Throughout the world, Power Uppers are the hottest drug on the market. A single pill allows any Normie to obtain the power of a Super. The drawback? They're also highly addicting and the cause of most financial ruin.
Tayla wants nothing to do with s...
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Max tapped a hand against his handle bar, watching a PC guard speak with a citizen. Though the distribution centers weren't as heavily fortified as the Pharmaceutical Companies headquarters, the PC's still had guards armed like soldiers ready for war. Camera's, spotlights, and more automatic weapons than one could count were at the mercy of each trigger finger happy guard. Breaking into a distribution center was a lot like going to war—it was just as stupid and just as deadly. He brushed a knuckle against the scar on his face. As usual, he didn't feel it. Max couldn't remember the last time he felt anything on the right side of his face, but he still found himself touching it often when he was nervous.
And nervous he was.
It wasn't because he was about to break into a building owned by the PC's and holding the not yet released Power Upper Mylar wanted, it was because either his brothers or his father could easily be inside. For many years his family worked close with distributing PU's to the underbelly of old downtown. It was through them the addicts kept their stashes and they enjoyed punishing those who didn't pay, even without the PC's request for punishment.
Max sighed and slid off his bike. One hand pulled his hoodie over his head as he jogged across the street to the gates.
"Halt," the guard said. "Identification please."
Max touched a hand to the guards arm, his power was stronger if he could touch his victim. "'ello, I'm Jeffrey Gallen and I'm 'ear to pick up a shipment." He knew his accent was a poor representation of the Corporate British Isles, but he also knew few in Eden City had ever met someone from the CBI's. "My notice said me parcel was 'eld and to come pick it up."
"Can I see this notice, Sir?"
Max sighed. Of course they'd ask to see the notice. He pat the pockets of his hoodie and jeans. One hand pulled out a stick of gum from his back pocket. Max tossed the gum in his mouth, continuing to brush the guards arm with his free hand, before handing the wrapper to the man. Energy spiraled out of his fingertips, pulsating into the man. If he was another telekinetic, the powers would've shocked Max the second he touched. However that didn't mean the man wouldn't somehow be resistant to the seduction of Max's thoughts. There were a few Normies Max encountered over the years who were impervious to his gifts. Until he waived Max through, nothing was certain.
The guard stared at the wrinkled faux-metallic wrap. One finger tapped against the back, his eyes twitching.
Come on, see the damn notice. It says clear as day, pick up at Distribution Center, New Downtown Number Five, Max thought, Even has a signature from El Presidente himself, Dr. Turnlen. Look at the shiny seal.
"Very well. Go to pick up and sign there," the guard said, handing the paper back to Max.
He resisted releasing his breath until he was clear of the guard and stepping through the golden beam of the electric gate. Max glanced back as the guard greeted the next person waiting in line. His telepathic suggestion wouldn't last long without the touch, but that wasn't going to be his concern after that point. Upon exit he'd simply touch the guard again and reinstate the suggestion. No. The problem was inside with the amount of employees, guards, potential Recruiters wandering the halls. He had to make them believe he belonged anywhere he went, without being able to touch them all.
