Part 7 (1/2)

'This is our bridge.' The man angled his shaved head so he could see what Ped had inscribed. 'You've no friggin' right.'

Another of the guys peered over. 'Hey, who's there with you?'

'Just my brother.'

'What's he doing?'

'He gets scared sometimes.'

One of the shaved heads tilted to one side. 'Hey, I know him. It's Sparky.'

Ped shook his head. 'That was at school. His name's Mickey.'

'Sparky Lectric. That's what we called him. He's scared of batteries and plug sockets, anything to do with electricity.'

'I don't care what the f.u.c.k they call him.' The gang leader's eyes blazed with fury. 'They've messed our logo.'

'Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slash your piece.'

The leader pointed. 'You? I'm going to break your arms. Your brother? We're taking him down to the track to fry his d.i.c.k on the live rail.'

'We'll go home. We didn't-'

'Get them!'

The gang weren't listening. Ped knew that he and his brother were in for a kicking at least.

'Come on, Mickey. On your feet!'

'Electric Man.'

'If we don't get away they're going to hurt us, Mickey. Move!'

Ped noticed that the gang split into two. One pair to block the end of the gantry, while the others would trap them at the other side, then work into the middle. Ped bundled Mickey along the gantry as a train hummed beneath them. Electric contacts shot sparks from under the carriages. Mickey groaned with fear.

'Mickey, listen. We're going down the ladder. Then we cross the track. See the ca.n.a.l at the far side? There's a path we can use.'

As much as mapping out the route it was a way of distracting his brother from what would be the biggest obstacle. Mickey would have to step over the high-voltage rail. Just to see that gleaming band of steel was enough to scare the bejesus out of him. To get close would freak him out. 'It's either that or get pounded,' Ped grunted. 'I'll go down the ladder first. Follow me. But fast, okay?'

In the gloom he could see the gang members, who were going to seal one end of the gantry, had already climbed over the bridge wall, then they'd jump the last five feet on to the steel pathway. Down the ladder was the only exit.

'Keep following me, bro,' Ped called. His brother obeyed. The kid might be cursed with a phobia but he wasn't simple. He knew the gang wanted to hurt him, so the two brothers clanged their way down the ladder that was fixed to the wall. Soon they descended into a deep cutting where the trains clattered.

Ped glanced up. The gang had reached the top of the ladder. One of them was pointing down, so they'd spotted their prey. 'Keep moving, bro!' He climbed down another dozen rungs to where a light was fixed to the brickwork alongside the ladder. Ped zipped by it without a second thought, then he noticed his brother had stopped just a couple of feet above it.

'Come on, Mickey. You can't stop now.'

'I'm going back up.'

'No!'

The steel ladder convulsed under his hands as the gang swarmed on to it; they descended with their boots clumping against the rungs. In ten seconds they'd reach Mickey; then what? Stamp on his hands until they made him fall the twenty feet to the tracks below?

'Mickey,' Ped hissed. 'Hurry up.'

'Can't.'

'What's wrong?'

'Light.'

'It's just a light.'

'Red for danger. Danger of death. Electricity.'

'd.a.m.n.' Ped eyeballed the b.l.o.o.d.y light. It was nothing special; merely one of those signal lights that festoon the London Underground. Only to Mickey it represented danger. It was danger. Mickey saw it as a pulsating reservoir of electricity - a swarming hive of amps, volts and watts that were waiting to attack him. The kid probably imagined the light would fire a jet of crimson electricity at him that would blast through his body to make his bones pulse with that same blood-red light before burning the flesh from him. Mickey panted with sheer panic. Above him, the skinheads were descending fast. Soon the first boot would smash down on his brother's head.

'Mickey. It can't hurt you.'

'Red for danger. It'll burn.'

'No, it won't. Look.' Ped slapped the flat of his hand against the light. It wasn't even hot, but try telling his brother that. Mickey just moaned and closed his eyes.

One of the thugs shouted, 'Hey, Sparky? Sparky Lectric! We're gonna take you down to the live rail. You know something? A million volts go shooting through it. If you drop a rat on that it explodes. Boom!' The skinheads laughed. 'We're gonna pull your d.i.c.k out of your underpants then stick it on the electric rail. Can't you just see what's going to happen to it? Just get that picture in your mind's eye. Your p.r.i.c.k touching all that electricity. It'll go black. Shrivel up! Then your b.a.l.l.s are going to get hotter and hottera then boom!'

Mickey's scream echoed along the cutting.

Ped yelled up at the gang. 'Shut up! Can't you see he's scared?'

The gang could easily have reached Mickey now, but they were laughing so much at his terrified screams that they had to hang on to the ladder as they roared with hilarity. This gave Ped a chance. He pulled the aerosol from his jacket pocket.

'Mickey. Watch me. Please, open your eyes. See what I'm doing. I'm putting a circle around the light.' He sprayed a ring of florescent green round the red light. 'See, bro. I've closed it in. I've trapped it. Now it can't hurt you.' He reached up and yanked his brother's ankle. 'Now move!'

Mickey stared at the red light with the gleaming boundary of green. In his eyes the paint had become the protecting force field. The magic s.h.i.+eld that stopped electrons streaming from the lamp to sear his face. Gulping repeatedly, he quickly descended; so fast, in fact, that he stepped on Ped's fingers.

'That's alright, bro. You can stand on my face if you want to. Just keep moving. That's beautiful. Yeah, beautiful, Mickey. You're doing the business.'

Seconds later they reached the gravel base of the cutting. Across the rails he could see the gleam of ca.n.a.l water. Nearly there. He glanced up. The skinheads' anger at being thwarted from simply booting Mickey off the ladder had killed their fit of laughter. Now they were h.e.l.l-bent on catching their victims. The ladder shook as their boots clattered on the rungs. The clatter became a thunder. It was so loud it made the ground tremble. For a moment he believed it was the force of those feet cras.h.i.+ng down the ladder. Then a flicker of light raced across the horizon. 'Great,' Ped muttered, 'all this and a thunderstorm, too.'

He grabbed Mickey by the elbow. After a train had pa.s.sed, all lights as it clanked forward in the darkness, he urged his brother to move. Mickey's legs froze as he saw the dreaded live power rail in front of him. Running between the two rails that accommodated the wheels of the train, it was a thick continuous band of iron that even for Ped appeared to pulse with ominous energy.

'For G.o.d's sake, step over it when we cross. Don't touch it.'

But Mickey had clearly decided to go nowhere near it.

'C'mon, Mickey. We've got to cross over the rails. It's the only way we can escape those guys.'