Chapter 98 - Road Trip

Sam startled awake at the sound of a door slamming. Her corona spread out as she sat up on the recliner. Heart beating, she verified that the door was still blocked. The door had belonged to another apartment; no one was walking in on them while they squatted.

She leaned over to slap a comatose Jess on the temple. "You hungry?"

"Ow, stop that. Yes, I am hungry. Not enough to sit down with evangelists again. Seriously, why are there still religious people after the stars changed and humans showed up speaking English? How much proof do people need of the simulation theory before they stop with all the praying?"

Sam moved the desk away from its spot barricading the door. "The more open-minded people ditched church when things started getting all sci-fi. Only the true believers are left."

"And they're living their lives in an echo chamber," Jess said.

"Isn't that what we all try to do? Hang out with people who agree with us?"

"Point taken. I did agree with you about being hungry. Juice me up with some precursor."

Sam provided the requested charge, straightened up the room, and they flew down to the street level. Within minutes, Jess had found a small restaurant with limited outdoor seating. "There we are. Eat out here and disappear before the bill comes."

"So we can screw over a small business owner? Or worse, the waitress. Nope."

Jess rolled her eyes. "So you're a champion of the little people now? Or just until you remember that your dad owns a shopping mall?"

"My mom was a bartender before she met my dad."

"So a long time before you were born, one of your parents worked for a living prior to marrying up."

"Shopping malls are dying, Jess. My dad might be able to coast for the rest of his life, but I'll have to be a working woman."

"Malls can't be doing that bad. You guys bought a Tesla last year."

"In case you hadn't noticed from all the screaming matches my parents have, my dad sends money out without the slightest consideration for how fast it comes in. Trust me, you're going to inherit more than me. Two Sacramento software engineers with retirement accounts will leave behind an actual legacy."

"Don't forget a quaint bed and breakfast business in wine country," Jess said. "Anyway, I think a small business owner can afford to give away two free meals."

"I don't want to steal anything. I can sell enough precursor to buy two breakfast sandwiches."

"And coffee," Jess said.

"Sure."

"And maybe we could borrow a phone to call home?"

"Not yet. If you called home, then I would have to call home, and I'm not ready to have that conversation yet."

"You are ridiculous. I bet you parents still don't know you were failing out of college before you left."

"What am I supposed to say, Jess? 'Hey, guys, I'm flunking out of the biology program at a community college. I think I might try business instead.' No thank you."

"Well, now you have superpowers. They can't criticize that."

"Give me another day of peace. Please."

Jess pointed at a McDonald's. "It will cost you a McMuffin and a coffee."

There was a line of people out the door. Sam cleared her throat. "Could you be the saleswoman?"

"Seriously?"

"You like talking with strangers."

Jess huffed away from Sam but was almost immediately chatting to two asian guys sporting backwards baseball caps, gold chains, and fitted t-shirts. Had Sam not known better, she would have thought Jess ran into old friends. She crept forward until she could hear what was being said.

"I am a hundred percent serious right now. We're the flying chicks. We came out to help with the New York stuff, but by the time we got here, our boss was already gone. Dumb us, we didn't bring our purses in the big rush and now we don't have any money to buy breakfast. That's why we're making a one time deal. Twenty dollars gets you temporary superpowers. It will only last about ten minutes, but it is awesome, guys."

The skinnier of the two snickered at the proposition. "Right, sure. We believe you."

Sam extended her corona and pulled the man's hand into the air against his instinctive resistance. His jaw dropped. "Twenty dollars?"