't negate the fact that they can be taught. If I was being put on watch while they moved supplies around, they would make me do the same when they built the wall.

"You realise I was a mechanic?" I asked as Francine walked away, so they could lift her into the bucket of a digger. "

"Just for today," he said, his mind made up. "See what we do around here before you stick your feet in."

"Whatever." I grabbed the gun. "I won't be coming back."

He called after me. "Don't you think that's a little childish?"

"I'm sorry, would my being kind and delightful change anything for you?" I turned around, holding my hands together with my fingers intertwined as I batted my lashes. Then I hardened up, "I'm sixteen, what did you expect?"

Though his mouth snapped shut, I realised he probably didn't expect me to even be there. Had Reg even told him? I turned away, snatching the gun from one of the men whose name I didn't care to learn anymore before walking to the truck. I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, I shouldn't have expected anything different.

Things had been easier when I worked in my dad's garage, easier in the sense that the workers there knew me and what my dad could teach me; they had always been accepting of women mechanics. But if I had just walked in through the doors of any other place, I would have been treated as I was today.

Still, even if things were great with the other mechanics, any customers would hate that I worked there. And in the face of customers, I only worked on the desk, using the downtime to revise for my exams at the same time. Dad never let me work on any of their cars, and he told them as much, but sometimes the customer would leave anyway and sometimes he would get so upset that he'd refuse to serve them.

I learnt mechanics from old cars he sold when we fixed them together, but even some of his coworkers would pay us off the books if something went wrong and let me practise. I was so close to getting my licence before the world ended.

All that to say, I missed the garage, and the people who trusted me with their cars—or work, in this case.

I kept watch for maybe an hour before I became bored, even longer before anyone passed by or said a quick hello. Once over half a day had gone, Abraham walked over to me, on a little break. He eyed the rest of the group as he walked over to me, before his gaze finally settled on me, how I was sat back in the truck with a gun over my lap.

"Thought you came down here to get your hands dirty?" He reached over the bed for a bottle of water inside one of the bags.

I shrugged. "They're afraid I'll sabotage the wall."

Abraham shook his head like he didn't set me up perfectly for the joke. "Not funny. I apologised for that."

"I'm not sure you did," I said with a frown.

His bait worked, one to get me to look at him and play along because the sentence was such an outrageous take. I don't think Abraham has apologised to anyone about anything, let alone yelling at me over the bus. I would have remembered something like that happening.

"No, I did," he said. "The other night."

He seemed adamant, so I thought back. "You gave me a drink the other night."

"Exactly."

"So, in your world, handing someone a beer constitutes an apology?"

"Actions speak louder than words and all that shit," he recited.

"Sounds very American."

"No, no," he waved his hand. "I see it as a universal language."

That sounded like a theory I could test. "So, if I were to punch you in the face, then hand you a sandwich, we're all good?"

"I'd prefer the beer, but you're getting the idea," he agreed.

I scoffed. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I've been told," he nodded and grinned. "Listen, kid. You and I don't have the best track record, I'll admit my own fault in that. I can be a bit rough around the edges, as Rosita puts it. But I'm trying here."

"I know, me too." I could see that much, and I realised that I hadn't exactly been the best person for the past few weeks. As much as he disliked Eugene, I had tried killing him on multiple occasions. They used to be friends. "And for what it's worth, I appreciated the beer—even if it's not exactly a Hallmark apology."

Abraham snorted. "That's a word I haven't heard in a long time, definitely don't miss that from before."

"You're not the sappy card guy?" I feigned surprise. "I'm shocked."

"Smartass." After a second, he put the water bottle back in front of my feet. "Come on, we're here to work, let's put those skilled hands of yours to use."

I realised he meant that he would go back to work, and I had to remain here on watch. Though Abraham seemed more than willing to work with me on the actual construction site. I just didn't want to cause any more drama with the Alexandrians than necessary. Carol told me to keep my head low.

"Oh, gosh, I don't know. Are you sure you can leave me here with this truck?" I called after him, my hands on either side of my face. "What if I blow it up?"

Abraham stopped and turned to face me. "Cute. Real cute. You're a riot, kid."

"Just making sure you know what you're getting into. I do have a reputation to uphold."

"Yeah, yeah, a resident demolitions expert. Just try to keep the explosions to a minimum today," he told me, waving a pretend stern finger.

"I'll do my best," I said in a singsong voice. "But you should keep your distance, just to be safe."

"I'll take my chances," he smiled.

Abraham walked away to help Bruce, only needing to jutt his head in the direction of the building materials for Bruce to understand that he wanted his help to move the supplies. They each grabbed an end before heaving it to the back of the truck.

After a while of moving the metal, Bruce left Abraham and took a stroll into the woods. Abraham took this time to lean against the side of the truck they were moving the supplies to. He looked like he was lost for a second, his eyes on the wooden floor of the truck in front of him.

I leaned back in the bed of the pickup, sticking up a knee to rest my hands on. No part of my mind was focused on looking for walkers, I was more worried about Glenn on the run with Aiden and Nicholas again. It was best I stayed back, so I didn't put up with those two and get myself into danger. The construction site was pretty quiet as far as I could tell—

"Roamers!" Francine yelled.

Cool.

Bruce came sprinting and yelling out from the woods with walkers on his trail while he tried to keep his trousers hoisted. Well, that told me why he left Abraham on his own . . . I guess. Francine started shooting the walkers behind him.

I stood on the back of the truck, reaching for one of the machine guns propped up on the side. Normally, I'd have been concerned about the noise, but everyone else was firing rounds left right and centre, so we were already going to be drawing more walkers in.

Abraham walked to the front of the line, while I fired over their heads, picking my shots to take down the walkers.

In front of me, Tobin switched his aim, but as sprayed the gun, bullets thudded against one of the arms of the digger. That released the hydraulics and the bucket fell forward, dropping Francine from the raised digger to the ground. She landed on her feet, her ankle rolling as he fell to the ground.

Tobin whipped around, looking for witnesses, when we met my eyes.

Some of the men shot the walkers before they could grab her, but no one ran off to help her back before more walkers came and surrounded her.

"Everybody back! Till we're safe in the truck!" Tobin yelled.

Abraham sprinted forward before he stopped. "What about Francine?!"

Tobin made a face and shook his head, and it took everything not to raise my gun there and then. Abraham didn't take that as an answer, and he quickly decided there and then that he had to save Francine himself.

"The rest of us, stay here!" Tobin yelled to the group.

Fuck that.

I hopped over the bed of the pickup and hit the ground running. Abraham didn't deserve to take on that many walkers alone, and he should have had more backup than just me. I grabbed my gun out from my holster ready.

Some of the men yelled out after me, but I knew no one would be following."Girl! What are you doing?!"

"Get back here!"

I looked back at the men and raised my gun as a means of pointing at them. "Don't let me see you after this." Because Tobin especially didn't want to know what I'd do if I could get my hands on him.

I was off again, sprinting towards where I saw Abraham run past the slabs of corrugated metal. As I reached them, Abraham was helping Francine up from the ground, so I made my way past them to kill the walkers that would follow them. My shots were one of the only sounds I heard as I gunned down the line of walkers.

"Ace, on your six!" Abraham called out.

My head shot back to our escape route, seeing a dozen or so more walkers coming for us. I didn't have the bullets in my gun to kill all of these, and Francine was unarmed. I hadn't kept track of what Abraham had used.

Instead of trying to make a run for it, he beelined for the digger with Francine. "Up and in, you first."

As she climbed inside, he closed the door on her. I continued to cover them, giving him enough time to make sure the walkers couldn't get to Francine.

"Back it up, kid!"

Following the order, I stepped back from the walkers in front of us, and when I was close enough to the digger, Abraham pulled me back against the hot metal as walkers approached us from each side. I stared at them, shaking my head.

Abraham smiled—actually smiled. "Mother dick."

"Fuck me," I muttered to myself.

He stared at the walkers for a second, the smile never leaving his face as he ignored me. "I go under, you go over." Was his great plan. "Meetup on the other side and fuck shit up."

You know what? Scratch that, it was a good plan. "Let's do it."

I turned to the vehicle behind us, climbing the large treads in the wheels like a ladder. As I got to the top, I jumped onto the walls that made up the trailer, gripping the top of the roof to balance myself as I walked around the outside.

Francine was watching me, I saw out of the corner of my eyes, and turned in her seat before she leant forward to check for walkers on the other side. I had done the same; it would have been stupid to jump down without knowing what waited for me on the ground.

Burts fired off underneath us startling her.

Abraham was alive, not that I had any doubts. He was made for this. There were three, four streams of bullets before he resurfaced, pushing himself out on his back from under the digger and using the steps to pull himself to his feet.

Francine opened the window. "Abraham!"

"Heads up!" He threw the gun up to her. "You take out the ass end, I got the uglies in the front."

He stepped to the side and reached for a flail. . . okay?

My gun was in my hand, and I fired off three more shots at the walkers in the chokepoint made by the back end of the digger and the scraps of corrugated metal. I shot down a few walkers in the distance, spreading out the walkers left alive before my gun clicked.

"I'm out!"

"Coming down?" May as well, I thought. I was useless up there now. I stepped off the side of the trailer at his request and dropped down into his arms before he dropped me to the side of him. "Get the ones from behind."

It had only really occurred to me now of his status in the army, but he slipped back into the role so well. Since I'd known him I'd seen him as an ass, more recently he was empty—he was like me, should I say? But seeing him now was like he'd never lost himself to the lies given to him by Eugene, like he had purpose again, even if it was for this short time.

And frankly, I felt the same.

I nodded, accepting the order and spinning on the balls of my feet to the oncoming walkers behind. I pulled my axe out, kicking back the first walker before swinging the spike down and piercing its head in one go.

"That's it, single file!" Abraham yelled out behind me like it was the best day of his life. That day turned sour rather quickly. "Mother dick!"

His mace broke. I recognised the frustration in his shout. "You need to carry another gun."

"Didn't do you any good," he said, before grunting as he hit the next walker with the handle that snapped, grunting from the exertion.

"It killed 15 walkers," I reminded him.

"Semantics."

I grabbed my axe from the belt and called out to him, frustrated with his flippant nature on killing the walkers. "Abraham!"

When he turned around, I chucked the axe at him and he caught it by the handle. He grinned, before trying it out with a grunt as he swung the spike down, taking the whole corpse to the ground with momentum alone.

As he stood back up, he spun the weapon around in his hand. "I might be taking this."

"Like hell you are."

He barked out a laugh. "Don't forget your end!"

When I looked back, the walkers had grown in numbers, and I had given the weapon I was best with to Abraham. After Michonne taught me how to use it, the axe was becoming second nature and I was easily killing many walkers in a row with it.

The knife would have to do.

I walked forward, pulling my arm down to my hip before lunging it forward, keeping my body to the side. Retracting my arm, I kicked forward to the walker in front of me, which fell back, hitting its head on the front wheel of the digger.

As I went to stab the next walker, one behind tripped over the body and fell forward, knocking my arm and the knife free. I stepped back, steadying myself on the corrugated metal as I considered grabbing my knife again, but it was beyond the walker that had fallen.

Instead, I grabbed a hammer, swinging it across my body to strike the walker that I had originally tried killing. It fell to its knees, and I swung the hammer down again. Then I took out the one on the ground, hitting it three times with the head of the hammer.

I grabbed my knife while I had the time, but the tool was just as effective.

Abraham and I fought back to back as gunshots fired off around us. Some belonged to Francine, but the sounds that angered me were the handgun single fires. Had they come back to help us? Only after they saw that we were fine on our own, despite the number of walkers.

Once we whittled the number down, I kicked the last walker and slammed the back of the hammer down into its temple from the side, taking out the last one. Once I got the hammer free, I looked back over my shoulder to Abraham.

"All gone," I said.

"Looks like," Abraham agreed.

Francine hopped down from the digger, falling into Abraham and using that opportunity to hug him as she tried to balance herself. "Thank you," she pushed herself up and looked at me. "Both of you."

"How's that ankle?" Abraham brushed off her thanks.

"A little better, I think it was more of a shock than anything," she said. "I don't think it's anything too serious."

"Good," he nodded, his eyes landing over his shoulder at the builders, and more importantly, Tobin. "Show that prick what's what."

I looked over my shoulder back to the truck where the construction workers were lined, helping. And in the middle of them all was the man I loathed—a coward, like the rest of them, but one that almost got someone killed.

Tobin knew he was fucked when he saw us marching over to him. "Look, before anyone gets into anything—"

"You shot the fucking digger!" I yelled. "You're the reason we were even in that situation, and then you just abandoned her!"

Abraham shoved him back. "That how it works with you? You leave people behind to die?"

"We have a system. Tell him, Francine. We have a—"

He couldn't get the system out before she stepped forward, smashing her fist into his jaw, a move that sent Tobin flying backwards. Francine breathed heavily through her nose as she stared at him, and I could feel the anger seething from her.

"Asshole."

Abraham nodded at her.

Tobin raised his hands and opened his mouth to defend himself when I pounced. I grabbed his shirt, my movement quick enough to slam him back against the car. "Things are going to change here, nobody gets left behind anymore. If you try, I'll put a bullet in your fucking head, do you hear me?" I released him with a shove and turned away. "Fuck me if I hear one more thing about your people's fucking systems—!"

I stopped beside Abraham, staring out at the trees behind us.

"Hey, all that noise is bound to draw more," Tobin finally attempted to speak again. "I say we call it and start fresh in the morning, all right?"

"Screw that," Abraham waved him off. "Francine, you good?"

"Got at least three hours of daylight left," she nodded.

He nodded, turning to me. "Ace?"

"I'm not quitting because these assholes can't kill some walkers," I scoffed and addressed the builders. "We keep going. Anyone who doesn't like that can fuck off."

He took that as permission to continue and turned to the other men that were gathered around. "I want two lookouts. One in the bucket and one on the trucks. Should give us more than enough warning if more are coming after the bash and pop," Abraham said. "Now pull the cobwebs out of your ass and move. We got a wall to build."

I kept my mouth shut, Abraham didn't need a hype man this time. He seemed to be telling everyone what to do just fine by himself, ordering the construction crew around.

"Might want to take a gun again," Abraham told Francine. "Keep off that leg."

"Yeah, for the best," Francine agreed. "I'll take the truck this time, though."

"With these dicks shooting around here, I don't think anywhere is safe," he laughed with her before Francine headed to the truck.

"We need a watch in the bucket," Bruce said, and I could see the way his eyes landed on me.

"So do it," I told him. "Not sure what that has to do with me."

I walked away before someone could make me offer myself the job. Tobin shot the bucket that made it fall, and I was not going to be the person inside of it risking their lives because the construction group couldn't do their jobs properly. They needed training with guns—not just guns, killing walkers by any means, making them less afraid to do it so fewer people get left behind.

Over where we killed the walkers, I started by dragging some of the bodies out of the way. Moving them to the vehicle would be difficult if I was falling over all the bodies left behind.

I knelt, feeling the pile of metal with each hand as I squatted in front of it. When I finally got my arms in the right place, I wrapped my fingers around the slabs before pushing up with my knees. I struggled to get the farther end up for a second.

"Here, let me help you," Abraham said, but before he got to me I lifted the metal myself. He raised his hands almost in defence and then flagged me forward. "My apologies, missy. You go right on ahead."

"I did work in a garage, as little as you cared to believe that," I brushed my hair back behind my ears, my palms resting on either side of my head as I looked back at the pile of metal. "Though, it has been a long time since then."

Abraham shrugged, gulping water. "Not that long."

That hit hard because it was true. I last worked in my dad's garage maybe a year and a half ago—everything that happened came along so quickly that it could have melded into one instance. There were subtle bookmarks between the stages of violence we experienced.

"Hard to keep the muscles without food," I said, taking a second to come back from my maths. My eyes trailed over to him as I realised what I said wasn't the case for everyone. "Though, I guess you just don't have that problem."

"I have very rarely been starving," Abraham said. "Our wander down the roads to get here was probably the second time."

"Must be nice," I muttered.

"Yup," he agreed sarcastically. "Living the dream. I will admit though I used to be stronger—guess we all were, or at least, thought we were."

I was the former over the latter unless I did think I was much stronger than I felt at that moment. However, since the beginning, I had suspicions that work I'd once be able to do for hours was becoming increasingly difficult.

I leaned across to the metal, looking down at the bodies that got in my way to load up the metal. Nobody attempted to move the walkers off the building site, and none of the Alexandrians offered, not that it shocked me.

"Are we going to move them?" I asked, tapping one of the walkers with my shoe.

"Maybe, if only to lose that smell."

I frowned. "I don't think we'll ever lose that smell."

"Probably not," he agreed.

There were always walkers around, it shocked me that we could go anywhere and get a break from the horrid scent. I wondered for a second if they smelt worse after we killed them, or if it was just because I could finally begin to notice the smell now I wasn't fighting for my life.

My mind wandered back to the walker's arrival as I dragged a woman's body back and away from the metal plates we needed to get through the walls. I focused mainly on Abraham, who seemed like a completely different person than since I'd met him.

The only encounter I could remember him killing since we met were the Terminus members who tried to take our group to the church, but he didn't seem to enjoy that—I certainly didn't. But Abraham bludgeoned someone to death. It was a completely different experience than what we handled today.

Maybe he had always found killing walkers entertaining, at least when we killed them after finding the fire engine and he saw the sign for sick people inside he laughed aloud at the irony of the warning we were unable to see.

"Looked like you were having the best day of your life," I recounted, dropping the arms of the walker.

"Like you weren't," Abraham brushed me off.

"That wasn't fun, it was . . . work, at the very least." I didn't miss the way my mind chalked the life-saving act we carried out to just a day at the office. Francine was alive because of Abraham, and I killed the walkers there, though he probably would have been just fine on his own.

"It's all work, may as well make some parts of this shit storm enjoyable."

"I don't—" I shook my head, not wanting to finish my sentence. I was going to say that I didn't want to find it enjoyable, but my last expectation, that I would never find killing (walkers or humans) normal, was starting to fade. I had tried on multiple opportunities where killing was unnecessary. "Never mind."

"They aren't the same," Abraham said. "Killing them, it doesn't matter."

"I just don't find most things enjoyable anymore," I got out.

"It's hard," he agreed, his voice recalling what he was telling her the other night. "I often fall down that rabbit hole of shit. Right now, since we found this place, I'm just grabbing the bull by the nutsack and riding this thing out."

Part of me wanted to analyse his sentence, but instead, I just chewed on the inside of my lip. What would be the point of trying? "I'm going to pretend I know what you said so we can get back to work."

Abraham laughed. "Sounds like a plan."

Abraham was called away by Tobin at some point as we worked, which I let happen, using it as an opportunity to sit down on the metal pile. I watched them for a while, a conversation had a lot of Tobin looking apologetic while he spoke while Abraham just stood there nodding.

Afterwards, Abraham walked away to help the others. Tobin looked over at me, met my eyes, but didn't approach. Shocker. I just stared at him for as long as it took, waiting for his gaze to waver before he turned and walked away. It was all I could do—same with Eugene—to prove that it would be very unlikely for me to forgive them.

After thirty minutes or so, Abraham returned from around the digger. He walked over and sat down on the metal. "Looks like we get to lead the construction site, not bad for a day's work."

I tilted my head, staring through him.

Tobin left a little while back and nobody knew where he went. He must've gone to Deanna and told her that Abraham should be in charge of the construction group, and that is what they were talking about before. Abraham must've thought that he'd come to me too. A rather stupid assumption seeing as the only time I was able to help with the construction was after Abraham took over.

The corners of my mouth pulled back into my cheeks as I shook my head. "Just you."

He frowned, his brows knitting together. "No."

"He hasn't spoken to me." Thank God.

"Tobin said we both did a good job out there, gave him some space so he could come speak to you," he said. "He didn't?"

"I mean, yeah, he'll bring me up," I raised my hands as I shrugged my shoulders. "Sure. But if he went back to Deanna and told her what you did, he then told her that I'm the person that threatened him. Doesn't equate to leadership."

And that was the truth, I got angry with them because Tobin almost caused someone's death and left her to die. Maybe I was angry about the obvious sexism on top, putting me and Francine on watch instead of letting us help, but either way, I would not be included as someone fit to lead.

"It makes sense anyway. You did the most of it—I killed some walkers, but you saved Francine. You took over and told everyone what they needed to do."

Abraham was more annoyed than me, maybe because he realised that he had done the same thing that the builders had done to me when we met. He, too, had doubted my skills and questioned me every time I tried to make a decision, blaming me if something went wrong.

I had so little care on the matter it shocked me.

"It's alright, I know I didn't put the work in for an outcome like that," I said.

"You did," Abraham tried shutting me down, only showing me that I didn't explain it well enough.

"I didn't put enough work in for an outcome like that for me."

If there was sexism at play, it didn't negate the fact that I was not one of the trusted members of this group, which worked well for me. I wasn't expected to put the work in, because nobody trusted me to, which allowed me to cut a lot of slack.

On top of that, my jobs, the mechanics, didn't have the parts or urgency for me to be doing it all the time. I would have to plan runs, which meant I'd have to consult people I didn't want to speak to. If a car broke down, someone would come to me, and then I'd get the things I needed to do my job. I could focus on what Rick wanted, keeping an eye on this place, and being ready to take it if we needed.

"Shit sucks."

"I don't care," I shrugged. "I've led before, not missing out or anything."

"It's not about missing out, it's about getting what's fair."

"Trust me, I am fine without it."

Abraham gave me a knowing look as I stared ahead. "That bad, huh?"

I shook my head, scrunching up my face. "No, it was fine. I just felt . . . I don't know."

There wasn't a word to describe what I felt when I was leading, it felt like a lot and not that much at the same time, seeing as the war had just ended. Most days I was bored, and other days I was paranoid out of my mind that we'd be seeing the Governor again—if only I knew how right I was.

He nodded, partly understanding, agreeing with my vague description of why I didn't want to do that again.

"You'll be getting better roles now," he promised. "I wouldn't trust anyone more to put up a wall."

I raised a brow. "Even if I blow it up?"

"Even then."

I nodded, letting out a small chuckle as I shook my head. Just something else I was never going to let go.

"It's so weird, seeing people that can't kill walkers," I said, changing the topic.

"And I bet you were always so amazing," Abraham raised a brow.

I could have claimed how amazing I have always been, but I didn't have it in me to joke any more. I was tired. "When a little girl went missing—Carol's daughter—Rick taught us all to shoot. After that, I made Daryl take me into the woods so I could practise fighting them, taking them out with a knife because I'd never done it before. That was maybe a month or two in."

It was my fault, was what I left out—I made Rick and Daryl teach me to shoot or kill walkers so I could rectify the damage I did at the farm.

"I made myself learn because I had to," I said. "That's why these people, or fucking . . . Eugene," I choked out his name, "seeing people just skate by without a care in the world. It's starting to piss me off. You need to learn, it's just common sense."

"Yeah, me too." He added after a beat, "Now."

That was probably more in the reference to Eugene, someone he'd willingly protected, allowing him to go without learning under the guise of keeping him safe. It would have been safer just to teach him, but now I couldn't work out whether that was his doing or Eugenes.

"Sun's going down. You should go speak to your people," I nodded.

Abraham stood. "I suppose I should."

As the crowd was beginning to gather, ready to head back as the construction site was becoming increasingly harder to see. Abraham waved them all in as he pushed himself up on one of the big trucks, the sun set behind him as he began to speak.

"Today," he took a pause, "has been one hell of a long day. And we're almost done here, but I wanted to get one thing clear before we all head back, let you think about it before we come back here and ride this merry-go-round all over again. Things are gonna change, and they're gonna change real fast. We don't leave people to die."

There was a nod from some of the men, and Francine let out a quiet, yeah!

That had to be step one: changing the system they had built their run group and construction site on, because the way they had been running things had proven to get people killed. They lost four people on a run, we almost lost one today.

"You're all gonna get better at killing those things because you're gonna have to if you wanna keep working out here," he said. "If you don't think you can handle that, find another job, if shit goes down—and it will go down—any person unequipped will get everyone else—"

(Dead.)

"—killed."

(Okay.)

I laughed at my little joke in my head, before leaning forward on my knees.

"I'm not gonna have something like that over my head," he said. "And you lot shouldn't either. Anyone who wants a little extra practice, come talk to me and we'll head outside the walls and kill those sacks of shit."

I looked up at him and met his eyes. Abraham was going to do what I told him, what I had done myself back on the farm to get used to killing walkers. He nodded at me, either as a way of thanking or including me in this.

"Times are a-changin', and we have only just begun," he said. "Let's roll out!"