So Not a Hero Read Online Free PDF Page A

walking back towards the busted-up remains of the bus stop. Just because the hero wasn’t planning on detaining me didn’t mean that the EAPF wouldn’t. Even if the worst that happened would be me spending a few hours explaining myself over and over to the guys as The Shack, it would be more than I needed right now.
    “Paulus Building. Two o’clock tomorrow.” Manpower called out. “I’ll make you an appointment.”
    I threw my hand in the air acknowledging that I’d heard him, but I didn’t stop walking. Fine, let him put my name on the list. Perhaps it would be funny to see that ‘Crushette’ was on the team’s schedule. I grabbed my stuff and overruled the nagging urge to look back at him.
    “See you tomorrow, Karen. Don’t be late.”
    My heart stopped for a beat or two and I slowly glanced over my shoulder. The smile on his face was easy to read, even from several yards away. I nearly stalked back to him so I could scream that I wanted to be left alone. That I didn’t want any part of his group’s crusade. But before anything could pass between my lips, an EAPF transport roared past overhead. The bus-sized hovership drifted gently down and came to rest in the middle of the street.
    I slipped the bag onto my shoulder and took off at a brisk walk away from the scene. It took every ounce of willpower not hasten my departure by breaking into a burst of super speed. Running away from the scene of a battle, especially using an Enhancement, would only make them give chase. Better to be mistaken for an In-Bee or even a common, un-Enhanced criminal.
    Once I’d turned a corner, I peeked back around the building and saw Manpower talking with three EAPF agents. He was probably telling them that Crushette had helped him defeat the Brickwall Gang. Not that he would be believed, of course.
    After all, we bad guys never change our evil ways.
    I left the scene of the fight and made my way to the lower rent part of Charlotte. Here on the other side of the tracks–literally–more buildings were boarded up and the multicolored graffiti became less about the Art and more about the designation of territory. I passed by more than one burnt-out vehicle missing everything except the seats and frame.
    This was the perfect place for a young, red-headed, half-Japanese girl to not be. If I wasn’t Enhanced, I’d have been more concerned with the threat of being mugged, raped, or killed. Possibly all three together. However, my only concern was finding a place to lay my head for the evening
    Three hours later, I was reaching the limit of my patience. I’d attempted to find crash space at three shelters, none of which was accepting any new visitor, even though it was just before noon. The last one had been one of those privately-funded places rich people supported in order to get praised by the media. And in addition to the handwritten sign on the door that said there was no space available, there was another notice above the door. A white rectangle of metal with two-foot high red lettering.
    No Enhanced Allowed .
    A big part of me wanted to march over to the front door, rip it off the hinges, find a spot for my stuff, and dare anyone to try to move me out. Of course, they’d probably just call the EAPF and I’d be spending my evening as a guest at The Shack. Right before they stamped ‘REVOKED’ on my parole file and shipped me back to prison. Definitely not worth the trouble just to make a point.
    I sighed and headed further into the more run-down part of the city. Here the gang signs were fewer and the vehicles abandoned beside the cracked sidewalk had long been stripped of anything of value. There was a factory at the end of the street, half of which had collapsed years ago into a jagged pile of brick, pipe, and rebar. The other half of the building seemed relatively intact and there were pieces of plywood tacked up over most of the missing windows.
    As I got nearer, a man and a woman came out of the side entrance, each