@the-prisxner liked for a one-liner starter.
“You’re dead, Denbrough! You hear me? DEAD!”
The voice of Henry Bowers – who was clearly still mad about the rock incident – filled the street as Bill ran up the slope, pushing Silver up with him. The bike was too large and heavy for the eleven year old to cycle up the slope without any sort of build up but once he reached the top, he hastily jumped on and began to cycle.
On the best of days Silver was a beast, hard to control for a boy his age and size but he managed just fine. His attention was split though – his eyes darting between the street in front of him and the group of bullies behind him. He could still hear their shouts, but they were growing distant.
Things looked like they were going well until, while he was looking over his shoulder, Silver hit a curb and the boy was thrown off, landing on the pavement with a grunt and grazing the skin on his arms and legs in the process. That was the least of his worries though. His crash had given the boys time to catch up.
Henry Bowers had slowly grown more and more crazy over the summer and Bill didn’t want to find out if he actually would kill him.