Chapter 102: Win or go home
Kayden
"Welcome back to the final twenty minutes of what has been, without a doubt, the most grueling defensive battle of the post-season!" The commentators’ voices boomed through the overhead speakers, echoing off the rafters of the Iron City Arena as both teams came opposite one another.
"We are live from a deafening stadium where the air is thick enough to cut with a skate blade. It’s been a crazy week, and now we are on Game 7 and the tension is off the charts."
The crowd went wild as the Southern Stallions waved toward them. I could feel the vibrations in my teeth as I skated toward the center circle.
"You’re right, Mike," the second commentator chimed in, voice amplified throughout the arena during the final seconds before puck drop. "The Stallions haven’t knocked the Northern Avalanche out of the playoffs in nearly a decade. If they pull this off tonight, it will shift the balance of this rivalry."
"And all eyes are on rookie Kayden Vale," the first voice continued, louder now. "He led the Avalanche in goals this season. With Rhys Calder sidelined and Miller Reid still recovering, the weight of this franchise rests on his shoulders. This is the kind of night that defines careers."
I tuned the rest of their words out, focusing on the cold air filling my lungs.
My chest felt tight from all the exhaustion I had faced in the last week, but then I remembered Rhys’s words and the necklace he had given me.
I placed a hand on it and heaved a deep sigh. I gripped my stick hard and looked behind me to see Jaxson Vane and Luca Rossi lined up beside me, ready for the puck to drop.
"Let’s do this," I murmured to them as the referee stepped into the circle, holding the black puck tight in his hand.
"Look at this," Leon sneered across from me. He wiped a streak of sweat from his forehead and let out a harsh, mocking laugh that cut through the roar of the crowd. "This was what I meant when I said Northern Avalanche is nothing without Rhys. If he were here, we wouldn’t have made it to Game 7. It would have ended in Game 4!" He pointed his stick at me. "You are losing today, Vale. It’s over. We are kicking the Northern Avalanche out of the games."
"He’s right," the Stallions’ center added with a grin, leaning in so close I could smell the Gatorade on his breath. "Without Rhys Calder, the Northern Avalanche is nothing. This is ours."
Leon chuckled again, letting out a confident, ugly sound. "Go ahead and cry now, rookie. It’ll save time later."
I felt a surge of heat crawl up my neck, but it wasn’t from fear; it was from pure adrenaline.
My teammates sneered back at them, ready to respond, but I stopped them and spoke up.
"You really think you’re going to beat us, Leon?" I asked, reaching up with my gloved hand for a split second, pressing the silver star pendant against my chest through the fabric of my jersey.
I looked Leon dead in the eye, my expression hardening into something cold. "I have to say that you talk a lot for someone who’s about to be on vacation," I scoffed, and let a jagged laugh of my own escape my throat.
"The only ones losing today are the Stallions. I believe in this team and know that we are truly going to win," I told him, and my teammates all whistled in agreement.
"So keep laughing, stupid Leon," I spat and grinned at him again. "Because after this period, we are headed to the Conference Finals and then to the Stanley Cup Finals. We will be sending you back home to play golf. Pack your clubs, old man, because..." I whispered the last words. "You are done!"
The smirk wiped clean off Leon’s face, replaced by a flash of genuine irritation. He hadn’t expected me to bite back, he didn’t learn the last time.
Before he could reply, the whistle blew, the puck hit the ice, and it started.
I pressed my finger on the necklace again and started to move.
Leon lunged immediately, his massive frame swinging like a wrecking ball to pin me against the boards, but I didn’t let him. I saw him coming for me and sliced through the circle, winning the draw.
"We are on to a start! Vale wins the draw! Look at the kid go!" The commentator’s voice sounded over the speakers.
I felt the wind whistle through the vents of my helmet as I transitioned into a crossover.
A Stallion’s defenseman stepped up to gap me, raising his stick to poke the puck, but I pulled it back into a tight toe-drag, the black disk dancing on the edge of my blade. Then I did a full 360-degree pivot that left him lunging at thin air.
"Is that Kayden Vale or a ghost out there?" Commentator 2 yelled. "That was a crazy move and he did it well."
A smile spread across my face hearing the comments about me. Even though my lungs burned and my breath felt like it was on fire, I knew everyone’s eyes were on me, especially Rhys’s, and I had to prove myself.
I saw Jaxson streaking down the left wing and faked a cross-ice pass, drawing the Stallions’ goalie toward the far post. That gave me the chance to move forward toward the net, but Leon returned, his face contorted in a snarl as he came at me with a heavy shoulder check. It was a hit meant to end my season right there.
I lowered my center of gravity, bracing for the impact as our shoulders collided with a bone-jarring thud that sent a shockwave up my spine, but I didn’t go down. Instead, I used his own momentum to spin off the hit, and he went down.
"Huge hit by Leon, but Vale stays on his feet! Leon ended up falling and Vale still got the puck. The kid is possessed!"
I heaved a deep sigh as I got to the O-zone and looked back to see the Stallions looming towards me.
The crowd was screaming. I could feel Coach Reddick’s eyes on me as he paced around and screamed my name. "Go on, boy!"
I heaved another deep sigh and faced the front, and I saw the opening. It was a tiny, flickering gap over the goalie’s glove side, and I didn’t think, nor did I hesitate.
The roar of the Iron City crowd became a dull hum, replaced by the thundering beat of my own heart against the silver star pendant.
Everyone was on standby, watching.
My vision narrowed and I looked toward the goalie again, who was challenging me, cutting down the angle until there was nothing left but a sliver of daylight over his left shoulder.
I can do this, I muttered, and then remembered Rhys’s words. "Go out there and play like the Kayden Vale I know."
The words replayed in my head as I felt the flex of my stick shifting under my weight.
I snapped my wrists with everything I had left and released the pain and exhaustion I had felt all week.
"He snaps it!" the commentator screamed.
I panted for breath as the puck soared toward the crossbar, my heart pounding hard in my chest as I stared where it headed. In that split second, the roar of Iron City died away and I saw the goalie lunge towards it just as the puck reached the goal line.