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For the next five minutes, things grow steadily more aggressive.
I gnaw on the side of my thumbnail, eyes still jumping between the ice and the screens. The puck flies behind the net, and Ryker speeds after it. He grapples for the puck with one of Maine’s forwards and manages to pass it to Soren, who slaps the puck toward the goal where the goalie stops it again.
Then they’re off, chasing after the puck again.
One of Maine’s defensemen is on Ryker’s heels, so close I’m surprised he doesn’t trip on Ryker’s skates.
Soren gets a hold of the puck and snaps off a shot that bounces against the frame and directly into Ryker’s path. He smoothly slaps it right past Maine’s goalie.
Brighton’s fan section goes wild while the team rush around Ryker, tapping him on the back and cheering.
Five minutes left.
My heart pounds wildly in my chest.
The puck is a blur on the ice.
Ryker has it.
He’s charging forward again.
And then he’s suddenly out of sight.
I blink and look around. Left and right and center ice.
The fuck?
A piercing whistle blows and suddenly everybody on the ice is gathering by the boards on the left side of the rink.
The crowd is up, all trying to see what’s happening. All blocking my view even more.
The cameraman finally seems to locate him.
He’s down.
And he’s not getting up.
He’s clutching his thigh, and it… it looks wrong. Legs are not supposed to bend like that.
There’s a stretcher on the ice and medics all around Ryker.
“That was, like, his thigh, wasn’t it?” some guy shouts from right next to me, and I jump.
But he’s not talking to me. He’s shouting to his friends.
“You think?” the other guy shouts back.
It suddenly feels like I’m trying to breathe underwater. My ears ring, and my pulse thuds on the side of my neck so hard I can feel the skin move there.
If that’s true…
Fuck!
I rush out of the arena with no fucking idea what to do now. I just know I have to get to him. Anything else is unthinkable. I have to see that he’s okay.
It’s once I’m outside that I realize I don’t know which hospital they’re taking him to, and it’s not like there’s a shortage of those around here. I pull out my phone to see where the nearest hospital is, but then… It’s not like they’re going to tell me how he is. Or if he’s there at all.
I clutch my sides and try to think.
