Page 2 of Jackson

Sometimes life felt like one cruel and twisted joke.

I barely recalled any of the information as Jackson ran through the basics on using a flint (the rock-looking thing) on a dried out fiber (the rope) and then stopping the spread of it with an immovable and inflammable object (the pebbles). It wasn’t until I was being tugged away by Tyson over to another station close-by that I realized I’d kind of fucking screwed myself over by letting my mind get distracted.

“Can’t believe they’re letting us play with fire on the first day. They’re nuts,” Tyson was saying while grabbing at the flint.

I shook my head. “We’re low-risk. That’s why.”

“So says you,” he shot back at me.

“I’ll just let you take the reins on this one,” I said, glancing back over my shoulder to the rest of our sixteen-person brigade.

Most of them were already getting busy with trying to start and stoke their fires, while the other firefighters were walking about and observing. Our COs hung back but had watchful eyes for any of us screwing around.

Belatedly, I caught sight of Jackson turning toward Tyson and I, and slowly rising to his feet, an interested arch to his brow.

I quickly turned back around again, my cheeks burning. I really hoped he wasn’t coming over here to observe us.

That’s the last thing I needed—an up close and personal distraction.

“Okay, so he said to strike this on this thing…” Tyson had the flint pressing up against the starter, flicking it a few times. “And then to put it on the rope.”

Sparks flew as he struck the starter, but nothing caught. Leaning over the stump, I squinted at what we had on it. “I think you have to press it against the rope while you’re striking it.”

“Yeah, but that guy didn’t do that.”

I tried to think back to the display Jackson had out for us and to no one’s surprise, my mind was completely blank. All I could remember was how the veins in his arms had flexed when he’d been moving his hands together to strike the flint and catch the rope on fire.

Fuck me… we’re so going to fail.

“Maybe use the ends of the rope?” I suggested. Logically, it made sense… right? Less densely packed material for the fire to burn through.

“Oh, you’re a fucking genius, pumpkins.”

I rolled my eyes at the nickname.

“How we doing over here?” I tensed up at the familiar voice. “Get your flint working yet?”

Jackson hovered behind me, his large body not only imposing but hard to miss.

“Yeah, look at this.” Tyson struck the flint once more over the frayed edges of the rope, immediately lighting it on fire.However, it died just as quickly as it’d started, leaving the edges of the rope singed and slightly smoking. “Aw, what the fuck?”

Jackson moved around me and lowered himself to get closer to the stump; one of his knees dug down into the dirt while the other leg was propped up to allow his elbow to rest on it.

“Try again, but this time, make sure you cup your hand around the flame until you can get it to catch properly. The wind out here will blow a flame out quicker than it can catch it. You’ve got to let yours get enough oxygen first before it can spread up the rope.”

As fascinating as the information was, all I could focus on was how deeplybluehis eyes were. They lingered on me for a moment before quickly darting over to my companion as he struck the flint once more.

Tyson quickly let go of it in order to cup both of his hands around the small embers forming on the rope. He blew on it softly, letting it smolder just as we’d been instructed, and soon, the rope had a healthy flame eating away at it.

“Very nice,” Jackson praised. He leaned forward and quickly huffed the flame out, grabbing the flint and starter. “Why don’t we have your partner try it this time.”

“Oh…” I held my hands up, shaking them. “No, I’m good. I got the gist of it.”

“It helps doing it yourself. Practicing the motions is a lot different than watching.”

The way he said that last sentence, for some reason, immediately shot straight down to my groin. I cleared my throat, needing to rid myself of the weirdly dirty thoughts. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Ignoring me, he set both of the tools in my hand. “Go on. I’ll be right here.”

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