Shakar blinked, “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said we’re getting our asses arrested!” Mr. Holdover whispered back through gritted teeth. “Those homeless fuckers played us!”

  Shakar could feel himself becoming anxious with the thought settling in his head. ‘If that’s the case…was Big John working with the Groundhogs who were suspicious of me? Did they know I followed them to that mysterious scream last night and now they’re getting rid of—no, let’s take this one step at a time.’

  “Let’s to rush to conclusions,” he said, shaking off the shivering in his spine. He looked to one of the three nearby officers, “Excuse me sir? Where’s this van going after the precinct?”

  The man gave him a glare, flaring his nostrils. “Just stay quiet and enjoy the ride.”

  With a smile, Shakar looked ahead again. Mr. Holdover eyed him, “So? Your analysis?”

  “I think we’re getting arrested.”

  The van was quiet. Everyone inside sat in silence, as if they were content with their fate. Everyone except Mr. Holdover.

  “HELL NO!” He yelled, shooting to his feet. “NOT TODAY, NOT TOMORROW, NOT EVER! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!”

  “Sit down now!” The officer yelled. He and the other two ran over to restrain Mr. Holdover—which was proving difficult.

  “HEY, KUFI!” Mr. Holdover yelled at Shakar, “Do the thing!”

  Shakar looked blank, “What thing?”

  “The THING in your—uh—hot-POCKET.” He said, trying to give a crazed wink while struggling with the officers, “Remember, the GREEN THING?”

  Shakar could feel the green pass in his pocket, but he had no urge to take it.

  “That ‘thing’ is in my other pants,” He said.

  “BULLSHIT I SAW YOU PLAYING WITH IT EARLIER!”

  Everyone on board exchanged confused glances. The police began to look disturbed. Shakar continued to sit, his eyes avoiding the man’s. Mr. Holdover’s neck began to crane.

  “WHAT”RE YOU DOING DUMBASS?!” he boomed, “DO THE THING!”

  “It won’t do you any goo—”

  “DO IT ANYWAYS!”

  Shakar put his head down.

  “DO THE THING!!”

  “You’re right,” one of the officers said, “We should do something!” He took out a syringe from a metal tube in his pocket and aimed it at Mr. Holdover, “Alright,” he said, “Hold him still—”

  ‘WHAM!’

  The bearded homeless man lurched off his seat and slammed the officer into the other side of the bench where the occupants began kicking him, one even leaped on top of his back. The other officer’s rushed to help, but a homeless woman jumped from her seat and bit the cop’s ear, tearing it off. He screamed as another kicked him in the groin. The freckled cop roared and tried to swat them away, but the space was too camped for him to move his arms well and found himself fighting through bodies of homeless. The rest of the van followed suit, quickly overwhelming the officers.

  “Grab the needle!” one yelled.

  “Where’d it go?!” Another asked.

  The bearded man stood up, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he yelled. He spun around and jabbed it into the officer on the ground’s thigh. He howled in pain, his body shivering, foam filling his mouth as his head fell back, hitting the floor with a ‘thud’. Shakar had to duck his head as a homeless man was slammed above him, blood bursting from the sides of his mouth. He could feel people being shoved into him while the van erupted. He gripped his seat the best he could to avoid being swallowed by the mass in the center. Mr. Holdover laughed and kicked an officer into one of the grip bars, denting it.

  “THAT’S WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT!” he said, “THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED!”

  The radio crackled on again.

  “K-KRTKRT! Squad twelve is there going to be an issue back there? Over.”

  “No,” The officer in the hat growled, watching one of his men stumble back beside him holding his missing pinky finger. The homeless woman smirked, spitting something from her mouth. The officer squeezed his radio and growled into it. “We’ve got it all under control. Over.”

  He put his radio away and eyed the chaos in the van.

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  “That’s it!” he yelled. He reached behind him and pulled out a black baton, blue sparks cracked from its spiked tip. He jabbed it into the bearded man’s neck, who grunted, struggling to stay up before falling to the ground. He then smacked it over the woman’s neck, holding it there as she cried out and was thrown hard into the bench. He turned to this fellow Blue Collars. “MEN, SHOCK THERAPY, NOW!”

  To Shakar’s alarm, the rest of the officers all took out their own batons and immediately started wailing on the homeless. One of the ones sitting across from him screamed and put their hands up, only for the cop to electrify their face anyways. Shakar saw him slump to his side, his face charred. The rest of the homeless cried out and fell back to their seats, yet they were still tased, the van quickly filling with the fumes of cooked flesh. Mr. Holdover went for the door but a baton was jabbed to his back, the man cursed and was thrown back to his seat, hitting his head hard. Shakar winced, trying to remain to himself. The officer in the tall hat eyed him and walked over.

  “Hey, what was that guy talking to you about?”

  “I don’t know him.”

  He scoffed, smacking his electrified baton against his gloved hand, “Well, you may be telling the truth, but we can’t be so certain, eh?”

  The van abruptly lurched to a stop. The radio tuned on once more.

  “K-KRT! We’ve reached our destination. Squad twelve prepare for prisoner extraction, over.”

  The doors flung open and two shadows loomed into the van. Shakar peered over, his eyes gaped open. He saw a young man and woman standing there. Unlike the cops, they wore white shirts under their Collars. He immediately averted his eyes to the floor. ‘Their ties are a dark blue, akin to the higher ranked officers,’ he thought. ‘But their uniforms don’t match at all. They aren’t ordinary Blues.’

  “Well?” the brown haired woman said, hands on her hips. “Bring them out already!”

  “There was a mishap, ma’am,” the officer in the hat said, “There was a fight—”

  “My guy, drag them if you have to,” the man with braids said, “We ain’t gonna wait all night for you.”

  “Yes—sorry!” he nodded. The officer glanced at the freckled Blue Collar, who did his best to drag the bearded man out of the van, revealing the unconscious officer from under him. The woman rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

  “For Christ-sake are you guys that incompetent?” she threw her arms to the side, “Really? Is every cop’s weakness in this city some random-ass homeless person?!”

  “We told you,” The other officer said, still dragging the bearded man out, “We didn’t expect such resistance—”

  “Alright, outta the way, bro.” the young man said climbing in. Grabbed the bearded man with one arm and tossed him out to his partner, who landed on a large pile of gum. Shakar could hear his footsteps drawing closer, and closer to him. His eye shot to his left to see Mr. Holdover was still knocked out, and then up as the man approached his field of view.

  ‘Should I?’ he thought. His fingers twitched at the thought of his Kufi but he stopped. ‘No, don’t be rash. I need an idea of their Talent first before proceeding.’

  The Darker Collared man walked past him. He tossed the unconscious cop over his shoulder and looked at the other two.

  “Fill this van with Blues before you go,” He said, “You hear me?”

  “Y-yes sir!” the cops stammered.

  The younger man turned around, “Ready, Wollfe?” he asked.

  “Heh,” she replied, stroking her lips with her tongue. “I was in the mood for something sweet.”

  He slightly smirked and flicked his wrist.

  ‘WHIP!’

  A homeless man cried out as a chain suddenly appeared around his throat. He pulled back, squeezing until the choking man gargled, falling unconscious. He retracted the single chain and threw him outside where he landed in a pit of bubble gum causing him to cry out in pain even more. The other homeless panicked and tried to get up, only to be choked themselves. To their alarm, they found chains around their necks with the Collared man holding his other arm up, pointing at them.

  “Wait your turn,” he said, “Unless you wanna end up collateral.”

  Shakar watched the man start to yank each of them out one by one with a tug, then a yank. They screamed, then, louder as they hit the gum outside. It was then when Shakar then felt a slight tug and looked down.

  There was a chain on his neck.

  ‘That’s not right,’ he thought. ‘When did he…?’

  The man began to walk out, nearly stepping out of the van before glancing over his shoulder in Shakar’s direction one last time.

  “Yo,” he said.

  Shakar’s eyes shot open, doing his best to stay silent.

  “Hey!” he barked, “I’m talking to you!”

  ‘Looks like I’m at the end of my rope…’ a voice spoke through his gut. He could feel his fingers twitch, ever so slowly beginning to slide out of his pockets, ‘If I’m not fast enough, he’ll break my neck before—’

  “Y-yes?” the Blue Collared officer replied.

  “Is that everyone on the list?” he asked.

  The officer fumbled with a tablet in his hands, quickly skimming up and down. He looked at the young man and nodded quickly.

  “Then the hell you waiting for?” he said. The chains left Shakar, the young man flicking them back up his sleeve. “Get this van filled now.”

  “Y-yes sir! My mistake!” he fumbled for his radio. “We need a squad for the trip outside state. Preferably Bodily. Over.”

  Shaking his head, he joined the woman, who now had all the homeless suspended in a giant ball of bubble gum midair, connected from a single hair-thin strand from her mouth. Shakar watched the two turn and leave, the bubble dwarfing the van even from a distance. The door slammed, in which he realized how quiet it was now. There were only a handful of people left from what was once nearly two dozen.

  ‘They took almost everyone,’ he thought, ‘all for some sort of list…’ He gasped, ‘Mr. Holdover!’

  He snapped his head to his left to see the older man still sitting there, head down and arms folded. The two officers went outside to talk, slamming the door behind them. Seeing that, he kicked his leg, “Sir, now’s a really good time to wake up!” he said.

  The man didn’t move.

  “We don’t have much time before they come back!” he said glancing at the door again, “I don’t think those Blues that came in were normal—”

  “Keep your voice down, I’m awake.” He said.

  Shakar’s brow creased, “Since when?”

  “That taser never took me out but I thought they’d be less suspicious if I played along anyways.”

  Shakar felt his body relax, “Oh.”

  “Also, fuck you.”

  “For what?

  “I’ll explain later, they’re coming back in.”

  The door opened, two larger men stepped inside accompanied by four normal sized men in extra body armor. They all took seats in-between each of the occupants inside. The officer in the hat smiled reassuringly, pulling out his radio. “We’re ready for our final destination, over.”

  “K-KRTKRT! Thank you squad twelve. We will now proceed to our final destination, over.”

  The engine roared to life and the van sped off at full throttle, flashing its siren to an open road.