The Titans march back onto the field. They had to make a stand, and they had to make it now.
The Coyotes came to the centre of the field, their heads held higher, shoulders pushed further back.
Kenny shifted uneasily and cast his eyes around the rest of his teammates—some of them looked like ghouls out there.
‘SNAP!’ Spider slingshotted a pass to Tank, short and quick. Pete tried to dive low and take out his legs, but Tank just bulldozed right over him and kept on running before more defenders collapsed in on him and finally dragged him down.
The Titans realised it was going to be a LONG 15 minutes.
Each time anyone had to hit Tank to try and tackle him, they’d grow sorer, and recover slower.
They tried to hold out for as long as they could, and while it wasn’t exactly fast, the Coyotes did break them down. Eventually, an unstoppable Tank ran through the endzone, dragging broken bodies along behind him.
The Coyotes bench and their small section of fans cheered boisterously, and each player on the field rallied around Tank. Spider sneered at each Titans player he passed by on his way back to the bench.
There was no spirit behind the Titans’ efforts to disrupt the extra point attempt, and the kick perfectly split the middle of the uprights.
The gap was closing, with the score now reading 20–14. The Coyotes only needed one more touchdown and a successful extra point to take the lead.
Kenny received the kickoff again, and this time he pushed aside all his worries about foul play and ran as hard as his tired legs could carry him.
He weaved his way to the 35-yard line before he was shoved out of bounds and into the waiting arms of Coach Vasquez on the bench.
‘Maximum run, Ken! Great job!’ Coach Vasquez thumped Kenny on the back numerous times before sending him back out onto the field.
The Titans took their time getting set up in their formation. There would be a slight change in the game plan now—they would be expected to run out the clock as much as they could. Even though there was still so much time left, any extra amount that they could use up was a benefit and brought them that little bit closer to victory.
That meant Isaac started off this drive, barrelling ahead fearlessly with a brave, tough run up the middle. Though it only got a few yards this time; his legs were losing strength.
In the coming plays, Kenny fought off his double team as best he could, gritting his teeth as he batted aside groping hands and slipped away from their pressure.
It was hard to find room just to breathe against Ghost and Villain, but he wouldn’t give in. “This is nothing. You’ve faced tougher battles,” Kenny reminded himself. He wasn’t drowning yet.
He caught another pass—a quick slant breaking away from the double team before they could surround him. The play ended with him getting a first down once he was brought to the turf.
Again, they tried running, and while Isaac wasn’t making much progress, he was at least drawing time off the clock.
They kept the short passes up, Lonnie’s big body getting involved with quick catches over the middle as well, but around half field, they’d fall short and have to punt the ball away again.
This time, the call was for them to keep it in bounds, and chase down the returner fiercely. So that while they might expend some energy doing so, the clock could be drained further as well.
‘Don’t give him any time to breathe!’ Coach Otsen had shouted at them. And the Titans didn’t intend to let him down.
Villain was the one waiting to return the punt for the Coyotes. The ball was booted high, and while he was waiting underneath it, just before the moment he had to catch it, he signalled for a fair catch, then caught the ball cleanly on his chest.
Villain grinned as Pete got up in his face. ‘You fucking scared, puta?’ Pete said.
Villain laughed and shoved past Pete, and Kenny came over to drag Pete back to the huddle so they could prepare for another defence.
The Coyotes began moving down the field with a couple of quick first downs one after the other. It looked like the worn-down Titans would still be unable to stop them—the game was slipping from their grasp.
Pete wouldn’t stand for it, there was no way he’d lose to these smug bastards. The next pass was another quick one over the middle for Tank, right in Pete’s area.
Pete launched himself with all his might, and like a cannonball, he crashed into Tank’s chest, shoulder first, just as the big TE was going for the catch.
The indomitable Tank was sent crashing to the floor, and the ball had bounced off his hands to the ground for an incompletion.
Pete’s teammates rallied around him, smacking him on the back and helmet as he stood over Tank.
‘Stay down, basura,’ Pete said before stepping over Tank and walking away.
Tank was eventually helped up by a couple of his teammates. He glared death beams at the back of Pete’s head the whole time he slunk back to his own huddle.
On the next play, Pete was lining Tank up again, and it sure as hell looked like Tank was ready to smash straight through the smaller boy. He was grunting and huffing like a raging bull preparing to gore someone.
‘Snap!’ Spider dropped back to pass, Tank burst forward and Pete rushed to meet him. Then Spider slipped the ball to the RB instead, who ran ahead into the open lane Pete left behind.
Vincent scrambled to stop the RB, and did, though not after the Coyotes had gained 9 yards.
This brought about a crucial third down. The Coyotes only needed one more yard to refresh their downs and continue the drive, and the Titans just needed one more stop before the Coyotes would have to punt the ball back to them.
Pete apologised for getting too focused on Tank and moving out of line. ‘I’ll make it up to you, amigos. Promise,’ he said. He wouldn’t let them get another run like that.
He lined up in position again. Edging closer to the line of scrimmage. The Coyotes only needed 1 yard—surely they’d run it again.
Lonnie watched Pete creeping closer to the ball. He knew what Pete was thinking, they were all thinking the same thing.
The ball was snapped, Spider took it and turned, going to hand it off to the RB again. Pete sprang forward, he had to react to get there quickly and stop them from getting even a single yard.
But when Spider and the RB crossed by one another, Spider came out on the other side with the ball still in his hands. He turned back to face down the field, a grin splayed across his face.
Pete froze in his tracks, but it was too late for him to recover. Tank had slipped into the gap behind Pete, right where Pete SHOULD’VE been.
Spider launched the ball. Tank twisted around to make the catch. Before the ball could meet his hands, he saw, from the corner of his eye, a long, thin arm stretch in front of his face and smack the ball out of the air, knocking it to the ground.
Lonnie had rushed forward to cover for Pete, and made it in time to deflect the pass. It was 4th down, and Coach Kelly had a choice to make on behalf of the Coyotes.
He aired on the side of caution, deciding to trust in his defence to get another stop. So he elected to punt the ball away rather than try to get that single yard again on 4th down.
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After that, the game became a slog. Back and forth, neither team’s offence could get much going before they’d be forced to punt.
It was a heavily contested, defensive battle, and as time dwindled, the score hadn’t changed. When the two-minute warning occurred, and the teams were given a short break to ready themselves for the last push, the Coyotes had the ball within their own territory.
‘Two minutes! You’ve made it so far boys, two minutes. One stop. That’s all you need. Stop those bastards one more time and you’re winners. That’s how close we are!’ Coach Otsen fired the boys up one last time before sending them back out there.
One more stop. It was a whole lot more manageable than the 15 minute speech from the 3rd quarter break. It filled Kenny with a lot of hope, and he was sure the others would feel that fire burning inside them too.
He didn’t know what the Coyotes’ coaches had told their players during that minute of rest, but they all looked fired up too. After all, the entire game came down to here and now. The last, near hour that had come before was meaningless, the game would be decided with this drive alone.
Kenny got in position, fists clenched so tight he thought he might rip through his gloves.
‘SNAP!’
It was another run.
The RB smashed through an attempted tackle and charged ahead for 7 yards. The Coyotes hurried into formation again, forgoing their huddle.
‘Snap!’ Spider screeched again and again as the Coyotes brute forced their way down the field, drawing ever closer and closer to the endzone, and to victory.
The Titans were pushed back towards defeat, their endzone feeling like the edge of a cliff they were being herded towards, doom awaiting them on the jagged rocks and icy waters below.
Kenny stuck to his man like glue, he was happy to give up things underneath in the flat, short gains like that were manageable … but, the rest of the team wasn’t holding up so well.
Tank could only be brought down with 3 people now, and even the Coyotes’ RB was breaking through more tackles, in fact, all of them were harder to bring down… the Titans were out of steam and unfortunately, the Coyotes weren’t out of time just yet.
They kept pushing forward, an unstoppable force as the Titans’ feet skidded off the rocks, almost slipping over that cliff’s edge. Though they were only bending, they hadn’t broken yet.
The Coyotes drained their timeouts as the clock ran down, under a minute, then under 30 seconds. Each time the Titans could catch their breath on the bench, Coach Otsen didn’t have much to say. It was eerie, and more frightening than when he would scream at them.
‘I’ve done all I can,’ he would say. ‘It’s up to you now.’
Kenny wasn’t sure they’d have the legs to do it. His heart wanted to win, wanted it more than anything, but could their bodies hold out for one or two more plays?
The Coyotes made it into the redzone. Kenny had given up a short pass to the outside, shoving the Receiver out of bounds at the 14-yard line, with only nine seconds left, though that stopped the clock.
The Coyotes set up for what could be their final play.
Kenny’s heart pounded within his head, it felt and sounded like his brain was throbbing and beating against the inside of his skull.
In the stands, Jackson held his breath, his sister and mom praying for a Titans victory.
Spider let the play clock run until there was just one second left before he snapped the ball.
Kenny’s man feinted to the inside before cutting out towards the sideline. Kenny stuck to him tightly.
The RB stayed in the backfield, providing extra blocking and protection should Spider need it.
Other Receivers ran deep routes, clearing out the right side of the field, drawing Nick and Lonnie’s attention and focus to that side of the endzone.
And Tank, of course, the true target was Tank, screamed across the middle of the field towards the opposite corner.
Spider flung the ball up high.
Tank would still be a few yards out from a touchdown when he caught it, and Pete was there to maybe even stop the catch from happening at all!
Pete ran forward to meet Tank, his teeth crushed down on his mouthguard as he leapt up. Tank leapt higher, his arms were taller; the ball was in a spot only he could reach.
But Pete could still stop him. It wouldn’t be a touchdown just because Tank caught it.
And catch it Tank did. His hands wrapped securely around the ball, and then Pete’s arms wrapped around HIM.
Pete sunk to the ground, trying to pull Tank down with him. His arms cried out in pain as he tried to move that massive mound of muscle.
Tank stumbled forward but kept his feet. He put his massive hand against Pete’s helmet and shoved the smaller boy into the dirt.
Pete’s arms slipped away from Tank, and Tank charged forward unrestrained … only one thing stood between him and victory …
Freddy.
Freddy was shaking as Tank rolled towards the endzone, ready to crush anything in his path. But Freddy had no time to hesitate, no time to think, he could only move.
His instincts went against everything that was natural, as he rushed towards the dangerous brute instead of away from it. He was the only one who could bring him down now, Freddy was the only thing that could stop the Titans from losing this game.
He threw himself at Tank, latching onto him however and wherever he could. The wind was knocked out of Freddy instantly, but he didn’t let go. He was almost knocked completely aside, but he still clung to Tank’s back, desperately hanging on.
But Tank wasn’t stopping. He wasn’t stopping, Freddy couldn’t bring him down. Tank was so close. He was going to score. The Titans were going to lose!
Freddy tried to dig his cleats into the ground, but even that did nothing. Then… there was only one thing he could think to do, and anything was better than giving up and admitting defeat.
His hand latched onto the back of Tank’s collar. Again, Freddy pulled as hard as he could. Harder than he’d ever tried to do anything ever before in his life.
Tank halted, and his head lurched back before it was catapulted sideways and he tumbled over, slamming helmet first into the ground, less than a yard short of the endzone.
The clock had already hit zero during the play, and the ball had been kept out of the endzone! The game was over. The Titans had won!
Of course, that’s what Freddy hoped, but as he got up, he saw the yellow flags flying. It was to be expected, there’s no way a foul like that could’ve gone unnoticed.
But what did that mean? The game was over, there was no time left. Would they just award the Coyotes the touchdown and the win because of his foul anyway? Had he cost them the game?
The Titans helped Freddy up, and shielded him from a raging Tank, who looked ready to kill the small, gangly boy.
‘Come here! Imma snap you like the twig you are!’ Tank screamed, his own team struggling to hold him back.
Whistles blew and officials got between the two teams to break things apart and make sure no fights got started, while they got things under control.
Almost everyone in the stands and on the field was still confused about what this all meant for the result of the game.
The head official stood away from the chaos and addressed both the audience, as well as the coaches—of whom Coach Otsen and Coach Kelly had come onto the field to figure out what would happen next.
‘First, let me get the penalty out of the way,’ the official said. ‘Personal Foul on the defence, number 00, Horse-Collar tackle. Half the distance to the goalline, added onto the end of the play. As this foul occurred after time expired, the offence will be given one more play.’
Coach Otsen made no protest. He turned his attention towards his players. ‘Hey! Look alive! One more stop, this is it! Get ready! Play like your lives depend on it!’
Coach Kelly stormed back to the sideline, whistling and shouting out orders.
Most of the Receivers for the Coyotes quickly rushed back to the bench, leaving just one out there that Kenny covered all on his lonesome way out on the far side of the field.
Tank moved from his usual TE position, and instead went into the backfield behind even the usual HB, who was now lined up as a FB.
‘Goalline! EVERYBODY! Pack in and stop them!’ Coach Carson ordered, pacing manically along the sideline. The Titans' defence moved in closer, making their trench in the grass right where the endzone was.
The ball was planted only inches away from the endzone. The Titans would have to stop them from moving even an inch forward if they wanted to hold them out. It’d require everyone to hold them back, and Kenny could only sit on the outside and watch with bated breath.
‘SNAP!’ Spider screamed.
Both sides roared and slammed together. Two walls of flesh collided against each other like the greatest sumo match ever seen as they pushed with all their might.
Lonnie raised up over the top, making sure Spider himself couldn’t try to leap over and into the endzone with the ball, but the QB had no intention of doing so.
The Coyotes’ HB ran forward, slamming into the wall and trying to push open a hole, as Tank was handed the ball. Tank charged ahead right behind his teammate and rammed into whatever was in his path without care.
Pete skidded back, along with the rest of the Titans as they tried to hold the Coyotes back. His heart dropped. ‘P-Push!’ he desperately cried.
Freddy ran to support his teammates, crying out at the top of his lungs as he added his might to the hellacious, team effort of trying to hold Tank and the Coyotes back.
The two sides of the war were locked in stalemate for what felt like minutes before the meaty scrum started to collapse in on itself.
Whistles blew furiously as the officials ran in, waving their hands about frantically. Still, no one gave up or stopped their struggle to hold their ground and push forward, even as they piled on top of each other.
Tank was buried somewhere inside, and the ball had vanished under the pile along with him.
Officials pulled bodies off the pile to get to the bottom of it. Kenny ran over to see for himself.
Eventually, the final body was pulled from the pile, and there was the ball. Tank still held it tightly, his arms outstretched. Though three hands from the opposite direction were planted against the ball, holding it back.
Pete, Vincent, and Freddy all had their hands outstretched, pushing the ball away, and keeping it out of the endzone by only a couple of blades of grass.
The officials blew their whistles again and waved the game off. There was no touchdown.
‘This game is over. Titans win!’ they announced, and the silent crowd erupted.