Read Fog Bastards 1 Intention for Free Online Page A

pilot, life is a checklist. Do steps 1 through 42 before getting on the plane. We can do them in our sleep. By the time I'm sitting in my seat, my head is clear enough. By the time we're cleared and settled at 33,000 feet, I've thrown off almost all the baggage. It'll be back, I'm sure, but the air, the clouds, the sun have conspired with me. And, I have no sensation of having a light somewhere down inside me.
     
     
Captain Amos was my teacher. I wonder if he can still play the part, so I ask him a question.
     
     
"Hypothetically, if you woke up tomorrow and were Superman, what would you do?"
     
     
He looks at me quizzically. "You had to say ‘hypothetically' with that question? Do you think it might really happen to me?"
     
     
"You know what I mean. Guys in the comic books get bit by a spider one day, and they're saving the world the next. What do you think it would really be like?"
     
     
He scratched his chin, which for the first time I had ever seen, he had not shaved. Maybe the flight attendant paid him a visit last night too. I have a sudden mental image of that which I do not find pleasant.
     
     
"Do you really think any of those secret identities would last more than a week before people figured out who you were? How do they make a uniform that doesn't get ripped to shreds every five seconds? And that strong, how would they not hurt or kill anyone they went after? I don't see how it could possibly work. I'd probably do my best to keep it a secret, help out where I could, try not to wreck the city to save a cat."
     
     
Secret identity. Spandex. Things I hadn't considered. I'm not wearing spandex. Uniform? Should I buy a pair of glasses to wear? Then I decide to try an experiment. There's a steel handle to my right used to steer the landing gear on the ground. It's a circle of metal, open in the middle for your fingers. I put my hand around the outside and squeeze as hard as I can. Nothing. Doesn't even move a millimeter. I am no stronger than I was yesterday. Maybe the whole thing was a test, and I failed or passed or whatever. I'm suddenly happier than I've been in days.
     
     
I'm in love with the approach controller who clears us to descend, and then direct Santa Monica, even though he's a he. I don't mind the bumps we're getting from the Santa Ana winds. I think the tower controller is the coolest ever, even when she gives me 2-5 left clearance and our gate is on the other side of the airport. I no longer am bothered by the potholes that LA County won't patch on the runway. The 1970s carpet in the terminal looks great.
     
     
I pat Starbuck's steering wheel, and sing country songs all the way to Jen's apartment in Costa Mesa. Half hour later I'm inside her, our hands locked together over her head, she begging me to fuck her harder, and me doing my damnedest to comply. Half hour after that, she's riding me until I can't take any more. Half hour after that we're both blissfully, and dreamlessly, asleep.
     
     
     
     

Chapter 4
     
     
Sunday morning I'm up and ready to go (in more ways than one). Jen crawls out of bed, grabs her gym bag, grabs my gym clothes from the drawer and throws them at me. I get the hint, and soon we're at the gym sharing side by side treadmills. It is exactly what I need. I run and run and run until I can run no more. Jen's already over working the weights, and I join her for a little while there too.
     
     
I'm getting a weird vibe from the co-pilot's seat as I pilot Starbuck toward my place so I can change before going over to the parents'. I pull my pants off to hit the shower and she's there, taking me in her mouth, finishing me off while I lean against the wall. I help her up, and we jump into the shower to clean each other.
     
     
Halloween is waiting when we pull back the shower curtain to get out of the tub, and she follows me around until it's time to go. I tell her I'll be back to spend the night, but I'm not sure she believes me.
     
     
Starbuck gets us to