Simon happily shook the hands of the customers, picked up the box with his new rodent friends in it and returned to his van. Turning the keys of the ignition the radio instantly popped on.
"-now to those of you just tuning it, welcome to 104.5! Calder Cities most popular, and only, talk radio station! Remember to turn those dials to 104.5, or simply ask your smart-speaker to tune to CCT-Radioooo." Handbrake off, vehicle in drive. He merged effortlessly with the traffic, hands navigating the wheels by instinct more than any concious effort to control the vehicle. He knew where he was going, and could likely make this trip from anywhere in the city without looking at a map or a street sign even once.
The sound of the city, helped guide and push him. It wasn't echo location, and he couldn't fully describe the sensation but certain parts of the city just seemed to excude certain frequencies. So he followed the trail of the dull thud and the ebb and flow rhythm of the docks.
"-I have to say for the first time since as far as I have known it really feels like the city is on the precipice of something major. We've become used too, and dare I say desensitized to the daily comings and goings off these heroes and villains as they tear their way through the city, used to cars brandishing the Vanguard emblem just driving down the street-"Simon noticed a strange sound as he turned down Douglas Avenue through Lower East Calder. It was a strange buzzing that he wasn't used too, he could feel it in his head. Foot slightly heavier on the accelerator he pulled away from it, until moments later it caught up with him again. Frowning he looked in the rear view mirror, but, nothing out of the ordinary. Taxis, commuters, small trucks delivering goods to businesses. Various vans, many of them much like his own.
"It is not just "edgy" or "rebellious." It is a direct incitement to violence. In what world is it acceptable to market a track that explicitly encourages teenagers to harm their parents? We are living in a society that is falling apart at the seams, and this DJ Wretched Rat is actively pouring gasoline on the fire for a few streams on TockBox and SnapShot."Something caught his eye, a large black van. Had that been behind him before? He felt like he had seen that logo for most of the morning, had he seen it before? It was a circle with a graphic of a man inside it with his hands in the air. It wasn't a company he recognised, nor saw all over the city. Though he was sure it was a coincidence that he was noticing it now, just stuck inside his head there was nothing to worry about.
"Yeah, so like, I was, like, talking to this friend of me, and he, like, totally said that his, uh, girlfriend or whatever, like..." No, had that van just made this turn? Was it the same one as before or were there multiple?
Shaken out of his reverie as he approached the docks, he ignored the buzzing in the back of his head and instead focused on the box ont he seat beside him. This was his favourite part of the job, Simons dad and all his coworkers killed the rats, rodents and other so-called 'pests' that they found. Simon however, he called to them. He captured them and he moved them to somewhere safe, somewhere where they wouldn't get into any trouble. As he approached the spot in the docks he always went too, an old abandoned warehouse with a public park out the back he slowed as the buzzing got louder. A second van already sat at the spot where he was going, but before he could reverse out the lane the van from before shot in behind him.
None of you are young enough to remember, but I do. This happened before, back in '45, when the Equaliser-" The radio cut out at the same time the engine did.
This had to be a misunderstanding, right? Yeah, he told himself. These were likely either contracters or the new owners of the facility, probably had cameras set up and had seen him coming. Didn't want him releasing more pests here, that made sense. That was probably it. Stepping out of the vehicle, his heart-rate quickened as he saw a group of three men exit the truck behind him. They were all wearing black BDUs, dark sunglasses covering their eyes. The leader held some form of baton in his direction. He spat before he spoke, his voice coming out as a growl. Simon couldn't see his eyes, but he could feel the malice in them as his foosteps thundered closer.
"Just you stop right there. Freak."
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