By the time Ben strode onto Mulberry Street, he knew he was being followed.  His sensitive hearing picked up muffled footfalls behind him.  At least one person, probably two, wearing sneakers.

He concentrated and could smell two distinct body odors.  Their sweat was mixed with heightened adrenalin and something else….  Ben couldn’t identify it without tasting their perspiration but it was probably a drug.

Then he heard the snick of a knife blade as it flicked open.  After a few moments the sound was repeated.  So they were both armed.

Ben was returning from a visit to Scranton’s sleeping mayor, having bitten the man in order to enter his mind.  Each time his band of rolling stones established themselves in a new location, Ben made sure to bite—or screw–the local officials.  That way he could enter their minds and assess if they had finally realized that things in their town weren’t “quite right.”