During all this time, Richie had touched the ball perhaps three times, and when she had received it, she'd moved it on quicker than a schoolteacher leaving for their summer holidays. Constantly aware of Attitude, all the time looking over her shoulder, getting deeper and deeper, further away from the opposition's goal, she'd figured out that her nemesis would only follow her so far, before letting her wander off. So she hung back, unsure of what to do, nursing the ever increasing pain that continued to shoot up the inside of her left knee.
When the ball next went out of bounds on the sideline, Emma and Sue called over to their captain and friend, to check that she was okay. She told them she was. But it wasn't so much the injury that was causing Richie to hang back and not help her team. It was fear. This was the first time she could ever remember being afraid on the lacrosse pitch... or anywhere else come to think of it, and she didn't care for it very much. Every second, deep inside her head she pictured Attitude's sneering face closing in on her, intent on doing her some more harm. Even though she was well back from the opposition's goal, she was constantly aware of where the big defender was. Abruptly, she knelt down on the gorgeous green grass, rubbing the side of her wounded knee carefully. But it was all an act. She could move, even take the pain. But the feelings inside her were something else. Images of the past flooded her mind, reminding her of how fearless and inventive she was, being the one that dragged her team, Salisbridge, out of trouble and on to winning, singlehandedly on more than one occasion. It was hard for her to understand why she felt this way. Something was different. Just as she thought this, the ring she wore on the chain around her neck, the one that Peter had given her to look after, seemed to burn her skin. Leaning forward, allowing the chain to swing away beneath her top, she was surprised to find the burning sensation still there. Taking a peek, she could see the ring was away from her skin, and there were no marks or obvious signs of burning.
'What the hell is going on?' she thought.
But that would have to wait, as the familiar sound of something small and lightning fast whistling through the air towards her, tickled her senses. Automatically she rose to her feet, turning instantly, the head on her stick a submarine's periscope searching for anything out of the ordinary, seeking the danger. Off to her right, the spinning orange ball zipped over her head. With just one hand on her stick, she thrust it out as high as she could, ignoring the spark of pain this caused in her knee. Having captured the ball perfectly she trotted off, not at full speed, but a fast jog, nagged by the unusual sensation, for her at least, of needing to get rid of the ball to a teammate... fast!
Unfortunately for her, there wasn't a single obvious pass on. Her teammates were doing their best, dodging, weaving, cutting inside and out, but none seemed to be able to get free of their marker at the moment. Richie's vision pulled back from her teammates, aware that Attitude was coming out of defence to meet her. Sweat scampered down her spine, her heart rate increased, it felt as though her boots had turned to lead, while all the time a wanting-to-run-away feeling nibbled at the insides of her stomach. In a panic, she threw the ball towards Rachel, one of the Salisbridge midfielders who'd raced up to support play. Unsurprisingly it was a rubbish pass, nowhere near her teammate, and had now allowed the Avalon Avengers to break quickly. About to turn around and head back in the hope that she could help in some way, it was then a hulking great form swung into view. Attitude!
"All your silky skills deserted you today, Tinkerbell?" she all but grunted.
Richie was frozen in terror, unable to speak or even move. It was such a strange and unfamiliar sensation; she had no idea what to do to get rid of it, if indeed she even could. Leaning right up into Richie's face, her nemesis's cloying breath washed over each and every one of the ex-dragon's freckles.
"None of your friends will be able to save you today. Before the day is out, you'll be visiting your city's fancy new hospital." And with that, she turned and plodded back towards her own goal.
Shaking inside and out, Richie wanted nothing more than to see the game end and be able to return to the comfort and safety of her home. Abruptly a shrill whistle forced her thoughts back to the here and now. Looking around, she could see one of the officials signalling for a goal. All the while she'd been caught up with Attitude, her teammates had been defending desperately but to no avail and had conceded a rather cheap goal from a lucky bouncing shot that had cannoned in off the post, leaving goalie Harriet with absolutely no chance.
As Salisbridge made their way back up the pitch, ready once again for the draw, a few of the players could be seen huddling together and their captain had a fair idea she was the subject of their discussions. Sue left the small group and sprinted over to Richie.
"Nobody's going to blame you for going off. If you're injured, you're injured," she stated.
Wanting to go off, more than anything, her comrades' faces caused a swell of emotion to spill out inside her. These were her friends, her teammates. They'd won together, lost together, drunk and dined together. She knew their families, their boyfriends, husbands, children. Tied together in victory and defeat, she was supposed to be their leader, the one they looked to for inspiration, the one they looked up to. And here she was, about to throw in the towel because of one single opposing player. It was all so confusing. But deep down inside her, something primordial, something ingrained in her very DNA screamed at her not to leave the pitch. And against her better judgement, she didn't. Instead, she stepped forward, determined to use her talent to gain control of the draw.
Aligning their sticks, placing the ball between them, the umpire gave a stern "Ready," which drifted across the silent pitch before, seconds later, blowing his whistle loudly. Turning her fear into anger and choosing that to fuel her muscles, Richie's stick powered into action, shooting the ball high above her head, almost exactly as she'd planned. Salisbridge gained possession with a ground ball pick up by midfielder Rachel. Quickly she propelled the ball out wide right to Ali, who caught the ball running full tilt, making this the fastest transition of the game for the home side. Emma had lost her marker and was swinging around behind the goal on the right hand side, with Joey out wide on the left, while Poppy and Sue had almost caught up with play. Ali sidestepped the defender, cutting in and then pulling back at the last moment, darting around the outside, using her momentum and the defender's flat footedness to her advantage. Adjusting her hands along a different part of the shaft, her stick twisted and turned, almost as if it had a life of its own, so much so that the ball itself must have been almost dizzy. Spotting Emma's raised stick behind the goal and off to one side, bending her run perfectly, Ali cast the ball into the path of the onrushing Emma.
Richie's experience told her to hold back, that and the fact that fear still threatened to consume her. Keeping one eye on what Attitude was doing, so far that threatening presence was content with being the extra player over at the back, hoping to double up on any attacker coming through, sure that she'd already done enough to take the former dragon out of the match. It was borderline, that's for sure. Richie was terrified, so much so that if she'd had to think about what was going on, almost certainly she would have frozen up or taken herself off the pitch with her injury. But her response was instinctive, a reaction to all the games she'd played, stimulated by all her accumulated knowledge and shared experiences. For the briefest time, her body almost didn't belong to her but to someone else, her spirit watching her actions from somewhere high above. And precisely at this very second, her body screamed,