Carter Quinn felt it first in his legs, and then in his lower back. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force himself to ignore it, but the burning agony was growing more intense with the passing of every fraction of a second. It was overwhelming him. Beads of sweat rolling off his forehead, he gulped down a breath of air and tried to focus. Before long, though, the pain had spread like wildfire to his chest and shoulders and lungs. His vision blurred, and his pounding heart felt like it was about to explode. He was dying. Hating to surrender to the inevitable, desperate not to give in, he did the only thing he could think of.

He screamed.

It was no ordinary scream. It was more like the howl of a wild beast, the release of dark primal forces hiding somewhere deep within. Had he somehow been able to hear it from outside of himself, Carter would not have recognized the blood-curdling sound as something of his own. It was as if it belonged to someone, or something, else.Whatever its source, whomever it belonged to, the scream had the desired effect. Carter arched his head back and slowly, agonizingly, extended his legs, hoisting the bar resting across his shoulders, and the stacks of iron plates it carried, to its acme. The final repetition of his squat workout complete, he set the bar down with a crash on the squat rack and backed away. His legs going wobbly, he staggered to a nearby bench and collapsed on it, oblivious to the other gym patrons, who had momentarily paused their workouts to gawk at him. Satisfied to see that someone had not just died beneath a pile of metal plates, they turned back to their own workouts, and the room soon regained its former hum of activity.

Gazing blankly at the floor, Carter rested there on the bench, elbows on knees, head drooping forward, until a towel flew across the room and caught him full in the face.

“You, Carter Quinn,” said the flinger of the towel, “are one sick mother.”

“Oh yeah, Jimmy?” panted Carter, taking the towel and wiping it across his brow. “What makes you say so?”

“You work out like an animal,” Jimmy laughed. “That’s what makes me say so.”

“I’m just trying to get in shape.”

Jimmy opened his arms wide and gestured at the rest of the gym. “Hey, take a look around you,” he said. “Everybody’s in here to get in shape, but nobody else tortures themselves like you do. You’re the only one that’s trying to kill himself. It’s sick. Whatta you do it for, anyway?”

Carter shrugged, and flipped the towel around the back of his neck.

“What can I say?” he replied. “The fall rugby season’s only a couple of months away. I’ve gotta be ready if I want to play for Providence this year.”