I heard a click as the PA system of car-speakers and car-batteries in the tennis courts powered up.
"TAKE IT BACK!"
It was a defiant yell, like a sound shouted into the surf or screamed off a cliff.
"TAKE IT BACK!"
The crowd growled, a sound that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
"TAKE IT BACK!" they chanted. "TAKE IT BACK TAKE IT BACK TAKE IT BACK!"
The police moved in in lines, carrying plastic shields, wearing Darth Vader helmets that covered their faces. Each one had a black truncheon and infra-red goggles. They looked like soldiers out of some futuristic war movie. They took a step forward in unison and every one of them banged his truncheon on his shield, a cracking noise like the earth splitting. Another step, another crack. They were all around the park and closing in now.
"DISPERSE IMMEDIATELY," the voice of God said again. There were helicopters overhead now. No floodlights, though. The infrared goggles, right. Of course. They'd have infrared scopes in the sky, too. I pulled Ange back against the doorway of the church, tucking us back from the cops and the choppers.
"TAKE IT BACK!" the PA roared. It was Trudy Doo's rebel yell and I heard her guitar thrash out some chords, then her drummer playing, then that big deep bass.
"TAKE IT BACK!" the crowd answered, and they boiled out of the park at the police lines.