Hacker by Malorie Blackman

present is in your locker, not mine. I’ve got quite enough on my plate at the moment, what with Miss Hiff’s letter about the “Hacker Supreme”.’
    ‘Oh yeah … I’d forgotten about that,’ Gib replied.
    ‘I hadn’t.’
    We walked in silence around the corner of the road. Boroughvale was at the other end of the street.
    ‘I reckon the best place to get over the railings is behind the goal posts. There’s practically no hedge left there. It’s been battered too much by us getting the balls back that missed the goal.’
    A privet hedge stood between the school fields and buildings and the railings which ran at least two-thirds of the way around the school boundary.
    ‘Will you be able to lift me?’ I asked Gib doubtfully.
    ‘Of course I can.’ Gib sounded insulted. ‘And once we’re in, I’ve got my torch and some string and some sweets if we should get stuck there overnight …
    ‘What’s the string for?’ I asked.
    ‘I thought we could tie it to a railing and use it to find our way out of school.’
    ‘But that’s what the torch is for,’ I said, getting confused. ‘And besides, we could both find our way out of school with blindfolds on. We come here every day – remember?’
    ‘But we
might
need the string. Anything might happen. I might drop the torch and break it,’ Gib said.
    I burst out laughing. ‘Don’t get carried away, Gib. We’re not going to get stuck until morning and you’re
not
going to drop your torch.’
    ‘OK!’ Gib pouted, the tops of his ears a brilliant red. ‘That still leaves one problem though.’
    ‘Yes, I know,’ I said gloomily.
    Neither of us had to say it. We both knew. Mr Guy, the caretaker, and his killer dog, Jaws.
    Not that any of us had actually seen Jaws. Mr Guy was always telling us that Jaws had to be kept chained up inside the caretaker’s house during the day for our own protection. Well, if the dog was half as bad as Mr Guy, it would be a right snarling misery. A Rottweiler or at the very least a great hulking brute of an Alsatian. Would Jaws be roaming around the school, ready to bite our legs off when he got the first sniff of us?
    ‘I don’t suppose you’ve come up with a master plan for dealing with the dog?’ I asked.
    ‘Ah, that’s where you’re wrong. Yes, I have,’ Gib replied smugly.
    ‘I’m all ears,’ I prompted.
    ‘If we see Jaws or hear him or even just suspect he’s near by we do one simple thing.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Run!’
    I looked at Gib and we both cracked up laughing.
    ‘You must have racked your brains all the way here to come up with that one!’ I said.
    At last we reached our school. What an anticlimax! The gate was wide open and it seemed as if every light in the place was on.
    ‘So much for my torch,’ Gib said, disappointed.
    ‘And so much for climbing the railings,’ I said, not disappointed.
    The smile on my face was so broad it almost hurt. ‘I forgot about the adult education classes that go on here.’
    ‘Hmm!’ Gib snorted. He was really annoyed. Pin-head!
    We both strolled into the school. We passed the canteen first. It was full of people who completely ignored us. Next, up the steps and along the quad and past the assembly hall. Just then, a small cocker spaniel came trotting up to us.
    ‘Hello, boy,’ I smiled, bending to fuss behind its ears. ‘Who do you belong to then?’
    ‘Jaws! JAWS! Here, boy!’ Mr Guy came trotting up behind his dog. This was Jaws! I couldn’t believe my eyes – or my ears.
    Mr Guy glared over his glasses at me and Gib. He had on dark slacks and a light-blue polo shirt. His bald head gleamed like a snooker ball. And Jaws, who barely came up past my ankle, was sniffing and yapping at my feet. We couldn’t help it. Gib and I laughed so hard, he was holding his side and I had tears in my eyes.
    ‘ ’Ere! I know you two,’ Mr Guy said, not amused. ‘You two come to school here during the day, don’t you? I’m sure I’ve seen you knocking about. So what