Chapter Three: Eighteen Catches and an Invoice from the Future

It was not temporary forgetfulness. The door was gone. “Lin!” Eli shouted from the line. “Get set!” Twelve seconds. Lin forced himself back into the game. Empire expected a spike to stop the clock, but Eli took the snap and immediately threw toward the sideline. Lin ran a six-yard out, made the catch, and stepped out of bounds. Seven seconds. The ball rested at the Empire six-yard line. The Storm finally had time to huddle. Grant’s voice entered Eli’s helmet. “Play twenty-one. Tight end is primary. Lin sells the inside route.” Eli looked at Lin. “Can you run?” Lin’s ribs hurt. His left wrist burned. A small section of his mind felt hollow. He looked at the scoreboard. [LIVE DEFEAT PROBABILITY: 96.4%.]