Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Kevin had sworn he recruited Nathaniel Wesninski by accident, won over by his desperate devotion and the anonymity the Foxes needed. Jean had never truly believed him, especially after seeing Nathaniel’s performance on the court. October had been a rough match, but December had been awful. He’d looked much better in the USC game the other week, but he’d been playing as a striker. Nathaniel didn’t have enough experience to guard Riko on the court, and with so much on the line it was ridiculous he’d even try.
The match restarted, and slowly Jean understood it wasn’t his skill the Foxes were relying on. Minute by minute the match ticked away; minute after minute the fastest striker in Class I Exy forced Riko away from Andrew’s goal. He was not the better player, but he didn’t have to be. He simply had to put a leash around Riko’s neck and pull as hard as he could. And pull he did, dogging Riko with a ferocity that made Jean’s skin crawl in sympathetic irritation from all these miles away.
Kevin scored, then scored again. With Riko muzzled and Kevin free to do as he liked, the Foxes forced the game to a tie. Wayne managed to pull the Ravens ahead ten minutes later, but Kevin tied it up with five minutes to go.
They were doomed to a shootout. Jean couldn’t see the Foxes’ faces through their helmets, but there was a disconcerting jerk to the way they all moved that said they were barely conscious anymore between exhaustion and the compounding aches of a violent game. They’d buckle in a shootout, but that they’d forced it to this point was impressive.
With ten seconds left on the clock, Jean thought maybe he’d apologize to Nathaniel for calling the Foxes worthless trash bags. At five seconds, Jean thought he’d even admit the team had performed better than he’d thought possible.
At two seconds, Kevin scored.
The goal went red, the sportscasters came out of their seats hollering, and the final buzzer rang on a Fox win.
Nathaniel had pushed himself to the point of breaking to hold the line, and he fell like a stone to his hands and knees. Andrew stayed behind in his goal, but the rest of the Foxes ran screaming across the court toward Kevin. The Ravens were statues, all heads turned up toward the scoreboard and the unbelievable numbers there.
Jean tuned all of them out. None of them mattered save the dumbfounded King standing over Nathaniel’s fallen body. The heat that ripped through Jean was so violent and hungry his vision went black for a moment.
Nathaniel pried his helmet off with obvious effort and followed Riko’s gaze. The movement was enough to get Riko’s attention, and Riko dragged his stare down to the Fox striker. Nathaniel’s mouth was moving, because of course he’d have to run his mouth despite being worn down to the bone. Jean knew none of the players were wearing a mic, but he wanted to shush the sportscasters who were practically yelling their incredulity at the camera. He needed to know what Nathaniel was saying in this historic moment.
He changed his mind a heartbeat later, because the look that crossed Riko’s face was ugly. Riko raised his racquet with lethal intent, and Jean reached for the screen like he could somehow pull Nathaniel away. There was a sharp, alarmed noise from the sportscasters as they realized too late that Nathaniel was going to get murdered on live TV. The Foxes were all the way at the Ravens’ goal, and no Raven would dare stay Riko’s hand. The only one who had any chance was Andrew, who threw himself out of his goal like all of hell was at his heels.
Run, Jean thought. He didn’t know if he was thinking it at Andrew or Nathaniel. Run.
Riko’s racquet came down, and Andrew’s came up. The force of his oversized goalkeeper racquet crashing into Riko’s arm threw Riko’s stick one way and Riko the other.
Jean was across the room in a heartbeat to slam the TV into the wall behind it. For a perfect moment the stadium and the sportscasters were dead silent, and the only sound being broadcast was Riko’s scream. It was distorted through the court walls but still loud enough to be horrifying.
Everyone was talking again. Jean heard the horror and panic in their voices as they babbled over each other, but he couldn’t make out their words through the roaring in his ears. He stared at Riko where he’d fallen over, watching until the Ravens’ coaches and nurses swarmed him to hide him from view. The Foxes found enough strength to do the same for Nathaniel, forming a frantic barrier around their fallen teammate.
The cameras bounced between the sidelines, first to where a referee was barely keeping Wymack and Abby from charging the court on the Away side and then to where the master stood frozen with his Ravens on the Home.