Rob and Greg were driving a late model cargo van down the road through the warehouse district of town, the occasional streetlight casting a dim yellow glow across the road.

  “What’s the story on this guy?” Greg asked after taking a final swig from a can of something, before crushing the thing into a ball.

  “He’s a mechanic. He refuses to pay the boss his protection money.” Rob responded, spitting some tobacco juice out the opened driver’s window.

  “Okay. What else do you know?”

  “His name is Jose.”

  “And?”

  “I don’t know. The boss is pissed at him for some reason.”

  “That explains why we’re not in our territory anymore.” Greg observed.

  “We’re not?” Rob perked up at the words, and glared more astutely out the windshield.

  “Yeah. The territory ended on the last block.” Greg confirmed. “We’re in no-mans-land out here.”

  “Shit.”

  “Why shit?” Greg asked, confusion easily read on his face.

  “NML means powers. Powers mean problems. Problems mean heroes.” Rob answered. Eyes checking every shadow.

  “So, the boss just needs to expand, little by little. Eat it up.”

  “You think the boss can beat The Gorilla? Because that’s who has been out here lately.” Rob asked.

  “Which one? The guy in the suit, or the actual gorilla, Gorilla?” Greg asked, with a little bit of worry.

  “Don’t know. Could be either, really. Not our place. You know how it’s supposed to work, we stay out of their way, they leave us alone. Unless you want to join the Union?”

  “Oh, hell no! I don’t need my morning Mocha Latte exploding just after I clock in for work one day. SSP is notorious for that kinda thing. It’s almost like she has it out for unions!” Greg shuddered.

  “Speaking of heroes, did you hear that there was a 404 sighting in the wild yesterday?” Rob asked, trying to change the topic.

  Greg sat up, attention now totally focused on Rob, “Where?!?”

  “Wyoming.” Rob smiled, bait and switch having obviously worked. “He was caught rescuing a family of campers from a coyote pack that was following them. Fire tower caught him on camera screaming down the mountain, into a bootlegger’s reverse. Got the family inside, then ran over the pack on the way to their car, some 15 miles away.”

  Greg grinned, “Huh. Someday that boy is going to get un-lost, and find civilization again.”

  “Yeah, and a beaver is going to crawl out of my ass.” Rob slowed the van, “Here it is.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The pair had come to a stop in front of a single-story garage structure hiding behind a half wall with an old fence on top. A fence that had more holes than structure. One dim overhead light illuminated the front lot, highlighting several beat-up vehicles.

  “This place is more of a dump than I thought it would be.” Rob said, exiting the van. When he closed the door, the rear bumper fell off with a loud clang. “Damnit!”

  The pair walked up the driveway, really just a four-foot patch of blacktop, into the front lot, then up to the door, and knocked.

  -

  Jose watched the two obvious thugs get out of their junker of a van and sighed. “Huh, I wonder who I pissed off this time?” He stood up from his gaming chair, and stepped out of the security room at his shop, and walked the short distance to the front door. When the thugs knocked, he opened it. “I’m sorry gentlemen, we’re closed at the moment, but if you leave your van out front, I can have it repaired by 10 am tomorrow.”

  The thugs looked at each other, then back at Jose, “Um, how much?”

  Jose smiled, “I only charge the downtrodden $50 per hour. For your van, I’ll give you the tune-up special. $75, and it will run like new, full money back guarantee.”

  The thugs looked at each other for a moment, then the one on the left said, “That sounds too good to be true.”

  “It’s NML, I have to keep prices low if I want to keep the doors open.”

  “That’s true, but still…”

  “Look Mr.?” Jose looked at the thug expectantly.

  “Rob. And this is my cohort, Greg.” Rob said.

  “Look Mr. Rob, I know your thugs. I know you’re here to threaten me.” Jose said. “I just don’t know who for, and I don’t care. I’m just a mechanic. I fix stuff. I’m even willing to work for crooks and Villains.”

  “Then why didn’t you pay the boss his protection money?” The thug named Greg blurted out.

  Jose rolled his eyes, “Because I’m in NML. I’m here deliberately. No bosses, no villains, no heroes. No one holds sway here.”

  “Okay. Then why is the boss so pissed at you that he sent us to mess you up?” Rob asked, eyes starting to wander around what he could see of the shop.

  “The boss… Short dude, pompadour, purple suit?” Jose asked, mind starting to work.

  “Royal purple with gold accents.” Greg corrected.

  “Okay, yeah.” Jose remembered the guy. “He was trying to throw his weight around and be impressive, so I declined to fix his limo.”

  “You’re the guy who wouldn’t fix the Purple Tank?” Rob asked, eyes wide. “That’s the boss’ special thing!”

  “He was a jerk. Tried to be threatening.” Jose shrugged. “Power-Man is more threatening, and I didn’t fix his suit either.”

  Greg went slack jawed, “Wait, you stood up to power-Man?!?”

  “Yeah. He broke my arm in three places.” Jose rolled up his sleeve to reveal the surgery scars from the incident, and shuddered at the memory. “I still have a plate in my arm from that.”

  Rob nodded, “So us threatening to beat you up really isn’t going to do much, huh?”

  “Nope.”

  Rob and Greg nodded to each other, then Rob pulled out an old billfold and removed a $100 bill. “Here ya go, please fix the van. And keep the change as an apology for disturbing you after hours.”

  “Thank you kindly!” Jose smiled at the two thugs. “I’ll give it some TLC for you.”

  -

  Rob and Greg caught the lone city bus across the street from the mechanics garage after they had parked the van in Jose’s shop and shared a beer. The ride back to the boss’ warehouse was uneventful, aside from a short conversation…

  “Hey Rob?”

  “What Greg.”

  “Why can’t we work for a guy like that, as opposed to the boss? He seems like a stand-up guy.”

  “He works in the NML. There’s no way normal people like us could do it.”

  “It didn’t seem that bad.”

  “Did you see the equipment in that shop?”

  Greg nodded, “Yeah. Everything you need to be a mechanic. There was a lift, a tire machine, a break lathe, air compressor, and several tool carts.”

  Rob nodded, “Did you look at the power cords?”

  “…”

  Rob nodded again, “The break and tire machines were all that was plugged in. Nothing else. If he was just a tire shop, that would make sense, but the sign claimed it was a full-service shop. Also, the parts shelves? Almost empty.”

  Greg swallowed, “There’s no way he could do business like that.”

  Rob nodded, “He’s a Powered. There’s no other explanation that fits.”

  “Maybe he’d hire us on as mechanics?” Greg tried.

  “That would mean Union membership.” Rob replied.

  Greg swallowed again. “Yeah, no.”