Creature Read Online Free PDF Page A

the game. Resisting her impulse to glance at her watch once again, she shifted her slightly overweight body into a more comfortable position on the hard bench and turned her attention to the field, where the Wolverines, in possession of the ball, were poised on their own thirty-yard line. And knowing the team as well as she did, she decided it might just be worth watching. Phil Collins always liked his boys to keep up their drive till the final seconds ran out. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if the team scored yet again before it was all over.
    And no one else in the stands—which held practically everyone in town—was showing any sign of leaving early. Jerry was right, as he usually was: There was no point in leaving now.
       On the field Jeff LaConner quickly outlined the play he had in mind, then clapped his hands to signal the end of the huddle. He trotted into his quarterback position as the rest of the team fell into their places along and behind the scrimmage line. He glanced at the Fairfield team and smiled to himself as they prepared themselves for what they were certain was going to be a passing play.
    They were in for a surprise.
    A moment later the center snapped the ball and Jeff fadedback, glancing around as if searching for a receiver. Then, tucking the ball under his arm, he ducked his head and charged the line.
    Ahead of him the center and both guards had opened up a slot, and Jeff hurled himself toward it. To his left he sensed a flash of movement, but instead of dodging away from it, he threw himself toward it. He saw one of the Fairfield tackles tumble aside. Directly ahead two more Fairfield players were lunging at him, and he knew he was going down. But as one of the guards hurled himself at Jeff’s legs, Jeff twisted sharply then let himself collapse, dropping his full 220 pounds onto the much smaller frame of his opponent. Another of the Fairfield players dropped on top of him, and at the same time three of his own teammates joined in the melee. The whistle blew, and Jeff lay still, certain that he had gained at least seven yards on the play. A moment later the players began sorting themselves out and Jeff scrambled to his feet, leaving the ball where it lay.
    The player from Fairfield, on whom Jeff had dropped at the moment he was tackled, lay still, and a gasp rose from the crowd. Jeff looked down for a moment, his brow creased into a frown, then dropped to his knees.
    “Hey, you okay?”
    There was no answer from the other boy, but Jeff could clearly see his open eyes through the bars of his helmet.
    He stood up and waved to the Silverdale coach, but Phil Collins was already shouting for a stretcher team. From the other side of the field Bob Jenkins, the Fairfield coach, was racing toward him from the sidelines.
    “I saw that!” Jenkins yelled as he dropped to his knees next to his injured player. “For Christ’s sake—he had you! You didn’t have to drop on him like that!”
    Jeff stared at the Fairfield coach. “I didn’t do anything,” he protested. “All I did was try to get away from him.”
    Jenkins only glared at him, then turned his attention to the boy, who still lay unmoving on the ground. “You okay, Ramirez?”
    The boy said nothing, and then the stretcher team was there. Two boys from Silverdale started to reach out for the fallen guard, but Jenkins stopped them. “Don’t touch him,” he said. “I want a doctor. I want to know what’s wrong with him before he’s moved.”
    “We’ve got a doctor right here, and there’s an ambulance on its way,” Phil Collins said, dropping down onto the grass next to Jenkins. “Can you tell if anything’s broken?”
    “How the hell do I know?” Jenkins demanded, his angry eyes fixing on the Silverdale coach. “I’m gonna file a complaint this time, Collins. And I want that player on the bench for the rest of the season.”
    “Now, cool off, Bob,” Collins replied. His fingers began running gently over the injured