Bab 155: Killshot
'No… what just happened?' Jackson slumped back in his seat.
'Because it happened to us, something really, REALLY bad,' Tommy said.
'Well I'll be… that was some play now, wasn't it boys?' Dad asked. The boys remained silent, jaws clenched.
'If...If the stinky Sentinels can score that easy, then so can the Titans!' Chrissy said.
'That's exactly right, honey,' Mom said.
"Just one play. That's all they need." Jackson tried to tell himself this, but he couldn't swallow the lie.
On the field, the Titans hung their heads. As the Sentinels prepared for the extra-point, Rudy walked through the Titans' formation, shoving his discouraged teammates. 'Hey. This shit ain't over. If they want a shootout, I'll give 'em one. I don't know about you shits, but I don't plan on losing.'
'Fuck you,' Pete said. 'We ain't losing.'
Rudy looked back with a smirk. 'Then get me the ball. I'll drag us to the end zone. We just have to stop them after.'
The Sentinels' extra point was successful, pushing the score to 17–7, but one extra point didn't faze the Titans.
The Sentinels blasted the kick-off to Rudy, who took the ball out to the 30-yard line before the Sentinels crunched him in a tackle. Freddy was the only one to come over and help him up.
The Titans shuffled into their formation. Pete looked at Rudy, then around the rest of the team. They couldn't fall behind. They had to keep up with the Sentinels and keep the game close.
They snapped the ball. Rudy didn't care if he didn't have the speed to get by Rogers, he didn't need it when he had the size advantage. "I'll just Moss this bitch."
He pushed through the press and sprinted down the sideline. Pete bought time with Play-Action, and when Bryce charged, Isaac took out his legs.
Pete scanned the field for a few seconds before snapping back to his true goal: Rudy and Rogers. He launched the ball deep, lobbing it high to give Rudy the best chance possible.
Rudy twisted around to face the ball. He wasn't in the best position, but if he could just—Rogers cut him off, jumping up in front of him. Rogers had the best read on the ball, and it was floating right towards him.
Rudy had to go on the defensive. All thoughts of catching the ball himself evaporated. All he could do was stop Rogers from snagging an interception. He extended one hand and slapped the ball away, dragging Rogers down with him as they crashed to earth.
Rudy winced, but Rogers shrugged the landing off. He stood and looked back at Rudy, dusting himself off. 'Don't test me again,' he said.
Rudy glared after him as they returned to their huddles. 'Cocky motherfucker.' He looked at Pete. 'Higher man, get it over the top, he's gonna try to cut off everything, so just go over his head, I'll get it.'
Pete didn't look too confident, but he nodded. The huddle broke away and Pete returned to the Line. He took a deep breath, and they snapped the ball.
Bryce was back on Pete's blindside, of course, Lonnie was still matching him, but this time he lined up much further outside of even Lonnie.
Again, Pete and Isaac faked a hand-off. Rudy dashed down the sideline, still closely covered by Rogers. Pete only glanced at him before turning to the opposite side of the field.
Kenny was against Concrete, and even with Concrete backing off, Kenny was going to beat him with speed. If Kenny could just get beyond him, nobody would be in his path to stop him from scoring.
Pete dropped back, waiting. Just a bit further, Kenny was almost there. He was almost at the limit of his passing range. He pulled his arm back.
Bryce had gone WIDE on his blitz. Lonnie had given him a helping shove before dashing out to the flat, but Bryce angled back in sharply. His looping arc, like a scythe, was too wide for the Tackle to get in his way, but not so wide that he missed his mark and Pete could avoid him—Maybe if Pete had been more aware, maybe if he saw Bryce coming, maybe if he wasn't already in his throwing motion he could've stepped up.
'Look out!' Jackson shouted. It was a collective cry from all the Titans' fans and the coaches, too. It was a warning that came too late for Pete.
Just before Pete's arm started forward, Bryce clobbered his elbow, jarring the ball loose. Pete's hand closed around air, and the ball wobbled out of his grasp and into the air. A loud cry of "FUMBLE" came from the field and the Sentinels' stands.
It was chaos. There was a moment of stillness where everyone looked for the wild, loose ball. Vincent saw it, he lurched towards it, then Zane came racing past like a jet. He dove onto the loose ball like a sacrificial hero diving on a live grenade, and smothered it, curling around it so completely that the ball vanished.
Vincent recovered from his shock and flopped onto Zane. Owen dove too. Then came more Sentinels and Titans, piling atop one another, spilling aside as whistles blew in the background. Titans fought for the ball, Sentinels fought to protect Zane. When the dust settled, and the officials tore the pile apart, Zane stood, ball raised high.
'No way. That can't be real.' Jackson got out of his seat. 'His arm was moving forward! That's an incomplete pass, not a fumble! Please let it be a pass.'
'Jackie, sweetie…' Mom leaned over, rubbing his back.
Jackson's prayers went unheard amidst the deafening cheers from the other side of the stands. The officials confirmed it was a fumble and that the Sentinels now had the ball.
'The Titans can come back from this,' Dad said.
'They WILL,' Tommy affirmed. The words echoed in Jackson's head.
The Titans had no time to wallow, no time to rewrite history or think of what they could've done differently to prevent the turnover.
Pete crouched in the huddle, all eyes on him, though he couldn't meet any of them. As the QB, he was accustomed to all the attention, but he'd never get used to those looks after a turnover—the disappointment, the hate, even the pity—were things he couldn't face.
He rubbed his elbow. The blow had given him a stinger. A numb, tingling sensation spread around his elbow, but it wasn't jarred or dislocated thankfully.
He stood up, sighing. 'Joder.' He looked around the huddle. 'I fucked up. But we ain't getting the ball back by bitching and moaning. Let's go hit these fuckers in the teeth.'
'That's more fucking like it,' Rudy said. 'Just hold on to the fucking ball when we get it back.'
'Game's not over yet,' Lonnie said as he lumbered into position.
Vincent hunched down at the Line. He looked past his opposing Linemen, staring straight at Zane. That fucker was too fast … or maybe Vincent was too slow. If he didn't hesitate when he saw the ball, if he didn't worry about how much effort it'd take to dive on it, then get back up … it still could've been the Titans' possession. "I have to win it back."
Everything seemed to go according to the Sentinels' plan. That's how they carried themselves, as if they'd seen everything and knew what to expect.
At the height of the crowds' ecstatic roars, the Sentinels snapped the ball. Vincent charged forward, almost flattening his opponent right away. Zane turned away as Vincent opened a lane, but before he could stop the hand-off, Bryce took him out from the side.
Like a freight train, Bryce demolished Vincent and kept on rumbling past. Ash took the ball as Bryce Pulled from his usual spot and cut across the Line to get to the other edge, leading the way for the run.
Ash followed right behind. Pete rushed down. Like Vincent, he was eager to make up for his earlier mistake, which he believed cost them the ball. However, what he wasn't expecting was for the three hundred and fifty plus pound monster that was Bryce to come racing around the edge of the Line.
Pete fought through his shock and refused to back down. He lowered his shoulder and slammed into Bryce. He would've had better luck running through a brick wall.
Ash scampered away, and it was up to Lonnie to stop him, which he thankfully did, only after 13 yards, however.
The Titans picked themselves up, bruises and all, and prepared for the next play. The Sentinels weren't about to stop running, though for this one, Bryce stayed on his own side. He still bulldozed through whatever was put in front of him, and Ash came away with another 7 yards.
The Sentinels were already nearing another touchdown thanks to the short field from the turnover. It looked like they had elected to ram the ball down their throats as well, as Zane turned for a third hand-off in a row. This one was Play-Action.
Of course, Isaac and Pete had pushed up. They had to if they stood any chance of slowing the run. This opened a nice lane just beyond them for Neanderthal to cross into.
Rudy was still trying to cover off the inside, but he was still playing a step deeper. With Neanderthal's big body, and Rudy's inexperience in the position, it was just enough space for Zane to fire a bullet into Neanderthal's chest where Rudy couldn't reach in time to disrupt the pass.
The Sentinels crept another 9 yards closer to their goal. The Titans panted hard. It felt like, suddenly, the fatigue from the entire game crashed down on their shoulders. The game was slipping further from their grasp, and they knew it.
Kenny knew it too, but the Sentinels hadn't scored yet. They could still stop them; HE could still stop them.
'You're too close.' The voice shocked Kenny. It took him a moment to register where it had come from. It was Rogers. (Who else could it be.) But he'd expected a more … baritone voice, the kind you hear in all the commercials, rather than a voice as weary as he felt, from the blue-eyed, blond-haired Sentinel.
Even then, all he could say was: 'Huh?'
Rogers shook his head. 'Why don't you get it? It's over. You're not even close to our level. Why are you STILL disrespecting us?' The voice had woken up and was angry now. Kenny took a step back without even realising it. 'Too late,' Rogers said. They snapped the ball.
Rogers burst forward. Kenny bumped him, turning to keep up with him. Rogers stared straight ahead, nothing else in his mind except following the route which was to go forward.
Kenny didn't know if it was the fatigue slowing him down, or if Rogers had found another gear, but despite keeping up with him all game, Rogers started pulling away.
Suddenly, Rogers twisted. Like he'd summoned the ball, it appeared over Kenny's head when Rogers stuck his hands up. Kenny flailed, stretching out as he lunged at Rogers and tried to thrust his hand in between Rogers and the ball, but he couldn't reach, Rogers was too far away.
Rogers caught the pass, tumbled over backwards and popped back onto his feet. Kenny crashed face first into the painted grass of the end zone. The crowd trumpeted again. Rogers stood over him. The Sentinels had scored. Soon, they pushed the lead out to 17 points: 24–7.
Jackson watched the scoreboard tick over. He didn't jump out of his seat; he didn't slump further into it, and he didn't argue with the officials. He didn't even offer false, patronising words of encouragement to the Titans, for he no longer had a voice.
His season was over before it could even begin. He wouldn't play any football that season. The Titans were going to lose.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
SeipoltMP
SeipoltMP Ravens thankfully bounced back with another easy win against a shit team ... sorry Giants fans.
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