Fog Bastards 1 Intention Read Online Free PDF
Author: Bill Robinson
stand. Then I put my foot up on the boulder, trying to look cool.
"Cute girl," it seems a strange way for the conversation to start, "but you shouldn't lie to her about your feelings."
"You want to kill me, and you're worried that I tell my girlfriend I love her when I don't?"
"Our intent is to save lives, your death is the tradeoff that balances the karma, not something we want."
I was actually calm now, thinking somewhat rationally. I had a legitimate question.
"What power, exactly, do I get if I open door number 1?"
"Good question. We want you to be able to be a symbol, as well as accomplish great things. Think part Superman, part Spiderman, part Captain Marvel."
"You've got to be shittin' me. I'm going to be able to fly?"
"You already do, but in the future you won't require a plane. Some of the comic stuff is stupid, so no super cold breath, no X-ray vision, no webbing, just magnified human capabilities."
He's distracting me. The fog is getting brighter, the light is sneaking up on me, and he's helping it.
"I haven't decided on anything," though actually I have decided to yell, "Stop it now!"
"You have decided. The part of your brain that has hasn't told the part of your brain that hasn't. Trust the light."
It clearly isn't stopping. I can feel it now, pulsating, alive. It's talking to me, though I can't quite make out the words.
Then, hallelujah, my cheek is wet, a little rubber ball is rolling down it, and Halloween is looking me in the eye once more, giving me a soft mew unlike anything she's ever said before. She's sitting on Jen, square in the middle of the long blonde hair splayed across her back, who now is awake and taking offense.
"Good morning, beautiful," rolls out of my mouth. Beautiful rolls over and kisses me.
"Molly's coming over to pick me up. You don't have to drop me off at work." Molly is her BFF, who does the same thing Jen does, whatever that is, in the next cubicle. "She'll be here at seven, so I need to hit the shower first."
Jen heads for the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the closet, checking the stuff she has in her half of the medicine cabinet. I get up and make her regular breakfast, two glasses of orange juice and real cooked oatmeal. I walk out with her to make my run, ask her if she wants to have Sunday dinner with my parents, accept her yes, kiss her goodbye, and run off into the morning.
I spend the run having an argument about whether or not I have actually made a choice. No giant marshmallow man appears, but that doesn't mean anything. I have a feeling that the light might be right. Home and into the shower, Halloween once again watching me as I get out. There may be doubt about whether or not I have decided to die, but there is no longer any doubt in my mind that Halloween knows when Fog Dude is in my head, doesn't like him, and is protecting me. The only question I have is whether or not that means I should listen to her, and not my own brain.
Thursday is my second day of rest, but I am anything but restful. All I can think about is truth and consequences. I go down to South Coast Plaza mall, ostensibly to replace the shorts I ripped on Monday, but mostly just to be in the midst of people. And there are lots of people there, all shapes, sizes, ages, colors, you name it. After a couple hours, I leave with a new pair of shorts in a bag, a couple cheap tacos in my stomach, and fog still swirling in my head. Starbuck gets me home on autopilot, I don't remember the trip.
Jen texts that she is coming by with makings for a stir fry. I'm not really in the mood, but I don't have much choice. A short snicker of derision echoes across my apartment. No choice. What's the guy in the sucky Matrix sequel say, choice is an illusion? It's not fair. The choice should be take the power, or walk away, not take the power or have something bad happen to
"Cute girl," it seems a strange way for the conversation to start, "but you shouldn't lie to her about your feelings."
"You want to kill me, and you're worried that I tell my girlfriend I love her when I don't?"
"Our intent is to save lives, your death is the tradeoff that balances the karma, not something we want."
I was actually calm now, thinking somewhat rationally. I had a legitimate question.
"What power, exactly, do I get if I open door number 1?"
"Good question. We want you to be able to be a symbol, as well as accomplish great things. Think part Superman, part Spiderman, part Captain Marvel."
"You've got to be shittin' me. I'm going to be able to fly?"
"You already do, but in the future you won't require a plane. Some of the comic stuff is stupid, so no super cold breath, no X-ray vision, no webbing, just magnified human capabilities."
He's distracting me. The fog is getting brighter, the light is sneaking up on me, and he's helping it.
"I haven't decided on anything," though actually I have decided to yell, "Stop it now!"
"You have decided. The part of your brain that has hasn't told the part of your brain that hasn't. Trust the light."
It clearly isn't stopping. I can feel it now, pulsating, alive. It's talking to me, though I can't quite make out the words.
Then, hallelujah, my cheek is wet, a little rubber ball is rolling down it, and Halloween is looking me in the eye once more, giving me a soft mew unlike anything she's ever said before. She's sitting on Jen, square in the middle of the long blonde hair splayed across her back, who now is awake and taking offense.
"Good morning, beautiful," rolls out of my mouth. Beautiful rolls over and kisses me.
"Molly's coming over to pick me up. You don't have to drop me off at work." Molly is her BFF, who does the same thing Jen does, whatever that is, in the next cubicle. "She'll be here at seven, so I need to hit the shower first."
Jen heads for the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the closet, checking the stuff she has in her half of the medicine cabinet. I get up and make her regular breakfast, two glasses of orange juice and real cooked oatmeal. I walk out with her to make my run, ask her if she wants to have Sunday dinner with my parents, accept her yes, kiss her goodbye, and run off into the morning.
I spend the run having an argument about whether or not I have actually made a choice. No giant marshmallow man appears, but that doesn't mean anything. I have a feeling that the light might be right. Home and into the shower, Halloween once again watching me as I get out. There may be doubt about whether or not I have decided to die, but there is no longer any doubt in my mind that Halloween knows when Fog Dude is in my head, doesn't like him, and is protecting me. The only question I have is whether or not that means I should listen to her, and not my own brain.
Thursday is my second day of rest, but I am anything but restful. All I can think about is truth and consequences. I go down to South Coast Plaza mall, ostensibly to replace the shorts I ripped on Monday, but mostly just to be in the midst of people. And there are lots of people there, all shapes, sizes, ages, colors, you name it. After a couple hours, I leave with a new pair of shorts in a bag, a couple cheap tacos in my stomach, and fog still swirling in my head. Starbuck gets me home on autopilot, I don't remember the trip.
Jen texts that she is coming by with makings for a stir fry. I'm not really in the mood, but I don't have much choice. A short snicker of derision echoes across my apartment. No choice. What's the guy in the sucky Matrix sequel say, choice is an illusion? It's not fair. The choice should be take the power, or walk away, not take the power or have something bad happen to
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