Fog Bastards 1 Intention Read Online Free

only wish for death."
     
     
Now I'm even more terrified. The choices are death or wish for it? What the fuck? How about guess the right price before the yodeling dude gets to the top of the mountain and falls off? Chose dead or worse than dead? Jesus.
     
     
"Our offer is simple. We will make you the most powerful person on earth. The most powerful human to ever walk the planet. You can change the course of history. End wars. Free the oppressed. Feed the hungry. Do that which you wish and go where you will."
     
     
"Used wisely, your power will save thousands, perhaps millions of lives, and improve the lot of millions more. You can make the planet a better place for countless future generations. But there is a price. No human can hold this power. In no more than three years it will consume you. You will give your life for the millions you save."
     
     
Fuck me.
     
     
"I will not accept an answer tonight. You will see me again, and I will answer whatever questions I can. Then you will chose. Good night, Simon Packer."
     
     
The fog swirls around him, and he is gone. The swirls continue, forming a whirlpool of fog, speeding past at eye threatening speed. I am in the eye of the hurricane, which grows as I watch, revealing the path in front of me. It looks like any fantasy movie path, red clay colored, surrounded by the evil grass, curving over and around a hilly countryside. Then it gets even more cliche: the fog is gone, and I see the path ends in a solitary white light. I can feel the power of the light, even at this distance. I expect a very short woman to appear, begging me to go into it. She doesn't, but I still want to. Instead, I wake up.
     
     
I'm dripping in sweat and the sheets are a mess. I feel as though my head touched the pillow five minutes ago, but it's 9 a.m. according to the room clock. I have to be at the airport in two hours. I fall out of bed, stumble into the bathroom, and get into the hottest shower I can stand. I spend forever in it, trying desperately to scrub off last night and failing. Interestingly, my knee and hands are completely healed. No sign of yesterday's carnage.
     
     
It's 10 by the time I'm dressed and headed down to get some breakfast. I go for orange juice, a scrambled egg, and a couple slices of wheat toast. Back upstairs, brush my teeth, grab my bag, and get back down in time to catch the shuttle out to Keahole.
     
     
No dispatcher here, we only put three aircraft on the ground every day, so the flight plan is sent by courier from Oahu. Matt is already there, going through it, I try my damnedest to get my head screwed on straight as we talk it over. It's a good thing Matt is doing the flying on the way home because I'm fuckin useless. How can I be so sure that a dream is real? With a wild story like that? But I am.
     
     
We roll down the runway and into the sky, no giant dudes in cloaks this time. Uneventful doesn't even begin to describe the flight, nothing to distract me from meaningless random panic. Matt spends as much time as he can talking to his snorkeling partner and leaves me alone. I wonder if she knows he has Ms. Mankat's phone number in his wallet.
     
     
We land and taxi to gate 75 this time, since our aircraft is going on to Denver, not back to paradise. The new crew is waiting at the top of the jetway, so I tell Matt he can leave with his friend and I will take care of the transition. He seems happy with that, but I bet the flight report he files will not be complementary.
     
     
I don't care. The new captain is sitting next to me, his first officer behind, while I go over the checklist for crew changes with them. Everything is as it should be. Everything but me, that is. I'm dead, or worse.
     
     
I walk into one old lady and run some businessman over with my bag trying to leave the gate area. I am out of apologies before I can get to the men's room. I stop, gather myself, and grab a couple tacos at the little stand across from our gate, trying to