I glanced around nervously expecting something to happen, but after a few minutes nothing had happened as far as I could tell. Feeling tense I decided to go for a walk to clear my head and take my mind off of things. I left home and set off down the street, wandering with no place in particular in mind.
After a few minutes, a van pulled up ahead of me and two men got out wearing what looked like animal control uniforms but instead of it saying ‘Animal Control’ on the back of their jackets they were emblazoned with ‘RCCO’. As I approached I watched curiously, wondering what this was about and to my suprise they turned to face me and walked towards me. I tried to step aside to let them pass but one held up his hand to stop me and asked “Jon Gibson?”
“Err, yes,” I replied cautiously. Was this the interesting thing? “Who’s asking?”
“We’re Collection Officers for the Repurposing Centre, would you come with us please?”
“Err, I’m not sure I want to do that,” I answered, taking a step back.
“I’m afraid this is non-optional,” grunted the other guy.
“If you don’t come willingly, we’ll be forced to use more extreme measures,” commented the first.
“Last I checked this is a free country so I don’t see why I have to do what you say.”
The two of them looked at each other with a sigh and before I could react, one produced a cattle prod and jammed it into my chest. I saw stars and my limbs spasmed erratically. If it weren’t for the two of them catching me I’d have face planted into the pavement. They grabbed me under the arms and manhandled me into the back of the van, slamming shut the door to a cage. Groaning I lay there as the engine started up and the van moved off.
