Nothing much happens for a while.
The boys and girls keep walking, and as they get closer to Fitzroy House, the girls start getting a bit edgier. They try stopping and turning back once or twice, but the boys just grab them and pull them along. They're all still laughing and smiling, even the girls, and Tom starts to wonder if he's made a mistake. Maybe it is just a bit of fun? Maybe the girls are just playing hard to get, and the boys are just playing hard? Or maybe, he suddenly thinks to himself, maybe it's just you. Maybe you're just a hopeless and pathetic romantic who believes in treating people with respect. I mean, you were brought up by a single grandmother who writes old-fashioned love stories for a living, weren't you? And she did used to read you those love stories at bedtime ...
Christ, he thinks, pausing for a moment, is that what this is all about? The whole knight in shining armour! superhero thing — putting wrongs to right, saving fair maidens, slaying evil dragons — is that what I'm trying to do?
It isn't a comfortable thought. In fact, it's kind of embarrassing. And for a moment or two, Tom seriously considers turning round and going home. Why not? Just forget about the two girls, they'll be perfectly all right. Just forget about them. Forget about everything. Just turn round, go home, and spend the night with Gram watching crappy TV.
And he's just about to do it, he's just about to turn round and start heading back home ...
But then he sees the van.
It's a white Transit, and it's speeding down Crow Lane from the north side. As it approaches the FGH boys, four of them suddenly grab the two girls and start dragging them over to the side of the road. At first, the girls just think that the boys are messing around again — just playing rough, having a laugh. So the girls screech and curse a bit, and they struggle and fight against the four boys, but they don't do it with any real sense of urgency. They still think that it's all just a game. But Tom knows that this isn't a game any more. He can tell by the sudden change in the boys' demeanour — their mouths set tight, their movements quick and furtive, their eyes darting around, looking for witnesses ...
Tom's iSkin is on now, and he's already running when the van pulls up at the side of the road. The back doors swing open and two more FGH kids jump out of the back and start helping the others as they bundle the girls towards the van. The girls have finally realized that this is deadly serious. They're being dragged into the back of a van by a dozen or so young men, and no one's laughing any more. They're panicking now, trying desperately to get away. They're kicking and writhing, squirming and struggling, trying to scream for help ... but two of the boys have their hands clamped hard over the girls' mouths. iBoy is running as fast as he can now, his feet slapping hard on the pavement. He's about ten metres away from the van when one of the younger boys spots him and yells out a warning to the others. They stop and turn to face iBoy, and when they see what's running towards them — some kind of fluorescent mutant in a hood — they all just stand there for a second or two, too stunned to do anything. But then one of them — a really nasty-looking guy with deathly white skin — barks out, "You lot get 'em in the van! The rest of you get this fucker!" And the sound of his voice spurs the rest of them into action.
Six of them turn and form a line behind the nasty- looking guy, blocking iBoy's way to the Transit, while the others carry on manhandling the girls into the back of the van. iBoy knows that he doesn't have much time now. If they get the girls into the van and drive them away, it'll be too late.
So he doesn't waste any time thinking about what to do, he just does it.
He keeps running, heading straight for Nasty, and just as he reaches him, just as Nasty is pulling a knife from his pocket, iBoy screams like a madman and throws himself at Nasty and blasts out a huge burst of power. An ear-splitting CRACK! rips through the air, and just for a moment everything disappears in a blinding flash of electric blue. The power and heat of it is so intense that it singes the hairs on the back of iBoy's arm.
He stands there for a few seconds, waiting for the after-image of the flash to fade from his eyes, and then he looks down at the bodies on the ground. There are seven of them. Some are still semi-conscious — groaning weakly, coughing and spluttering, rubbing their eyes — but most of them have been knocked out. They're just lying there on the ground, perfectly still. Nasty has taken the worst of it. He's lying on his back, about two metres away from iBoy, his face burned red and his eyebrows smouldering. His nylon hooded jacket has melted into his skin, and he's bleeding from his ears, nose, and mouth. iBoy looks up at the others — the ones at the back of the van with the girls. The two nearest to him are on their knees, holding their heads in their hands. Another two are already running off towards Fitzroy House. And the last two are still holding the girls, but not making any effort to move.
"Let them go," iBoy says.
They let them go, and the two girls stagger towards iBoy.
"You OK?" he asks them.
"Yeah ... I think so," one of them says, gazing around at the bodies on the ground.
The other one doesn't say anything. She's crying.
"Where do you live?" iBoy asks the first one.
"Disraeli."
"Are you all right to get back on your own?"
She nods.
"Sure?"
"Yeah ..."
"Go on then," he says gently. "You'll be all right now. Just go straight home, OK?"
She looks at him, hesitating, and iBoy can see the questions in her eyes — who are you? what are you? what have you done to these boys?
"I think you'd better get your friend home now," he says to her. "She's pretty shaken up."
"Yeah ... yeah, of course," the first girl says, moving over to her friend and putting her arm round her. She says a few comforting words to her, wipes some tears from her face, then turns back to iBoy. "Thanks," she says, smiling. "I mean, whoever you are ... thanks."
He smiles back at her.
She nods, turns round, and the two of them start walking back. iBoy watches them for a moment, making sure that they're both OK, then he turns back to the two boys at the van. They haven't moved.
"You waiting for something?" he says to them.
They shake their heads.
"Well, fuck off then."
They run. iBoy walks round to the front of the van. The driver's door is open, but there's no one inside. Whoever was driving must have run off at some point. iBoy leans in, pulls the keys from the ignition, and drops them to the ground. He puts his finger to the ignition and gives it a quick zap. The dashboard glows, the engine roars, then sparks start crackling and popping under the bonnet.
Within a few seconds, smoke starts rising from the engine and flickering blue flames begin to appear. iBoy shuts the van door, spits on the ground, and walks away.
He doesn't look back.
10010
CROW LANE "SUPERHERO"
Local police are concerned at reports of a so-called "superhero" fighting crime on the Crow Lane Estate. Witnesses have described several incidents in which a mysterious figure has been seen taking the law into his own hands in the vicinity of the notorious high-rise estate. One resident, who wishes to remain anonymous, told the Southwark Gazette how she was recently saved from a mugging by "a masked man in a hooded costume". "He just appeared out of nowhere," she said. "There was a bright blue flash, which blinded me for a moment, and the next thing I knew the muggers were running away." When asked if the police condoned the "superhero's" deeds, a spokesman said, "While the intentions of this individual may be good, the way he's going about them is wrong. The police strongly advise against all forms of vigilante action, and we would urge this person, whoever he is, to let the police do their job."