by Sean Cahill
A day after viewing the governor’s ad, Frank signed up for his local NSI chapter.
When he reported for his first overnight patrol he was given a blue vest, a nightstick, and a radio. He was also granted access to an official app that certified him as an NSI volunteer. This allowed units to identify one another, call for backup, and otherwise coordinate operations.
Most of the other volunteers were just like Frank: middle-aged dads, disgruntled homeowners, men who’d had enough. They were insurance underwriters and software engineers, car salesmen and financial analysts. Nobody special. The only thing they had in common was a seething desire to cleanse their neighborhood of the homeless.
“For the new guys tonight, I’ll explain how this works,” said a heavyset man in a red vest. He was their NSI unit leader.
Frank stood with the others, listening.
“We patrol the neighborhood in two vehicles, always sticking together. Use your LED torches to light up anywhere you think a bum might be – thick vegetation, alleyways, parking lots, behind stores. You know where these bastards sleep.”
Nervous laughter from the group. The leader continued.
“If you see one, call it out on radio. We all go in. Car 2 secures the perimeter while Car 1 takes the target into custody. Then we return them here, to the holding area. Government Collections comes and takes them away at dawn. Simple as that.”
There was a satisfied muttering. Everyone seemed pleased with the plan.
“Where do they go after Collections takes them?” someone asked.
The leader looked at the man, thought for a moment.
“Out of your neighborhood.”
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