Hunt and Power. Stephen Hayes

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СКАЧАТЬ of theirs in the middle of the table. My hands began to tingle, to vibrate, sending force from the sky through their hands and to the floor. After about ten seconds, we had let go of each other.

      “Oh,” Hammerson had said, as though struck by a sudden thought, “and no Woodwards.”

      “I thought you said I could bring my friends,” I had said, though I wasn’t at all surprised to hear him say that and had, in fact, been wondering when they would. I put my hands under the table so that I couldn’t be forced to seal another pact.

      “No Woodwards,” Hammerson had growled, standing up and looking simply furious.

      “I’m sure Amelia Woodward can come,” Tankom had said passively.

      “Well that’s just as well,” I had said boldly, standing up also, “’Cause she’s my best friend, and she’s definitely coming…”

      Hammerson seemed to have lost control of the fury he’d been feeling since I walked through the door. He’d whipped an agonator from his pocket, swished it through the air, and clicked it, bringing it to rest in the spot directly between my eyes. Without pausing, he clicked it again. I had felt a sharp explosion inside me, and had at that point woken up, lying in bed and drenched in sweat.

      While I had been dreaming, I had understood pretty much all that was happening, which meant that I hadn’t been reflecting on it. So when I woke up, I had no idea what any of it meant. Now, though, I had to wonder why I was aware of the pact, and the party, as though it had been me instead of Stella who had made the pact with Tankom and Hammerson…

      Chapter 2: Detention with the Devil

      The two periods following recess were just as boring as the two that had preceded it, although we boys received a couple of wake-up calls. Firstly, Hall announced to the class that the next Monday he would begin asking for dates on which we would perform our oral presentations. We were allowed to choose when we wanted to do them; when we were ready.

      “I know you’ll all be looking to put them off for as long as possible,” he said, staring around pointedly. “But let me assure you that you will be well placed to receive better marks if you are one of the first few; I often go easy on the first few.”

      “That won’t be us,” said Peter under his breath. He, James and I were working together, but we had yet to decide what we would talk about.

      Then in History, Mrs. Worlker did a ten-minute catch-up session, due to the fact that so many people hadn’t bothered turning up for the class the previous Monday. She had taken note of the few that were there, which included all five of us, and shot questions around the room at those people relating to what we had done in that lesson. Anton was the only person who impressed her; the rest were either stupid or had been involved in the Crystal business and hadn’t paid enough attention; or, in the case of Harry and Simon, both.

      When we met up at lunch time in the locker bay, we were all in a bad mood; Mrs. Worlker had given us another stack of homework to do before Wednesday’s class. This time, it was Katie and Sophie who had followed us, whispering in Harry and Simon’s ears, respectively. No guesses as to what was going on there, I thought. The twelve of us spent most of lunch time talking about Stella again; Marc hadn’t had a chance to talk to her yet, so we didn’t get any further than we had been at recess.

      After lunch, however, I was forced to think about other things. We had PE, and we were to start playing proper soccer matches out on the oval. Two weeks earlier, we had divided into teams, and we would spend the next few weeks playing off. Our team consisted of all Young Army members—Peter, James, Harry, Simon, Serena, Erica, David, Craig (who was captain), Daniel, Liam and myself.

      “There will be two matches in progress this afternoon,” Mr. Happy told the mass of students (large as ever, given that all the year-nine classes had PE at the same time). “The team not playing is dismissed and can go do whatever they like—even go home,” he added, and suddenly no one was interested in playing soccer anymore. “On the far side of the oval will be Jim Rich’s team against Sally Hipmore’s team. On the near side of the oval will be Jordan Bolton’s team against Craig Hardy’s team. Okay people, let’s go!”

      Within ten minutes, we were playing ball. It ended up being a two-all draw, but it was good in that it took all our minds off more serious matters. Peter scored first with a slip around an opponent, which even I was impressed with. It was good to see that he hadn’t lost his touch over the summer (we had all played soccer during the year—all us boys except James and Daniel, anyway). Robyn Lloyd kicked the next goal from a penalty, levelling the scores, but within minutes David displayed some extremely nimble skills for a tall guy in scoring our second. Troy Menora goaled within minutes of time, but only because James, who was the goal keeper, let his guard down, clearly thinking we’d done enough to win.

      The bell rang not long after the end of the game, and we all hurried back to the locker bay to get our stuff. If it weren’t for the massive sign right over our lockers, we might have forgotten that we were supposed to meet with Hall first. So grudgingly, Peter, Harry, Simon and I said goodbye to James and the others and set off for Room 12, where we were to serve our detention.

      The rest of our fellow trouble makers were already waiting outside the room when we arrived. Justin Time and Tulip Naval were whispering together, and I had a feeling I knew what they were talking about. Between the two of them, they could be as difficult as me, Peter and the twins all put together—if they were on their game, anyway. I certainly hoped they were on their game today, because as far as I was concerned, Hall deserved everything coming to him for the way he’d behaved the week before. Behind them, George Tuck and Belinda Pensinger, who were clearly an item, were locked in what looked like a fierce match of tonsil hockey. I looked away, not wanting to be reminded of my own love life, or lack thereof.

      “Any ideas, you two?” Peter asked Justin when we reached them.

      He shook his head. “We think we’ll be able to think of something once we get in there,” he said, “but it’s difficult to plan for Hall.”

      I knew what he meant. A few weeks ago we had been trying to plan the same thing, but none of our plans had worked, and we’d eventually gone back to spontaneity, which always seemed to be our greatest weapon. The only certainty was that we had to do something; after our history with Hall, sitting back and letting him bully us was not an option.

      “Just in time, here he comes,” said Tulip, looking over Simon’s shoulder and down the hall.

      “I’m right here, bitch,” laughed Justin, slapping Tulip on the back.

      Indeed, Hall was coming down the hall, pushing a trolley in front of him. The trolley was loaded with paper.

      “Uh-oh,” said Harry, staring at the trolley.

      “What?” I asked, not catching on to what the rest of them were thinking.

      “Eight,” said Hall, counting us as he reached us. “Excellent … excellent.”

      “You won’t be saying that once we’re through with you,” said Justin under his breath, while the rest of us sniggered.

      “What’s that?” Hall asked, scowling.

      “Oh, nothing, sir,” said Justin brightly. Hall looked around at the rest of us, all trying to hide our smirks, and scowled.

      Then СКАЧАТЬ