Page 3 of The Off Limits Captain
The anthem ends. The lights settle.
Frost Bank Center rises around me in crimson and gold, the whole building pressing toward the ice.
This is not a crowd that comes to watch hockey.
They come to witness it.
They come to see the San Antonio Stampede destroy the Ridgebacks.
Game time.
I take the opening draw.
Across from me, the Ridgebacks captain smiles like he has brought a match to a gas station.
“Long night, McAllister.”
I set my blade. “For you.”
The puck drops.
I snap it right back to Kowalski.
After that, the game hits fast.
First shift, the Ridgebacks dump deep behind Kowalski exactly the way Evan predicted. Their winger finishes hard through the boards. Kowalski absorbs it, moves the puck up the wall, and I cut low to give him an outlet.
Bench noise rises behind me.
“Wheel, wheel!”
“Reverse!”
“Time!”
I take the puck off the wall, chip it to Zach, and drive through the neutral zone. Zach hits Colt with speed. Colt cuts wide, drags the defender with him, and drops the puck to me in the high slot.
Shot.
Pad save.
Rebound loose.
Finn crashes the crease like a man trying to prove geometry is optional. The goalie covers before Finn can jab it free.
Tolland shoves Finn in the back of the head after the whistle.
Finn turns, but I get there first.
I put my stick across Finn’s chest and drive him backward before the rookie can drop a glove.
“Skate away.”
“He hit me.”
“I have eyes.”
“Then use them.”
