Tomorrow's chapter will be much longer. :)

REVIEW REPLIES:

-Maltara101
Hehe! I'm glad you're loving this story! :D And yeah, she kinda does, now that you point it out. Well, she is her niece. :) Hehe! Yup! Daniel and Kenna's heart-to-heart was one of my favorite parts of that chapter to write. :) Thank you for reading and reviewing!

-Mozzi-Girl (The Beast!)
Aww, thank you, Molly! :D Glad you're liking the story so far!

-DizzyRedhead
It's like, every boyfriend's worst fear. And in this case, girlfriend. :) I'm glad you're interested! :D Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Alright, so I will be working on Fable of Death a lot more, especially since I got out of that stinkin' fort that I've been in for two months. (If you have read the story, you will know what I'm talking about. :) )

Also, I will be posting my original stories tonight. I have a poem about the apocalypse and then more of a huge story I am working on. I'll make sure to give you guys the links tomorrow. :)

And I do poke a little fun at Texas. If you are from Texas, I don't mean to cause offense. I love the south, especially their accents. :) And I did a little research on the city I am using, so if you actually do live in Dell City, you're free to tell me off if I didn't get something right. I made up a few things in order to keep the story going. But I tried not to change the history of Dell City.

Alright, I need to go find my Hunter jacket for school, or I'll be stuck wearing my blood-stained Zoey cosplay jacket. -.- (The problems of a cosplayer/gamer...)

Please Enjoy! :D

My first impression of Dell City; Birth of Country. I didn't even think farms existed anymore! (I know, foolish thinking, but you shouldn't expect more from an Urban, Californian chick like myself.)

"Wow..." I muttered, as Keith and I waited outside the airport for our cab. "It looks just like..."

"Stereotypical Texas?" Keith asked with a smirk. "Yeah, it kind of does." He breathed in the rural air and smiled slightly. "See that ice cream shop over there," he said, directing my vision towards a boarded up, old stand. I frowned.

"You mean that piece of junk?" I asked and Keith chuckled lightly.

"Yeah," he said, cocking his head and smiling. "It used to be very successful when I was younger. My sister and I would always ride down here on our rusted bikes and buy as much ice cream as we could."

"You guys lived pretty close?" I asked and he shrugged. "If you count two miles down the road close, then yes."

The cab pulled up to where we were standing and Keith offered to pack my bags in the trunk. While he did so, I gazed off to that lone once-ice cream stand. It was hard to imagine a younger, happier Keith playing with his sister and constantly riding down two miles and back, just for some ice cream. I mean, Daniel and I had that kind of relationship when I was younger. I started to wonder more about why Keith hated his family so much. What happened that made him move away from his home at the young age of 18, and all the way to San Francisco?

"C'mon, Kenna!" Keith called and waved towards the cab. "We gotta get to the house before sunset!"

"Coming!" I replied and abandoned my sights on the stand. I joined Keith in the car and we set off on our short drive down the road. Keith made friendly conversation with our driver, who talked with a thick Texan accent that I didn't seem to understand. Keith caught on quickly and another thing struck me; Did Keith have an accent like this man's at one point?

The man stopped the car in front of a small home, guarded by an enormous sized barn that was accompanied by at least 10 acres of field. A lone tractor skimmed through the large field, creating good soil for the next harvest.

"Is that your father?" I asked and Keith shrugged.

"Could be..." Keith muttered and we approached the door of the smaller house, carrying our bags. Keith reached to knock on the door, but it was thrown open before his knuckles could make any contact. A large pig ran out, squealing at the top of its lungs. A stout woman with curly blonde hair ran out the door, holding a butcher's knife in her hand and waving it furiously.

"You get back here you piece of sh..." she stopped almost instantly when she saw us. She glanced at the knife and quietly placed it in a pocket stitched to the front of her apron. "May I help you?" she asked. She eyed our bags as if hoping for the worst reply.

"Nice to see you again too, Mom," Keith grumbled and the woman's eyes widened.

"Keith?" she asked and he rolled his eyes.

"I'm back," he said and I heard footsteps coming towards the door. Out stepped a woman who looked around Keith's age. She, like the stout woman, had curly, blonde hair that was tied together with a rubberband into a messy pony tail. Her deep, blue eyes matched Keith's and I began to wonder if she was the sister he had mentioned earlier.

"And so the Prodigal Son returns," she remarked, shaking her head.

"Nice to see you too, Kira," Keith growled.

"And who's this chick?" Kira asked, pointing towards me. "She don't look like she's got any Texan blood."

I was barely catching on to their conversation.

"Mom...Kira, this is my partner, Kenna. Hopefully the local sheriff didn't forget to mention her. She and I are going to stay here until we solve our case."

Keith's mom scratched beneath her chin. "We didn't get no call about you two stayin' here."

"That's because you hung up the phone when they said it was the Police Department, Mom," Kira said and shook her head. "But, since ya'll are here...Might as well make an exception; right Mom?"

The woman began to think again and then shrugged. "Fine by me," she then took out her butcher's knife and walked pass me. "I'm going to go catch our dinner," she called over her shoulder. "Show them around, Kira-Baby!"

Kira rolled her eyes and escorted us into the house.

I had only been here for five minutes, and I was already considering a hotel. Was I even going to survive the night?