The Shaking

Chapter Four

Wednesday.

07.25. Wizzit Couriers; South East London.

Even though he'd set off early in order to give himself extra time to get here, Ryan Buckland's tired old French hatchback arrived at the Wizzit Couriers Logistics Centre only five minutes before his shift was due to begin. The rush hour traffic these days was getting worse. Ryan would have cycled the few miles to work, and no doubt have saved himself some time and a lot of money doing so; but the location of the depot - just off a busy major road junction - rendered that impractical. He'd be risking his life on every journey.

Parking the car and grabbing his rucksack, Ryan swiped his card in before reporting to the dispatch office. László the shift supervisor was waiting to present him with his portable terminal. "The usual van and area, Ryan." he said in his typically friendly manner as he handed over the device preloaded with the day's assignments. "And be careful; Stinky was driving it overnight!"

"Thanks for the warning!"

Ryan left the office to collect the van already loaded for his run. Once he did so it was only a moment's work to dock his terminal with the custom dashboard mount and adjust the driving seat. As Buckland did so his nose wrinkled; Stinky was named not only for his poor personal hygiene but his fondness for skunk cannabis which he smoked now and then in flagrant defiance of the company's rules while working; a faint mixture of both odours lingered in his wake. His weed habit was a well known fact among his coworkers, but no one bothered to make an issue of it provided he got his job done. Somehow he always seemed to be able to avoid or pass Wizzit's occasional employee drug tests or the random police roadside checkpoints, though one day his luck would be bound to run out. Ryan gave the cab a quick inspection for anything Stinky might have carelessly left behind; the last thing he needed would be any of that kind of trouble

With László's warning still fresh in his mind, there was one final check to perform before starting the vehicle. As Ryan expected the radio's volume knob had been left turned all the way up; he muted it prior to switching on the van's DAB console: Stinky's favourite heavy rock station appeared on the display. Buckland changed channels to BBC Radio South East before raising the volume to a non distracting background murmur. His seat adjusted to fit and preparations complete, Ryan eased the van out of the depot.

It should be an easy run; the optimum route had already been calculated for him. All Ryan had to do was allow himself to be guided by voice prompts from his terminal, scan the label and collect an electronic signature for each delivery which would be accounted for via a real time link, and keep up with the schedule. The latter might be the hardest part though; already the heavy traffic around him was beginning to slow. The van's terminal beeped a warning tone; demanding a reason for his slow progress. Buckland barked a curt "Traffic!" to silence it. Though smart, Wizzit's devices and the programmes which supported them didn't yet cross-reference their vehicle's position against the Real Time Traffic Information which was widely available, leaving the drivers to explain any delays themselves. The courier business was a constant, relentless pressure to deliver the goods on time; being late was an unforgivable sin

With any luck the speed of the traffic would increase and Ryan would be able to make up the time to reach his first delivery at one of his regular stops - a distribution business for something or other, he didn't know what - located a few junctions further along the motorway on schedule. So far the cheerfully inane Radio South East presenter hadn't thought it necessary to mention the problem so it couldn't be that bad. Their breakfast show might be excruciatingly mind numbing but at least RSE were on the ball with their traffic updates, often giving out advice and warnings well in advance of the van's terminal.