They Tell Me I'm The Bad Guy Read Online Free PDF

of an apartment and buy a house," I answered, thinking about one of the limp body bags paramedics had carried out of the Liberty Bell Motel on the news. "I'd like to take part in the Leadership Program the home office offers for managers, and maybe go back to school and get a degree."
    Chuck nodded. "Always good to hear. What degree would you pursue?"
    Jesus, I felt like I was going to come out of my skin. "A business degree. Like business management."
    Chuck's large head went down. He scrawled notes with his free company pen.
    After Will told me he would smear my ass on the pavement if I kept accusing him of shit, I had used my phone to get online and hit up the Post-Human Database website. Turned out 'Kamikaze' had an entry and was wanted for a couple of armed robberies in Washington State. No fatalities; he had shoved a gun in a guy's face but never pulled the trigger. And all he could do according to the information people had put on the page was fly. The kid was a piss-ant nobody who had no fucking business employing a psychic for that centipede trick and threatening a guy like me.
    "And where in the company would you see yourself using that degree, Don?"
"In management. In shipping management."
    "We don't have many openings there. Just to let you know, those positions typically only come open when someone retires." Chuck sounded like he really didn't give a shit.
    "Okay," I nodded.
    The Database had come up with forty-nine confirmed and ninety-seven possible/rumored matches for 'telepath.' Just in the United States. That was a lot of people who could fuck with my mind with that whole bug thing. The ones I checked didn't seem to have any connection with Kamikaze, either. They were all women, too, which was pretty typical. Psychic stuff and being able to do stuff with the mind turned up mostly in women; guys mostly got the physical powers, strength and all that. I caught a lot of shit back in the day for having what was pretty much a mind power.
    Chuck flipped to another of the three pieces of paper before him. "Well, Don, I'll be honest, your production levels are just above the minimum we're looking for. As you know, we've always got an eye on that cycle time, so my question is, do you think you would be able to inspire others to meet and exceed their production goals to make that happen?"
    "Yes, sir. My numbers, well, my numbers are getting thrown off because I've just become used to the job. I've been doing it for four years now and it's getting to where I feel like I need something different. I need a new challenge, and I want to take on a bigger role in the company."
    "So compared to someone with higher numbers, what makes you the more qualified candidate for the position? What would be the benefit of hiring you over them?"
    Fuck. You. Chuck.
    Before I had given up on the Datab ase, I had typed in 'Das Biest von Feure .' The same one paragraph entry that had been on there for years still came up: Ability to manipulate molecular activity to create heat and self-sustaining fires. Real Name: Unknown. Date of Birth: Unknown. Country of Origin: Unknown. (Rumored to be Germany, Netherlands). Height: approx. 6'. Weight: Unknown. Eye Color: Unknown. Group Affiliations: The Chaotishe Sechs. Last seen during the Second London Blitz. Presumed dead.
    Thank God.
    While Chuck eyed me, my eyes searched around the room for an answer longer than they should have. My brain went to wondering if someone had gotten me on camera being carried to the top of the Sudiak. "I think that I bring a better attitude to the position. I get along with everyone very well; I know how to talk to them and they know I'm a stand-up guy."
    "And that translates to you being a better supervisor?" Chuck said dickishly.
    "I think the . . . it, it makes me better suited to be a leader because I'm willing to listen to them and put myself out there for them. That, I think, inspires people to do better."
    Chuck made another note on his pad. He leaned back in his