The Tales of Flesh and Blood

Just A Giddy Fu-

Neither of Landon's friends were at my apartment, as far as I could tell. At least, nothing appeared out of place when I snuck in to grab the small chunk of plastic I had kept on a small shelf in the living room. I had no device to watch it on, and since it couldn't get me in trouble (or so I thought), I hadn't felt the need to secure it somewhere private. Damn, was I wrong.

One thing, though, that I couldn't get out of my head, was why hadn't Landon asked me about the flashdrive when he was busy choking the dear life out of me? Had he forgotten, or did he not need it until after? And if that was the case, why was this rest-station robbery different from the others?

It was dark outside, the cloud-coverage above blocking the stars and moon from view of the surface. There were a few people smoking and leaning up against the wall, and one of the guys tried to catcall me, but I ignored them and headed out towards the street, which was lined with a few lamps that flickered on and off in irregular patterns. I pulled my hood over my head and walked past run-down houses and trailer homes, keeping my eyes downcasted and my ears alert. I wasn't about to meet up with the two boys who were ready to shoot and rape me in the dark behind sketchy apartment buildings - it would be far safer if I took it straight to the person who really wanted the flashdrive. At least, I hoped it was. I grew up with Landon; I knew his little siblings and mother (though not so much his father; that guy was rarely home, and it wasn't like I hung out at his place). The likelihood of Landon trying something on me in his family's home was a lot lower than what it would be if I'd met his friends behind mine.

Friday nights, man. I'm starting to hate them.

Had it really only been a week since Frenice? Better not make these adventures a habit, I thought to myself as I neared an old, white house with a crooked porch and worse stained windows. It wasn't as small as the other homes around here, but for a family of eleven for people the size of Landon, it was tiny. Judging from the lack of vehicles that normally crowded the wide open front yard, I guessed that most of Landon's family was out doing whatever it was they liked to do. I sighed, my shoulder still aching from earlier, though it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Truly, it was amazing how the porch was still intact. As I made my way up the steps, the wood groaned and creaked under my weight. I wondered if Landon's family crawled out of the windows. Trying to regain my composure, I raised a fist and rapped my knuckles against the metal door. Someone had to be home.

Ironically enough, Landon's dad was the one who answered the door, and I was not impressed. He was the classic definition of a beat-down; tall, big around the belly, bare-chested with a pair of red shorts straining around his waist - oh, and lets not forget the cheap, off-brand beer can in his hand. As far as complexions were, he didn't look much like Landon, with his dark, beady eyes and thin, dark hair, but it was easy to see where the big boy might've got his height.

I pulled my hood down so that he could see my face.

"I'm here for Landon," I said awkwardly when he didn't say anything. He gruffed.

"At least you're pretty," he mumbled beneath his breath. "Landon!" he bellowed. "One of your girls is here!"

"Excuse me, I'm not-" I started, not enjoying the heat rushing to my cheeks. "I would never-"

"Yeah, yeah," Landon's dad waved my comment away. "I was a teenage boy once, too." He stepped back, holding the door open to give me room. I hesitated, not at all enjoying the smell of alcohol and cigarettes that reeked from the inside. I should have been used to it by now, considering where I lived, but I didn't enjoy feeling like I was wading through the stuff. Don't get me wrong, I'm not pure by any means where alcohol is concerned. I guess I'm just more careful than others when it comes down to where the stuff goes - for instance, I'd rather not have my clothes smell like a blind alcoholic.