(Chapter 7: The Storm Begins)
The game was going on in full fury, the football players from both sides giving each other an utter pounding. Rudy did his best to utterly obliterate and crush the opposing players, while Clinton launched the football with better accuracy than usual. Still, the score was down and they were losing miserably, 28-7, and the time out that had been called did little to help. The Braiwood Tigers were known for many things, winning was not one of them. Mother Nature herself didn't even seem to support the team, as many could see California's winter storm clouds as they began to roll in, and could feel the air as it chilled and became moist.
Tina kept up as best as she could with the rest of the cheerleading squad, but with the team as it was, there seemed to be no reason. She simply stood by and talked with Sarah in the front row of the bleachers, occasionally waving pom-poms into the air and shrieking out "Braiwood!" whenever her fellow cheerleaders would eye her suspiciously.
"We've lost, again," Tina said.
"Yeah, fifty seconds left, I doubt they could make a comeback even if we promised to flip up our tops," Sarah said.
"I already promised that, didn't work," Tina said.
"Right, who am I kidding, they can all draw your tits from memory," Sarah said with a snicker.
Tina threw a pom-pom at her.
"So, do you miss this?" Tina asked.
"Cheering a losing team, hell no!" Sarah said enthusiastically.
Tina smiled, then continuing, "No, I mean being a part of something, being, happy."
Sarah sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "I'm in a weird place now, I've got to figure some things out."
"And this whole Goth thing?" Tina said, intimating Sarah's new apparel.
"I've been looking around for a new look," Sarah answered.
"Keep looking," Tina said sarcastically.
Up in the stands, Nick was not having fun. He sat in the back row, holding a camera with a telephoto lens and occasionally taking pictures of the players on the field, but there didn't seem to be any point really. He looked to the sky, pitch-black clouds were rolling in from the distance and he could hear some thunder. A cool breeze picked up, and he shivered.
"Can I go home now?" he asked Rhonda as she sat above him, "It's cold and I'm tired. I already got pictures of the memorial and this game sucks, can I please go?"
Rhonda sat on a metal bar that made up the back of the bleachers. It was a balancing act, one that could lead to a thirty-foot fall if done wrong, but she could keep it up. As always, she had her sports jacket on, proudly displaying her name and the "Braiwood Tiger's" on the front, while sporting CRAVEN in big letters on the back. She looked up from her notebook, and down at her trusty photographer.
"Nick, there's only fifty seconds left, who knows, a miracle could happen. The skies could part and rain fire, utterly smiting the other team and we could be given this game by default. Or, an angry flock of birds could get up and tear the eyes out of everyone on the other team. Seeing as how in this crazy world, we still have managed to be here and are alive, I am tending to believe that anything can happen here. So, just watch the game, and hope for the best," she smiled and then half-heartedly kicked Nick back to attention.
"Yes ma'am," he said sheepishly.
He put his eye into the viewfinder, and quickly snapped another shot. You've seriously got to go freelance, he thought.
On the ground, forty feet behind the bleachers, Mike stood in line for the snack bar. He sorted through the change in his hand, seventy, seventy-five, eighty cents. He felt around in his pocket, catching a single crumpled up dollar bill. Excellent, he thought, enough for a root beer and a Hershey's bar. You are in luck tonight, Mike thought with a smile. He looked back, hearing the sounds of the game and the roar of the crowd. Tigers are losing, again, he thought, like that's ever going to change. He could hear the cheerleaders, and he caught a quick glimpse of Sarah through the stands. She looked over, almost on instinct, and their eyes locked. It was only for a split second, one that she broke quickly. She looked away, almost in fear. Mike looked back to the snack stand. She's afraid of you Mike, what happened? As the next person got out of the line with their food in hand, Mike approached the glassed in booth. Ms. Archer, the geometry teacher stood behind a cash box with a wide grin on her face and rosy red cheeks.
"Hiya Mike, what can I get you tonight?" she asked.
He counted out his coins, then speaking, "A root beer and a Hershey's bar please."
"All righty," she said as she turned her back, looking to the rack of snack foods for his selection. He set down his coins on the counter, and felt around inside his pocket for the dollar. It was there just a minute ago, wait, there it is. He shifted his shoulder slightly, but eventually he reached the bill. Pulling it out, he looked to the glass booth again. He was met with the sight of a flock of crows, flying around madly, their reflection caught in the glass. One of them cawed loudly at him. He looked around quickly, there was nothing there, just the sounds and the sights of the game. It was weird, it felt like…
"That will be one dollar and eighty cents please!" Ms. Archer said cheerfully.
"Excuse me?" Mike said, snapping back into things.
"That's one eighty please."
"Oh, sorry," Mike responded. He quickly handed over his money and got his sweets in return. You've got two options Mike, eat your food and leave in peace, or stick around for the dance. He opted for a compromise, making his way to a quiet spot underneath the bleachers. It was loud, but it was well shaded and peaceful, and by no means crowded. Sitting underneath the seats of everyone else, he ate his candy bar and drank from his cup of root beer.
On the visitors side of the field, the families and friends of the San Delgado Titans cheered madly, victory on their mind. Their cheerleaders proudly led their audience in cheers, drowning out the screams of the home team. Their band played wildly, taking a brief intermission to change songs while the teams finished their time outs. Their bandleader, an aging, fat man by the name of Mr. Myers stood proudly before his well-trained army of band geeks and losers, or so he thought.
"Congratulations everyone, victory is at hand, now why don't we step things up a bit. Page five everyone, and a one, and a two, and a…" he trailed off, bringing his conductors baton high and getting everyone in the groove. The music was lively and bouncy, The Beach Boys song resonating loudly and proudly with the audience.
"I wish we had a band that actually cared," Tina said.
"We do, it's just that, they don't," Sarah said.
"My point exactly," Tina said, driving her point home.
Sarah would have focused more on her friends snide remark, but something just wasn't right, she had an odd feeling that she hadn't felt since the incident.
"What song is that?" Sarah asked.
"Huh?" Tina asked, not hearing her friends question.
"What song is that? It's familiar, sounds old, and you listen to all that old crap."
Tina took a few moments to get the beat down, listening to it, before her face brightened up and she spoke with her usual bubbly enthusiasm, "Easy, Beach Boys classic. Help Me Rhonda. Why? Take up an interest in my old music?"
Still feeling the sense of dread, Sarah looked around in the stands, looking feverishly for Rhonda. There she was, bright as day, sitting on the back railing of the top of the bleachers. Her orange and black jacket was a giveaway.
"There's something wrong with this picture," Sarah said to herself. She shivered as the winds picked up, and she looked to the sky as the clouds rolled in darker. A single bolt of lightning streaked horizontally across the sky, radiating outwards like a spiders web. Within a manner of seconds, it let out with a booming clap of thunder, surprising everyone in the stadium.
Humans weren't the only ones surprised by the display of natures fury. It set dogs barking and cats howling with its noise, as well as disrupting a flock of crows who had been bathing in a puddle on the visitors side of the stadium. Spooked, they took to the air, instantly buffeted by the winds. They fought the wind, sailing low across the stadium, over the field, coming so low to the point where a player could have reached a bird had they put their hand up. It was then that the players set up a play, Rudy tackled the other teams quarterback. The ball flew free of his hands, where the gentle giant Rudy bounded over, picking it up. The flock of crows that was flying straight into the bleachers had to fly upwards to avoid the standing ovation that the Tigers received.
Rhonda was scrawling notes in one of her many notebooks, sketching a smiley face in the margins, when she heard the crowd roar and saw them stand. She looked up from the book, and into a large group of jet-black birds flying her way. They were cawing and flying around madly with absolutely no direction. They flew by her, giving her a sense of motion that she didn't know. Their simple flying all around her was enough to take her off guard, and take her off balance enough. She fell backwards, her whole world tilting on end. She fell through air, viewing the whole incident as if it were in slow motion. She screamed, rotating her body on the way down so that she looked down at the ground as it met her face. With moments left in her life, she could swear that she saw a skull quickly flash before her face.
She hit the ground hard, instantly breaking her neck and ending her life. Blood ran freely from her nose and ears. Her body lay in a heap, the legs twitching slightly before going completely limp. Sitting underneath the bleachers, enjoying his highly sugared snack foods, Mike saw the whole scene unfold. He spit out his root beer and looked at the body.
"Holy shit!" he yelled excitedly. He got up, approaching the body. Then he could hear the screams. He looked up, people were looking over the edge of the railing at the accident that had happened.
"Someone call 911!" was all Mike could yell.
People rushed in from the field, the word spread fast. The coach, the team, and the cheerleaders. Tina let out a scream when she saw Rhonda's corpse lying on the ground. Several others joined her.
The game was going on in full fury, the football players from both sides giving each other an utter pounding. Rudy did his best to utterly obliterate and crush the opposing players, while Clinton launched the football with better accuracy than usual. Still, the score was down and they were losing miserably, 28-7, and the time out that had been called did little to help. The Braiwood Tigers were known for many things, winning was not one of them. Mother Nature herself didn't even seem to support the team, as many could see California's winter storm clouds as they began to roll in, and could feel the air as it chilled and became moist.
Tina kept up as best as she could with the rest of the cheerleading squad, but with the team as it was, there seemed to be no reason. She simply stood by and talked with Sarah in the front row of the bleachers, occasionally waving pom-poms into the air and shrieking out "Braiwood!" whenever her fellow cheerleaders would eye her suspiciously.
"We've lost, again," Tina said.
"Yeah, fifty seconds left, I doubt they could make a comeback even if we promised to flip up our tops," Sarah said.
"I already promised that, didn't work," Tina said.
"Right, who am I kidding, they can all draw your tits from memory," Sarah said with a snicker.
Tina threw a pom-pom at her.
"So, do you miss this?" Tina asked.
"Cheering a losing team, hell no!" Sarah said enthusiastically.
Tina smiled, then continuing, "No, I mean being a part of something, being, happy."
Sarah sighed, shrugging her shoulders, "I'm in a weird place now, I've got to figure some things out."
"And this whole Goth thing?" Tina said, intimating Sarah's new apparel.
"I've been looking around for a new look," Sarah answered.
"Keep looking," Tina said sarcastically.
Up in the stands, Nick was not having fun. He sat in the back row, holding a camera with a telephoto lens and occasionally taking pictures of the players on the field, but there didn't seem to be any point really. He looked to the sky, pitch-black clouds were rolling in from the distance and he could hear some thunder. A cool breeze picked up, and he shivered.
"Can I go home now?" he asked Rhonda as she sat above him, "It's cold and I'm tired. I already got pictures of the memorial and this game sucks, can I please go?"
Rhonda sat on a metal bar that made up the back of the bleachers. It was a balancing act, one that could lead to a thirty-foot fall if done wrong, but she could keep it up. As always, she had her sports jacket on, proudly displaying her name and the "Braiwood Tiger's" on the front, while sporting CRAVEN in big letters on the back. She looked up from her notebook, and down at her trusty photographer.
"Nick, there's only fifty seconds left, who knows, a miracle could happen. The skies could part and rain fire, utterly smiting the other team and we could be given this game by default. Or, an angry flock of birds could get up and tear the eyes out of everyone on the other team. Seeing as how in this crazy world, we still have managed to be here and are alive, I am tending to believe that anything can happen here. So, just watch the game, and hope for the best," she smiled and then half-heartedly kicked Nick back to attention.
"Yes ma'am," he said sheepishly.
He put his eye into the viewfinder, and quickly snapped another shot. You've seriously got to go freelance, he thought.
On the ground, forty feet behind the bleachers, Mike stood in line for the snack bar. He sorted through the change in his hand, seventy, seventy-five, eighty cents. He felt around in his pocket, catching a single crumpled up dollar bill. Excellent, he thought, enough for a root beer and a Hershey's bar. You are in luck tonight, Mike thought with a smile. He looked back, hearing the sounds of the game and the roar of the crowd. Tigers are losing, again, he thought, like that's ever going to change. He could hear the cheerleaders, and he caught a quick glimpse of Sarah through the stands. She looked over, almost on instinct, and their eyes locked. It was only for a split second, one that she broke quickly. She looked away, almost in fear. Mike looked back to the snack stand. She's afraid of you Mike, what happened? As the next person got out of the line with their food in hand, Mike approached the glassed in booth. Ms. Archer, the geometry teacher stood behind a cash box with a wide grin on her face and rosy red cheeks.
"Hiya Mike, what can I get you tonight?" she asked.
He counted out his coins, then speaking, "A root beer and a Hershey's bar please."
"All righty," she said as she turned her back, looking to the rack of snack foods for his selection. He set down his coins on the counter, and felt around inside his pocket for the dollar. It was there just a minute ago, wait, there it is. He shifted his shoulder slightly, but eventually he reached the bill. Pulling it out, he looked to the glass booth again. He was met with the sight of a flock of crows, flying around madly, their reflection caught in the glass. One of them cawed loudly at him. He looked around quickly, there was nothing there, just the sounds and the sights of the game. It was weird, it felt like…
"That will be one dollar and eighty cents please!" Ms. Archer said cheerfully.
"Excuse me?" Mike said, snapping back into things.
"That's one eighty please."
"Oh, sorry," Mike responded. He quickly handed over his money and got his sweets in return. You've got two options Mike, eat your food and leave in peace, or stick around for the dance. He opted for a compromise, making his way to a quiet spot underneath the bleachers. It was loud, but it was well shaded and peaceful, and by no means crowded. Sitting underneath the seats of everyone else, he ate his candy bar and drank from his cup of root beer.
On the visitors side of the field, the families and friends of the San Delgado Titans cheered madly, victory on their mind. Their cheerleaders proudly led their audience in cheers, drowning out the screams of the home team. Their band played wildly, taking a brief intermission to change songs while the teams finished their time outs. Their bandleader, an aging, fat man by the name of Mr. Myers stood proudly before his well-trained army of band geeks and losers, or so he thought.
"Congratulations everyone, victory is at hand, now why don't we step things up a bit. Page five everyone, and a one, and a two, and a…" he trailed off, bringing his conductors baton high and getting everyone in the groove. The music was lively and bouncy, The Beach Boys song resonating loudly and proudly with the audience.
"I wish we had a band that actually cared," Tina said.
"We do, it's just that, they don't," Sarah said.
"My point exactly," Tina said, driving her point home.
Sarah would have focused more on her friends snide remark, but something just wasn't right, she had an odd feeling that she hadn't felt since the incident.
"What song is that?" Sarah asked.
"Huh?" Tina asked, not hearing her friends question.
"What song is that? It's familiar, sounds old, and you listen to all that old crap."
Tina took a few moments to get the beat down, listening to it, before her face brightened up and she spoke with her usual bubbly enthusiasm, "Easy, Beach Boys classic. Help Me Rhonda. Why? Take up an interest in my old music?"
Still feeling the sense of dread, Sarah looked around in the stands, looking feverishly for Rhonda. There she was, bright as day, sitting on the back railing of the top of the bleachers. Her orange and black jacket was a giveaway.
"There's something wrong with this picture," Sarah said to herself. She shivered as the winds picked up, and she looked to the sky as the clouds rolled in darker. A single bolt of lightning streaked horizontally across the sky, radiating outwards like a spiders web. Within a manner of seconds, it let out with a booming clap of thunder, surprising everyone in the stadium.
Humans weren't the only ones surprised by the display of natures fury. It set dogs barking and cats howling with its noise, as well as disrupting a flock of crows who had been bathing in a puddle on the visitors side of the stadium. Spooked, they took to the air, instantly buffeted by the winds. They fought the wind, sailing low across the stadium, over the field, coming so low to the point where a player could have reached a bird had they put their hand up. It was then that the players set up a play, Rudy tackled the other teams quarterback. The ball flew free of his hands, where the gentle giant Rudy bounded over, picking it up. The flock of crows that was flying straight into the bleachers had to fly upwards to avoid the standing ovation that the Tigers received.
Rhonda was scrawling notes in one of her many notebooks, sketching a smiley face in the margins, when she heard the crowd roar and saw them stand. She looked up from the book, and into a large group of jet-black birds flying her way. They were cawing and flying around madly with absolutely no direction. They flew by her, giving her a sense of motion that she didn't know. Their simple flying all around her was enough to take her off guard, and take her off balance enough. She fell backwards, her whole world tilting on end. She fell through air, viewing the whole incident as if it were in slow motion. She screamed, rotating her body on the way down so that she looked down at the ground as it met her face. With moments left in her life, she could swear that she saw a skull quickly flash before her face.
She hit the ground hard, instantly breaking her neck and ending her life. Blood ran freely from her nose and ears. Her body lay in a heap, the legs twitching slightly before going completely limp. Sitting underneath the bleachers, enjoying his highly sugared snack foods, Mike saw the whole scene unfold. He spit out his root beer and looked at the body.
"Holy shit!" he yelled excitedly. He got up, approaching the body. Then he could hear the screams. He looked up, people were looking over the edge of the railing at the accident that had happened.
"Someone call 911!" was all Mike could yell.
People rushed in from the field, the word spread fast. The coach, the team, and the cheerleaders. Tina let out a scream when she saw Rhonda's corpse lying on the ground. Several others joined her.