The Tales of Flesh and Blood

My Dead Dinosaur And Hadi

Awkwardly, I cleared my throat, looking up to give Jaxon a sheepish grin. At some point during my story, Jaxon had retrieved a box of salted cheddar crackers from one of the cabinets and a package of cream cheese from the fridge. I didn't think the combination would work very well, but after he offered me one, I tossed the doubts aside. Either this mix was the most incredible thing in the world or I was just that hungry.

"That was when Landon introduced me to Frenice," I said through a mouthful of cracker and cream cheese. "I don't remember much afterwards, only that Frenice wanted to talk to me more the following Friday. Funnily enough, that Friday I witnessed a robbery at a local rest-station, and that was when everything went to shit."

I further elaborated on everything else. How Frenice had showed up at my apartment and talked me into going out. How we were almost caught in a hit-and-run incident and he shot someone right next to me - then held me at gunpoint for the rest of the drive.

How I had taken the moment to call Jaxon, and then Ven decided to imposter Port and gave me a flashdrive to make up for a simple 'misunderstanding'. Then there was my confrontation with Landon after school, Port ordering me not to piss Frenice off, the boys in the bathroom, watching the flash drive with Landon, the fight with Ven . . . Yeesh, I was spilling everything. But I couldn't stop. Jaxon and Frenice were the only people who seemed willing to help me, and Jaxon did have a point when he claimed that me holding back information could actually hurt his chances. When I got to the part when Frenice picked me up after school, though, I didn't tell him about the six-eyed monster injecting drugs into my arm, which made Frenice's explanation of why people were after me a little hard to cover up.

"I was poisoned somehow, and Frenice knew some friends that could help," I shrugged, mostly in an attempt to wave away the unease building up in my stomach. "They were . . . strange. One of them kept talking about how amazing it was that my mother didn't kill me. Frenice said the same thing, but he . . ."

"He didn't elaborate," Jaxon finished. I nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. Telling someone that people thought it was a shock that my own mother did not kill me came with a mess of its own emotions. For one thing, when Frenice and his . . . friend . . . expressed that interesting detail, they were saying it as a matter-of-fact, with no intention of trying to insult me. As if they were telling me that the forecast mentioned there had been a ninety percent chance of rain, but none came.

"Correct," I agreed. "He just said that because she didn't . . . ehm . . . kill me, it meant that there was a chance these guys could use me as leverage."

Jaxon frowned thoughtfully.

"What about the other kids they've been snatching? Do they have any relations with her?"

I shrugged.

"He kept insisting that there were multiple sides to this case. Maybe these kids are ones she's interacted with at some point during their lives, or maybe they have shitty parents like mine. I don't know." I raised my eyes from a cracker that I've been nibbling on to look at him. "Are we done now? Jaxon?"

"Huh?" Jaxon startled. He had been staring at the table; I was about to repeat what I had said when he shook his head.

"You said that you were talking to Fayette and Becka at the bar, right?"

I gave him an odd look.

"That's the only thing you got out of all that?"

He held up his hand. Wait, the gesture said.

"Fayette. You said that she had started talking about your mom."

I nodded slowly.

"Yeah. She wasn't the first, though. Other kids have been slamming that down my throat ever since the warehouse explosions."