Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chp.1
Chp.2
Chp.3
Chp.4
Chp.5
Chp.6
Chp.7
Chp.8
Chp.9
Chp.10
Chp.11
Chp.12
Chp.13
Chp.14
Chp.15
Chp.16
Chp.17
Chp.18
Chp.19
Chp.20
Chp.21
Chp.22
Chp.23
Chp.24
Chp.25
Chp.26
Chp.27
Chp.28
Chp.29
Chp.30
Chp.31
Chp.32
Chp.33
Chp.34
Epilogue
Authors Note
Super Sales
On
Super Heroes
By William D. Arand
Copyright © 2017 William D. Arand
Cover design © 2017 William D. Arand
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means - except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews - without written permission from its publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright © 2017 William D. Arand
All rights reserved.
Dedicated:
To my wife, Kristin, who encouraged me in all things.
To my son, Harrison, who now lets me sleep, but wants to help me “type type” on my keyboard.
To my family, who always told me I could write a book if I sat down and tried. I’ve now written five.
Special Thanks to:
Niusha Gutierrez
Caleb Shortcliffe
Austin Youngblood
Thanks to my Beta Readers:
Alston Sleet
Cory Grimes
Dominic Harney
Ezben Gerardo
Florian Cadwe
Keegan Hall
Robert Magdaleno
Tim Burago
I appreciate you reading through an unedited nightmare
Chapter 1 - Not So Black Market -
Felix couldn’t keep himself still. He practically gyrated with nervous energy. He jumped at every noise in the alley. From a mouse scratching at cardboard to a streetlamp that started to buzz.
This is a bad idea. Stupid idea. Trying to buy something from the black market.
Well. The not-so-black market anymore. What exactly do you call a black market when a supervillain runs your city?
He very nearly shouted in alarm when the garage door behind him opened abruptly, the chain rattling as it moved.
A black man in a dark brown trench coat was waiting for him on the inside.
He looked about Felix’s age.
Well, maybe not. He’s a bit younger? Maybe like five years younger? Call it twenty-five?
He looked like any number of people you’d pass on the street and never give a second glance to. He might just barely hit six foot, or so Felix thought, measuring him against the frame of the garage door.
The man’s posture was relaxed, his hands in his pockets, watching Felix with a partial frown.
“You’re a little early there, Felix,” the man said in a smooth baritone. “It is Felix, right?”
“Yeah! Felix, Felix Campbell. Pleasure to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.
The man stared back at him, his eyes flicking from Felix’s hand and back to his face.
“I, uh, I came early with the van,” he said, gesturing to the unmarked vehicle next to him.”
“So I noticed.”
“I didn’t want to be late. I can’t stand being late. Though I think coming early didn’t do me any favors for my nerves, sorry,” Felix apologized lamely.
The man smirked at that and then chuckled softly. “Yeah, I hear that. I wouldn’t want to stand around in this alley much longer either. Snidely’s come prowlin’ often enough. Come on.”
“Snidely?” Felix asked, stepping quickly to catch up to the man.
Felix was by no means a short man, but nor was he tall. Sitting at an unimpressive five foot eight, he was as average as you could be.
The clack of the man’s polished shoes echoed dully. Realizing how immaculately dressed the man was, Felix felt like a slob in his work uniform, minus nametag.
“Snidely? Snidely Whiplash? You know, villain? Great ‘stache? Dorights and Snidelys? Never mind.” The man shook his head.
“Sorry. I don’t watch TV. What channel is it on?” Felix asked. Then he shook his head. He had to get this done and get it done right. He needed this. “Actually. Forget that. What do I call you?”
“You don’t,” said the man, stepping up to a rectangular wooden crate. On top of that crate was a black box and a sheet of white paper. “I call you.”
Felix took a breath and then pulled out a wad of money from his pocket. This deal had cost him two thousand. What little he had left after that was in his hand in a roll, amounting up to three hundred dollars.
All that he had till his next paycheck.
“Then maybe you can call me when you get similar merchandise in the future.”
Damn, that sounded good! At least I think it did.
The man tilted his head to one side and then smiled widely at Felix, showing a set of bright white teeth. Taking the money from Felix’s hand, he nodded his head, thumbing back the twenties.
“Well alright. I can do that. Call me Marcus, it’ll do for today,” said the man now known as Marcus, putting the wad of money in his pocket. “As for the market, no buyers for this stuff. You’re already paying basement price of what it cost to get it here and out of where it was with only a slim margin for us. So I’ll keep you in mind, but no promises.”
Marcus turned and picked up the black box and the paper, then handed both to Felix.
“Ownership papers and one owner’s box. We call ‘em Pits. Go ahead and stick your finger in that hole,” Marcus explained, holding out the box.
“Uh, shouldn’t the seller put their finger in first for these?” Felix had heard about them. Apparently, Pits were well regarded for transactions among supers, since they had a magical element to them.
“Not for this purchase. For future purchases, we can just use this Pit again. Now go ahead and get that paw up here…”
Felix lifted his index finger and slipped it into the hole.
He felt the sting before he even thought about what was going to happen.
“All done. You’ll feel that tomorrow,” Marcus said, shaking his head with a grin. Turning his head, Marcus whistled at a forklift that was sitting dormant in the side of the warehouse.
Felix flinched as the vehicle came to life. He hadn’t even noticed it. In fact, he hadn’t even looked around at what he’d walked into.
Way to go, idiot.
Marcus pointed to the van. “You go hop in and wait. We’ll get this loaded up in a second.” The man hesitated for a second, then continued, “You know, I’m glad someone’s buying this. We were considering tossing it into the river, but… that never works out.”
“I should think not. It wouldn’t be as bad as, say, lead, but it’d eventually create some problems with the water,” Felix said, nodding his head.
A big shipment of bismuth really could cause problems. I mean, how do you explain buying a shipment of heavy metal that then ends up in a river?
Marcus looked at him in a strange way at that and then laughed with a wave of his hand. “See you later, Felix. You’re a strange cat.”
Felix wasn’t quite sure what to make of that exchange, but he waved back.
“Later, Marcus.”
Felix hurried off back to the panel van and got in. The forklift operator went about his business and had Felix loaded up in under a minute.
There was a smack on the rear door, and then the garage started sliding shut a second later.
Felix adjusted his mirror, catching a look at himself in the process. He looked pale. Pale as ever. His gray eyes stared back at him. Listless.