Jay led the Dons onto the field, the small, vulnerable flame flickering in his mind. It was deep within a cave, and a blizzard raged outside. Wind stabbed into the cave, threatening the flame, threatening survival. All that stood between the flame and death was Jay. He trembled.
But he wasn't alone, not truly. The others charged onto the field, slapping him on the back before they formed ranks. Their last shot at redemption was here, and they were going to give it everything they had.
Stephen stood before Lennox, eyeing the feral Trailblazer warily. Lennox looked at Stephen like he'd rip Stephen's hand off if they got too close. Getting around that beast would be difficult, but Stephen could still be useful in other ways.
He was sent deep on the first play, a Play-Action, one where Lennox stuck with Stephen and didn't blitz, though Jay was still on the lookout for such a trick.
Inklings of doubt still infested the Trailblazers, thanks to the earlier Flea Flicker. With that, Cole burst across the field, and after a long dragging route, caught the ball. Turning upfield, he edged out another few yards, gaining 7 on the play.
On the following Draw, Chris battled his way forward for the first down. The first step had been taken, but Jay wasn't comfortable. Comfort killed, and the Dons were still under threat. They would be until the ball was in the end-zone and the officials were signalling a touchdown.
Benny struck next, utilising the space Stephen created. Jay hit Benny on an Out route, picking up another five yards.
The Dons kept their huddles short; they had to work quick, and thankfully Jay's brain was speeding through the ideas and clues he saw. Coach Long was a great sounding board to bounce those ideas off of, and as he had full trust in Jay and the rest of the boys, they could change whatever they needed.
So that was why Jay sent Chris out to the flat on the next play, but instead of remaining for a dump-off check-down pass, Chris rounded up into a vertical. The Wheel route brought him past the defender who had floated out to protect that sideline, and with a head start, Chris easily won the footrace.
Jay dropped the pass in just a few yards behind Stephen and Lennox, who kept charging ahead on their own Vertical. Chris caught the ball with ease, though was soon dragged down after a gain of 21.
The air was electric. The Dons had come alive at just the right time, and the fans were right behind them, urging them on. But the Trailblazers wouldn't be left behind so easily. They rose to the occasion, meeting the Dons' challenge head on as their defence tightened their grip on the game.
Unfortunately for them, Jay was on fire, and the game came to him as easy as breathing. He saw through the defence a moment after the snap, and though it was an impressive showing, there were always holes in any formation, however small they were.
Fearless, Jay fired into these holes, meeting Benny or Cole at just the right moment, sometimes with a Trailblazer within a fingernail of deflecting the ball.
Slants, Crosses, Posts, Corners, Jay hit the smallest bullseye no matter what route was needed to pierce the defence. Benny and Cole gave it all they had, and needed every ounce of effort to reach the gaps in time to come down with the ball, but they did, every damn time. Eventually, the Dons were at the goal-line, a touchdown only a few yards away.
The crowd was at a fever pitch. Both teams, despite dripping with sweat, looked as intense as ever. Everyone was going to lay everything out on the field to either stop the other team from reaching the end-zone, or to bash through the other team INTO the end-zone.
All eyes were on Jay before the snap … which is precisely why he handed the ball off to Chris, who all but waltzed into the end-zone, untouched.
Silence hung over the field for a second after the touchdown. Even the fans had been stunned by the Draw. Then the next seconds passed by all at once, as if making up for how long the world stood still.
Jay found himself at the bottom of a pile of Dons, Chris the one directly on top of him, the second-most squashed under that mass. The bodies were a shield against the noise washing over them, like a protective dome that muffled the ocean of screams and cheers above them.
The cheers only intensified when the Dons finally approached the bench. With the touchdown, the gap closed again, the score ticking over to 28–20, and that 20 soon become 21 with another successful extra point.
Lennox remained on the field throughout, never moving even during the extra point, and the following kick-off—which was only another touchback. He stood in the end-zone, like he was a statue. All that moved were his head and eyes. Sometimes he glared at the scoreboard, mostly he glared at Jay.
A hateful, oppressive gaze like that was hard to ignore, but Jay did his best. He wouldn't be the one who'd have to face Lennox's wrath, anyway. That was a good thing, not just because he didn't want to go within 10 yards of that psycho, but because he couldn't think of anyone better or crazier to match that glare than Ty.
When Ty strode onto the field, Lennox's eyes locked onto him and refused to leave. Lennox hardly even blinked. The momentum had been flipped on its head, and despite the Dons still being down 7 points, it felt like the game was theirs to lose.
Staring at Lennox, Ty saw that fact didn't register with the crazed Trailblazer. Lennox's stare was so intense and focused, Ty doubted he remembered there was a GAME going on, let alone what the score was. All Lennox saw was a challenge to overcome—Ty, not the Dons.
Ty grinned, leaning forward in his stance. What a fascinating beast. He needed to see how far this creature could fall, how deep its despair could reach, how broken it could become.
The ball was snapped, and Lennox roared as he charged out of his stance. He was faster, wilder, yet still precise enough that he could've stopped on a pinhead.
Lennox jutted inside, then slammed down and jumped out instead. The cut happened before Ty could even react to the first stutter and left him frozen, leaning out. He sprung after Lennox, the reception already completed. As Lennox turned upfield, Ty dove at his legs, snagging one.
Lennox powered through, jumping and kicking as his legs kept churning. He bucked Ty off and scrambled up along the sideline, somehow staying in bounds even as Ty rolled out.
When Zayden came to confront Lennox and shepherd him out, Lennox lunged towards him, slamming into his chest and knocking him over. Thankfully, Zayden clawed onto Lennox's hips and legs as he the wild beast barrelled right over him, and dragged Lennox down after a gain of 16.
Just when Ty thought he'd figured out the ferocious beast that was Lennox, he upped his game again and again. "Just die, bastard." It was infuriating. Simultaneously, Ty couldn't help but enjoy the repeated challenge and thrill that came with it. If there wasn't so much riding on the game, he would've liked to see just how far Lennox's evolution could go. Maybe it would've helped him understand what exactly made someone special, if he saw an inferior beast bloom into something special right before his eyes.
From what Ty saw of that play, and even the following, Lennox hadn't changed. He wasn't doing anything differently, nor had he started using a different technique. He was just faster; stronger, too. Again he'd ripped the ball away from Ty once they'd both got their hands to it, Lennox only slightly before Ty.
It had been a Slant. Lennox's first step had been a rocket, and Ty had only been a split-second behind. But that was enough. Lennox's fingers reached the ball first, though Ty clamped onto the pig-skin a moment later. They'd wrestled with each other, but Lennox spun away with the ball. The fury and strength he had was surprising. It was like an almost primal need, like Ty was trying to rip his heart away instead of the ball.
Even when JJ rammed into Lennox, Lennox kept powering ahead and fell forward another couple of yards, earning 8 that play.
It put a nasty taste in Ty's mouth. He wasn't inferior in any way regarding skill or route-reading or anything football related. But Lennox had the edge physically. It was like his battle with the Monarchs and Nate Langford. He was losing because of speed. Whereas the Bullet Train had Ty beat at top speed, it was the opposite of Lennox, who was blitzing him with footwork and agility.
It made Ty feel like a mouse on the field, scurrying beneath the feet of tigers … or a little, defenceless rabbit.
"I'm nothing like him." Ty grit his teeth and clenched his fists. He was small, but he had other gifts. If one of those gifts—his speed—was failing him, he just had to use the others. … But Lennox wasn't getting into an aerial battle with him.
Despite Ty's renewed determination, and his efforts to swat the ball away from Lennox using his long arms instead of fighting over its possession, Sierra Canyon still blazed a trail along the field, on their way to the end-zone.
Lennox zigged and zagged, dove and dipped, anything to get an inch of room, and with that inch he could take a mile. Repeatedly he dragged the Trailblazers up the field and brought them ever closer to a game-sealing touchdown. Not only was he a threat to score, but the long, steady drive drained valuable time away from the clock.
No matter what Ty did, he couldn't stick in front of Lennox, couldn't pin him in place with his long arms, and couldn't force him into a jump-ball.
Then, the Trailblazers were standing on the goal-line, with a chance to rip the game away from the Dons and end their season.
No one but Lennox had moved the ball even a yard down the field. Every play had gone to him. The rest of the players may as well have been spectators to the one-on-one battle playing out before them, where the fate of the championship hung in the balance.
Ty was at the brink, and he could feel the cliff side crumbling away from beneath his feet. A Slant would come, he was sure of it. With the way Lennox was now, he could power his way through. Even if the catch was contested, and they both had their hands on it, Lennox would win.
So … so Ty would give up the Slant. Since Lennox's shift into this bestial, instinctual Receiver rather than the calm and logical facsimile of a disciplined Receiver he was at the beginning of the game, Ty had been covering him like normal, no longer herding him towards one side.
But at the goal-line, Ty shifted over, giving up the inside. Lennox's brow furrowed. He'd been scowling the whole time, huffing like a beast, unresponsive to any jibe, and with no taunts of his own. Now there was confusion muddling his wild anger. For the first time that drive, his focused shifted from Ty before the snap. He looked at Kieran, motioning urgently.
Kieran frowned at Lennox. He glanced from Lennox to Ty, and then the obvious space Ty left to the inside. It was a trap, anyone could see that, but anyone could also see that such a gap this close to the goal-line was fatal. The Trailblazers only needed a couple of yards, and from that position, Ty could stop Lennox, but not until he'd at least got into the end-zone already.
Kieran shook his head. Lennox snarled. 'Just fucking do it!' He shouted. Kieran jumped. His hands went to his helmet—they were shaking. Obviously, Coach Heenan had a message for him, no doubt telling him to take the Slant and get the touchdown. But Ty knew Lennox wouldn't do that, and with the way Kieran looked at Lennox, the usually calm and distant senior feared his teammate much more than his coach.
Lennox was a wild beast, but Ty remembered he was still just a prey animal, no matter what. He could act and growl like a predator, but in the end, he was still just a prey playing pretend. Another crucial difference between the two was a predator's cunning. They'd understand the trap was flawed, that Ty was bluffing, and that the Slant would win … but a prey with ambitions of becoming something they could never be? A false predator like Lennox? They couldn't resist the blatant challenge Ty made. They'd force themselves to the outside.
'Do it!' Lennox shouted again.
'HUT-HUT!' Kieran cried. The ball was snapped. Everything seemed to slow down. Not Ty and Lennox, however. The latter burst outside, charging at Ty like he'd run him over. Ty jumped aside like a matador playing with a raging bull. Lennox stumbled but caught himself an instant later and skirted the sideline, racing up it towards the corner of the end-zone, calling for the ball. Ty backpedalled, eyes locked on Kieran.
With a desperate, fearful look on his face, Kieran lobbed the ball towards the back corner of the end-zone. Lennox turned, following that looping arc. He planted himself. He'd seen this same thing over and over, in all those montages of "Skywalker". The over-hyped Receiver would leap into the air, head and shoulders above his defender and "Moss" them, snatching the ball away from them before they could even reach it, and landing gracefully behind them. Lennox leapt into the air. This was HIS moment, his crowning achievement. He was going to embarrass the number one defender in the state, and secure the championship for his team. He'd go viral, and everyone would finally understand that he was the number one Receiver in the nation, not that fucking fraud.
Ty watched the ball. It floated through the air. Lennox had read it well, timed it well. He'd reach it at his apex. Ty jumped. He read and timed it well, too. Like Lennox, his hands would reach the ball at the apex of his jump … unlike Lennox, his apex was higher.
Lennox watched in horror as Ty rose before him, those long arms stretching into the sky, stretching into the heavens themselves. And from it, they stole his light. Lennox flailed, grabbing at Ty as they fell. Ty was hovering at his apex, hands wrapped tight around the ball. Lennox could only reach Ty's helmet. He grabbed and pulled. Ty's head snapped back, but the helmet slipped free from his head. Lennox crashed to the ground, landing flat on his back, helmet in his grasp. Ty landed on his feet, ball in his hands. The field, open and free in front of him.
He took off. They caught him in the end-zone. The opposite end-zone, 107 yards away from where he'd started his mad dash. It was his teammates who caught him, burying him under them much like the offence had to Chris and Jay several minutes before.
The pick-six pushed the score to 28–27, left the Dons behind by only one, but gave them an opportunity to snatch the lead then and there.
Once the pile dispersed—the cheers still echoing underneath the continued waves of noise—JJ clasped Ty's hand, yanking him to his feet. Ty leaned close, clutching at JJ's jersey, a desperate look in his eye.
'End this game now,' Ty said with all the urgency he could muster. 'Get the offence out there and go for two. Ram the ball down their fucking throats!'
JJ looked across the field to the Dons' bench. Most were still in the middle of celebrating, though Coach Long was gathering the kicking team. JJ ran over, waving his hand in the air, two fingers up, yelling that they should go for two.
Coach Long waved him over, meeting him at the edge of the field, offering an ear to listen through all the noise.
'We need to go for two, Coach!' JJ shouted, still having to, even with their proximity. 'I can lead the way for Cameron and we can score! Leave it to the defence to protect the lead after that!'
There were under four minutes on the clock, but factoring in all the timeouts both teams still had and those minutes could last an eternity in football time.
'I like the idea, Coach,' Coach Hoang said, adding his voice to the discussion. 'My boys will keep that lead.'
'Then they can keep the game tied too and give our offence a chance to win it with a field goal,' Coach Norman added. 'Besides, if we don't get it, then we'll still be down one and the Trailblazers could just run out the clock.'
Coach Long listened to both sides. He had little time to think. The entire team was around him. No one was celebrating now; they were all listening for his decision.
'Coach Norman's right,' he finally said. 'We can't risk it. Our boys can prevent anymore scoring, so we'll still have a chance to win with one more drive after.'
Ty hung his head, biting back a curse. It was okay. Coach Long spoke the truth. Ty knew Sierra Canyon wouldn't score again. He just had to believe in the offence getting another touchdown. … And this extra point.
Ty looked elsewhere, searching for Lennox. He didn't find the boy around the Trailblazers' bench or even on their sideline. He was on the Dons' side of the field, still way down at the far end-zone, sitting off to the side. Lennox was shaking so violently Ty thought he'd literally explode.
Those in the stands held their breath as the Dons lined up for the extra point, and they kept that breath until the kick sailed through the uprights, officially tying the game at 28 all.
The Trailblazers looked destitute. Lennox's shaking had stopped, and he'd rejoined his team. The Dons were on top of the world, but there was a sense of unease masked under all that euphoria.
Spike returned the kick-off to the 33-yard line, and the Trailblazers sent their offence out again. Lennox looked shellshocked. Ty said nothing, scared the wrong word would set off the bomb in front of him, or spark another last ditch evolution from the insane Receiver.
But Kieran didn't look their way for the entire short drive. It was a three and out. The usual calm and collected captain was shaky, his throws and timing off. Each throw missed their target by a wide margin. Unfortunately, they didn't fall into the laps of any Dons on the field.
With not even a minute taken off the clock, the Trailblazers were on fourth down, and they hadn't moved an inch after the kick-off return. They punted the ball back to the Dons and gave them their chance to seal the game. All they needed was a field goal.
But even the Dons were affected by the shakes. Jay felt sick with the weight all falling on his shoulders, and the Dons were crashing from their adrenaline high. The lights were too bright, the stage too grand, and the Dons fell to a three and out as well.
In fact, neither offence had any success after that, nor did they move the ball aside from punts.
When the clock ran out, when the last Hail Mary was thrown and spiked into the stands, the scoreboard still read 28–28.
We were going to overtime.