‘Good work, Will,’ smiled Andrel, holding the convulsing sock triumphantly in his hand.
‘Where’d the sock come from?’ Will asked,
‘It’s mine from last Friday,’ he said, ‘I thought Valda would appreciate that.’
‘I hope you know we’re dead now,’ said Tayna, walking over. ‘You can’t bargain with those two, only take the blow and hope for the best,’
‘You make them sound…horrible. Why doesn’t anyone stop them?’ asked Will, watching as Andrel knotted the end of the stinking black sock and had the nerve to bounce it up in his hand playfully.
‘Because they’re them,’ answered Tayna irritatedly, ‘and they never learn because they don’t want to -,’
Suddenly above their heads and all around them, the bell tolled again, and now inside Will saw how brick dust sprinkled worrisomely from the ceiling, the walls wracked with the vibrations. ‘Nine,’ calculated Andrel as he counted each and every ear-splitting ring. ‘That means breakfast’s over –,’
‘And detention,’ added Tayna. ‘That means they’ll be on their way to wring our necks.’ She took a deep breath, as if filling herself with courage, and turned towards the staircase. ‘Let’s go. Bring the sock.’