“Chill, bro. This is no time for a ’roid rage.”

“I’m gonna ’roid rage your ass!”

“It ain’t my fault! There was a lot of confusion, you know? I don’t think so good in pressure situations. You didn’t notice it either in the heat of the moment, did you? Logan was kicking up a storm.”

“It might have helped if that mongoloid cousin of yours had helped us restrain him instead of standing in the background with his dick in his hand.”

“For the last time, Elray’s not a mongoloid. He’s just thick.”

“Well, what the hell are we supposed to do now?”

“We need a plan.”

“No shit we need a plan!” As Booker looked around for something else to break, he was suddenly struck with an idea. “Wait a minute. Wait just a damn minute.”

“What is it?”

“You know what we’ve got to do, Manny?”

“I’m listening.”

“We’re gonna have to break out the chain.”

The line went silent.

“You don’t mean … the chain.”

“Shit, yeah. The chain’ll fix all this.”

“You’re serious?”

“We got no other choice.”

“Last time we brought out the chain, someone nearly got kilt.”

“Exactly. And if we’re lucky, someone will nearly get killed again. Know what I’m saying?”

“It’s pretty risky, bro.”

Booker considered this. The chain was risky and a difficult thing to pull off alone. “I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do, Manny. I’m gonna bring the whole damn team into our operation.”

“You think they’ll do it?”

“Hell yeah, they’ll do it. This is in their best interest as much as ours. No one on this team can afford anything less than total victory. Have you forgotten Brackenwall?”

“Booker, don’t. Please.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t say that word. We all agreed never to mention Brackenwall again. It’s in the past. We buried it. I don’t want to talk about that shit ever again.”

“Fine. But I can promise you the memory of it will ensure the rest of the guys’ participation. Trust me.”

CHAPTER 11

JIMMY Hickham was the only head coach in the district who arrived at visiting fields with a fully dressed and padded team. He had been quoted as saying that dressing for away games in a home locker room carried a psychological advantage, offering players a home-field mentality during their pregame preparation. It was a custom that had begun early in his career and been sustained throughout.

It was now a quarter of six. Dusk had fallen, and the rainfall could be heard through the ceiling of the Killington High School locker room as the players suited up.