Chapter 3-Patrol Time
From the briefing room I head down into the basement to rendezvous with my weapons and sign out for a vehicle. Rows of converted 'Hilux' 4x4's greet me in the basement, all heavy weaponry and armour. They are incredible to drive and go some way to making you feel safe.
Then I feel the vibration of a text message, it is from Myra:
'LOVE U BABES, COME HOME SAFELY XXXX'
I had told her about what happened to Madsen and since then she had been panicky about my continuing in this job.
'Don't worry Myra, I will be fine' I told her.
I cradle my CR-21 assault rifle as the armourer hands it over and I also get a handgun too for 'self protection'
'You ready champ?' says Paul Klosters, ambling towards me 'thought you would want to drive'
'Somehow I knew you might say that' I quipped.
Paul hated driving with a passion, preferring to ride 'shotgun' often literally, so that 'I can get a good shot at any fucking prawn who even looks at me the wrong way'
'Was a piece of shit what they did to Chris right Mike?' Paul said as he stepped into the Hilux 'a real tragedy for Sherrie Madsen and her kids'
'Yeah of course Paul, I mean a widow at thirty two and...'
'Those motherfucking prawns don't know what's heading their way man a lot of guys are talking about taking DIRECT action. You know like fuck MNU, let's do it ourselves'
This was news to me.
I gunned the engine and pulled the vehicle out of the gloomy parking garage and into the bright sunshine of a Johannesburg summer.
'You mean like vigilante type stuff?'
'That's the one, like in the movies and shit. No laser gun is going to stop us!'
'Come on Paul, I mean seriously?'
He looks at me like I have taken a shit on his wife or something.
Traffic is light and the radio chatters away happily, filling in the silences.
Paul hums away to himself but then stops abruptly when he sees something.
'He what the fuck is he doing back?' he cusses to no one 'pull in here my man!'
I can see a prawn...sorry non-human, standing at the street corner selling things as a vendor.
'Bloody hell that's Marcus...' I blurt out.
'Who the hell is he? Oh never mind come on let's get him!'
Paul runs like an excitable kid and I hear him shouting at the black coloured alien, who looks terrified.
'All right fuck face what are you doing back, I expressly told you no vending your shit round here!' Paul has the CR-21 out and pointed up at the taller alien, who raises his arms.
'I didn't mean to...well its only cat food and bottle tops...' it clicks.
Paul smashes the makeshift stall clean with the butt of his rifle, clattering the goods to the ground. The alien goes to pick it up but a well aimed kick from Paul knocks him back. I catch up then.
'There you go' Paul is shouting 'now who the fuck is going to buy cat food and that other rubbish eh?'
'Hey Paul cool your jets we got a small disapproving crowd here' I say.
'Who gives a fuck I am trying to protect you people from these disgusting...creatures' Paul, now half-crazed, yells at them. He tosses a can of cat food at Marcus who is slowly rising onto all fours.
'Here eat this prawn and go nuts for these nice people, go on prove you can't be trusted outside of that shithole slum you live in'
Sure enough a small gathering has formed, heckling, shaking their heads and drawing out camera phones to film us.
'Ok everybody nothing to see here, move on...'
'There is everything to see here young man' an elderly black man says 'why can't you leave these poor beings alone, this one is only trying to make a living'
'RIGHT ON!' the crowd chants in unison.
The man, who I swear Paul wants to beat down along with the alien Marcus, tosses a handful of rand notes at the alien, who scoops them up like spilled jewels.
'Thank you' it chirps modestly.
'You clear off now!' I tell him 'and you let's go before we start a riot' I ask Paul, dragging him by the arm.
'You even think about coming back here I will rip your antenna off and shove them up your arse, get me?' Paul whispers to the alien.
'What the hell was that about, we are not even near District 9 yet' I practically shout at Paul.
'Our jurisdiction covers the city as well Mike, you know this, and that fucker is always there flouting the rules and getting the locals to feel sorry for him'
Paul was like a spoilt child.
'Rubbish you just wanted to have a go didn't you?'
'And so what if I did eh? You starting to turn into a prawn lover now are you?'
'No I just think we have to watch our step out here, not EVERYONE hates the non-humans like we do and MNU needs to do a lot of work patching up public relations right now. Remember Tanya Simms?'
'Yeah that fucking bitch'
Tanya Simms was a savvy journalist who had gone undercover and caught a group of MNU and police personnel harassing and beating up a family of non-humans, eventually torching them out of their condo in Hillbrow. Ironically Chris Madsen had been one of those men caught in the subsequent dragnet.
'That doesn't mean we let prawns like him take the piss out of us does it Mike? Besides, I don't see any journalists around do you?'
God his naivety was breathtaking.
'Paul do you really hate the aliens or is it because you get sucked into the bigotry of guys like Madsen?'
'Hey don't you use fucking use his name that way, respect him man!'
'Ok whatever'
