Deep Zone

by Tim Green

  The motor coughed and sputtered.

  As it did the first time, blue smoke filled the air.

  Lightning hit so close, even Tate jumped.

  The motor went quiet.

  Ty closed his eyes, crossed his fingers, and said a prayer.

  Chapter Forty-nine

  ANOTHER PULL, AND THE motor let out a single cough, no bigger than the sound of a small child clearing his throat.

  Gumbo brightened. He bent over and gave the cord still another tug.

  The engine sputtered, coughed, and kept coughing. Gumbo fanned the smoke from his face and fiddled with a knob on the engine. The coughing continued, growing stronger by the second. Finally, Gumbo cranked the throttle, revving it to life with a roar that rose and fell like a siren. More raindrops fell, but after a clank of gears, the boat took off, its bow rising steadily as Gumbo made for the creek.

  The mangrove canopy shielded them from the big drops. They soon hit the canal, then zipped into the other creek. When they hit the main canal, the Florida Grand glowed at them through what had become a steady rain. Ty’s heart soared. Even though the bolts of lightning had grown ever closer, he knew they would outrun the most dangerous part of the storm.

  Gumbo guided the boat into its slip with expert skill, reversing at just the right moment so that the boat touched the dock with a gentle kiss. They hopped out of the boat, and Tate giggled. Ty felt giddy too, now safe from the storm. Thunder crackled. Thane stuffed some money into Gumbo’s hand and then led Ty and Tate across the empty pool area toward the big hotel lobby. When they arrived, they threw themselves down onto a big leather couch, soaking wet and laughing together like fools. Thunder grumbled outside, no longer a danger to them. Thane saw someone he knew from the NFL and excused himself before disappearing into another area of the huge lobby.

  “Wow!” Tate said, watching Thane hobble away. “Was that fun!”

  “I don’t know how fun it was, but we got you back by dinner.” Ty pointed at a clock on the lobby wall.

  “Yeah, well, I’m here as Troy and his mom’s guest, so you know . . .”

  “Sure,” Ty said, then paused. “I don’t think Troy likes me too much.”

  Tate waved her hand in the air. “Troy’s great. He likes you. He’s just been through a lot lately.”

  “You mean the contract with the Jets?”

  “And all the TV and the crazy excitement, yes, but more than that.”

  “That thing about him imagining he saw his dad?” Ty asked.

  Tate looked around and leaned closer to Ty, lowering her voice. “Troy never knew his dad until a couple of months ago. He showed up and all of a sudden became Troy’s, like, agent or something. He did the deal with the Jets.”

  “Well, that’s good, right?” Ty said.

  Tate shook her head. “But the dad was mixed up with some really bad people. He stole a lot of money and the FBI was after him and he just disappeared. It was brutal. Troy was crushed. Then he thought he saw him in the crowd after we won the state championship game, and since then he’s thought the same thing a couple of other times. His mom is worried about him. When I asked her if it might be true—that his dad really was showing up—she said it’s in Troy’s mind. She says he wouldn’t dare show his face because he’d be arrested.”

  “Would she have him arrested?” Ty asked.

  “She’s pretty bitter, and that bothers Troy, I know. I don’t think Troy cares what his dad did. He misses him, and I think he’d do anything to be able to see him.”

  “Even imagining him?” Ty asked, but not in a mean way.

  “Either way, I feel so bad for Troy. He’s really sweet.”

  Ty didn’t like to hear her talk that way about Troy, but he sure wasn’t going to say so.

  “Look, here they come.” Tate pointed toward the lobby entrance.

  Striding through the great double doors came the entire Falcons football team, returning from practice. Outside, Ty saw the last of the players streaming from two buses parked beneath the covered entryway. Beyond them, the rain hissed and lightning flashed. Ty had been around NFL players plenty with his brother, including in the locker room and on the sideline during games. Still, he never ceased to be amazed at the size of them—legs like tree trunks, heads like overturned buckets, and arms as big as holiday hams.

  Tate began waving her hand frantically. In the middle of the enormous players, Troy waved back and grinned, until he saw Ty, and his expression changed to embarrassment.

  “Hey,” Troy said, walking up to them without sitting down, “what’s going on?”

  Tate recounted their adventure with the man-eaters, Gumbo’s boat, and the thunderstorm.

  “Great,” Troy said, but Ty could tell by his tone that Troy wasn’t happy about Tate spending time with him and his brother. “Well, I gotta get changed. You too, Tate. We’ve got dinner with the team and then the sponsor party if this rain quits. Good luck tomorrow, Ty.”

  With a wave, they both were gone.

  Ty watched them move through the crowded lobby toward the elevators, disappointed to see Tate go and wondering if Troy had forgotten about his mom inviting Thane and him to the sponsor party, too. He watched to see if Tate would give him another wave, waiting until the elevator doors closed, but she never looked back. Ty sighed and sat staring until the doors of the elevator right next to Tate’s parted, allowing a lone man to step out into the lobby.

  Ty jumped to his feet.

  The man was quickly swallowed up by the crowded lobby. Ty moved behind one of the massive marble columns and scanned the entire area, seeing no sign of the man. His breathing finally slowed until he felt the sudden grip of a hand on his shoulder.

  Chapter Fifty

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

  Ty caught his breath. “Thane, I think I saw him.”

  “Who?”

  “Him. Bennie the Blade. The Blade. The killer who works for Big Al.”

  Thane’s face fell. “Come on. Stop goofing with me.”

  “I’m not goofing.” Ty looked around nervously. “I saw him. He looks like a science teacher who needs some sleep. I could never forget that face and that orange hair.”

  “Did he see you?” Thane looked around now, too.

  “I don’t think so,” Ty said.

  “I mean, maybe you saw him, buddy.” Thane looked directly at Ty. “But maybe you didn’t. This place is a zoo.”

  “What if that was him, following you on the beach?” Ty said, his mind spinning.

  “Naw,” Thane said, waving his hand in the air. “Why follow me on the beach? It doesn’t make sense. I mean, there’s no reason he’d be here for anything that has to do with me or you. We don’t have anything to do with the teams playing Sunday, or anything that’s going on besides a Seven-on-Seven tournament and some NFL parties. So . . .”

  Ty almost pointed out that maybe people were gambling on his 7-on-7 tournament, but the idea was so foolish that he hung his head. “I’m just a stupid chicken, I swear.”

  “Hey, you’re not a chicken.” Thane put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my man. You’re a heck of a football player. You’re . . . I don’t know, sensitive. And you’ve been through a lot.”

  “Scared of shadows in the dark.” Ty wanted to vomit. “Scared of man-eaters, lightning bolts, snakes . . . heck, I might as well be scared of my own shadow.”

  “Ty, what happened with Lucy and Al D’Amico would give grown-ups nightmares.” Thane tightened his grip. “You know what Mrs. Brennan said.”

  Mrs. Brennan was the school psychologist Ty had seen ever since arriving at Halpern Middle. Originally, Ty saw her because of the trauma of losing both his parents in a car accident. Later, she tried to help him with everything that happened with the mob and the FBI. Ty liked Mrs. Brennan, but he was embarrassed to talk about her, even with Thane, so he just shook his head.

  “And that snake? It freaked me out, too,” Thane said. “Who wouldn’t have been scared of that big hog?”
/>   “Tate.”

  “She’s a pistol, I’ll admit. But you’ve been through a lot. I’ll keep my eyes open. Just stick with me. You know I’ve got your back.”

  “And I’ve got yours.” Ty bore his eyes into Thane’s.

  Thane grinned at him. “Saved me from Lucy, didn’t you? You were like my bodyguard, pushing him down that escalator. Okay, listen, this is what else I can do. Agent Sutherland is coming down for the big game, right? I can give him a call and have him check around. If the FBI is on these guys like he said they were, then my bet is that they’ll know if the Blade is down here in Miami. Come on, let’s go get out of these swamp clothes.”

  When they got to the room, Thane took out his cell phone and dialed up Agent Sutherland. Thane’s eyes brightened and he looked at Ty as he spoke. “Agent Sutherland? Yeah, it’s me, Tiger. Yeah, you can do something for me. I’m here with Ty and he thinks he might have seen one of those D’Amico guys. Bennie the Blade, the redhead who looks like a science teacher.”

  Thane paused to listen before he said, “Ty’s worried they’re after him.”

  Ty scowled at his older brother for his lighthearted tone with the FBI agent.

  “Yes, I know,” Thane said, winking at Ty. “I will tell him that. Thanks, Agent Sutherland. . . . You too. Good-bye.”

  “Is he down here?” Ty asked.

  “If he’s down here, and it’s a big if, then it’s got nothing to do with you and me,” Thane said. “Sutherland was sure of that. He said the only thing is that this game being the biggest gambling event in the world, it naturally attracts all the big gamblers. That’s the mob guys.”

  “How is he so sure?” Ty asked, still scowling.

  “Ty, I don’t know. You think he’s hiding the truth? Come on.”

  Ty couldn’t think of anything more to say, but he still didn’t feel great.

  “You want to get something to eat before you have your team meeting?” Thane asked.

  Ty realized he hadn’t eaten much of anything all day, so after they’d changed, they went to the hotel restaurant and had chilled stone crab claws with mustard sauce. Ty was about to head to Salon G for his team meeting when Thane told him he was going to attend a Players Association party at a hotel in Miami Beach and that he’d meet Ty later in the room.

  “What about the Falcons sponsor party?” Ty asked. “With Tate and Troy’s mom and meeting Seth Halloway?”

  Thane seemed to have forgotten. “Well, let’s see what time we’re both done.”

  “But you told them we’d go.”

  “Ty, people say they’ll stop by or go to things like that all the time. They won’t miss us. It’s going to be a huge thing. Don’t worry—when I get back, if you’re done and it’s still happening, we’ll go down for a few minutes.”

  “Can’t you just stay here and wait?” Ty knew by his brother’s tone that the sponsor party wasn’t looking good for them, and he wanted another chance to see Tate. “The Players Association? You don’t have to do that, do you?”

  “Are you worried about that Blade guy you thought you saw?” Thane asked. “I should be back before you’re out of film. I bet that goes late. If I’m wrong, you can just go from your meeting back to the room and wait for me. I won’t be late. Relax. It’s only a party. There’ll be more.”

  The coaches were already in Salon G, running film of their next opponents back and forth, a team from Tulsa. The coaches talked about what plays they thought would work and debated the strengths and weaknesses of individual players based on what they saw. Ty watched and listened and turned his mind to football to forget about the party and the girl.

  When all the players had arrived, Coach Bavaro put on the lights and stood in front of them with a big white greaseboard. Using a black marker, he drew up the Raptors offense with Os, then the Tulsa players with Xs.

  “If we line up in trips,” Coach Bavaro said, pointing to the three wide receivers loaded up on the right side of the ball, “then they’ll lock this backside guy up, man to man. Then, if we shift over before the snap and leave the single receiver to the right . . .”

  Coach Bavaro wiped two of the Os off the board before adding them to the other side and using arrows to show how the Xs would follow.

  “The locked-on man coverage will be here, to the right, and it’ll be with their worst cornerback, number twenty-six.”

  The coach turned and looked at Ty. “Ty, you’ll be the Z on this. Twenty-six will have man coverage on you.”

  Coach Bavaro turned back to the board. He put the point of the marker down in the middle of Ty’s O, then drew a line straight up the board, capping it with an arrow.

  “Touchdown.” The coach grinned. “No way can this kid cover you.”

  Coach Bavaro used a towel to wipe the board clean, talking as he worked. “Now, we’ve got other things we’ll do, but shifting into a trips formation and having Ty run a go route against twenty-six? That’s going to be our bread and butter. We’ll win or lose tomorrow based on that play.”

  The coach turned back to face the team. “So, Ty, you ready?”

  Chapter Fifty-one

  ALL WEEK, TY WAS ready. He didn’t mind missing the Falcons sponsor party because the extra film work paid off. He caught eighteen touchdowns in five games. The team spent most of its free time not at the pool or taking trips to the beach, but holed up in Salon G, watching film and going over plays on the greaseboard. Coach Bavaro was maniacal with his preparation, but the players couldn’t complain because it was all working. Ty didn’t complain because it kept his mind off of the Blade, the D’Amico family, and the FBI.

  The one distraction their hard work didn’t eliminate was Tate. Two times during the week when the team was given an hour to relax after lunch, Ty had seen Tate by the pool. Even though Troy White and his mom had Tate sandwiched between them, Ty approached her, stammering and mumbling in an effort to spark a conversation. Both times, Troy wore a blank stare and, although he said hello, he seemed to be in another world, and one where Ty wasn’t welcome. Tate’s obvious discomfort finally won out, and Ty wandered away to swim with his teammates and steal glances at Tate and her friends.

  It wasn’t that Ty’s entire week was ruined, though. He knew that if the team’s hard work paid off, they’d be playing on Super Bowl Sunday, right in the Dolphins’ stadium the morning of the Super Bowl itself. Before the Falcons and Patriots even got to see the field that day, Ty and the Raptors would have played for a title of their own.

  Going into Friday’s semifinal game against the Northern California Knights, Ty felt confident. With the same thorough film study and strategy sessions that Coach Bavaro said NFL teams used, Ty and the Raptors seemed to be one step ahead of their competition. Ty had to wonder, however, if their coach had even considered what would happen if they made it to the finals.

  Troy White’s Georgia team kept winning, too, and they also seemed destined for the finals. Ty wondered how even the Raptors’ NFL-style preparation could be a match against a kid like Troy White, who would supposedly know the plays they’d run before the ball was even snapped. Ty worried that nothing could defeat that.

  Friday morning arrived with a windy, overcast sky spitting droplets of rain like watermelon seeds. Ty warmed up with his team and didn’t notice Tate in the stands until the captains went out for the coin toss. Ty began to wave but hesitated when he saw Troy’s game face directed right at him. Ty dropped his hand to his side and focused on the field, knowing that Troy wasn’t there to cheer him on. He was there to scout both teams, knowing that whoever won would play the Georgia team on Super Bowl Sunday if Georgia won later in the day.

  The Raptors won the toss, and Ty took the field with his offense. As expected, Northern California’s fastest cornerback, a kid named Morris Lasheen, number twenty, lined up across from Ty. What Ty didn’t expect as he ran his first route, a deep post pattern, was for the safety to drop immediately into the deep zone. They were double-covering him. Ty ran his route, but as fas
t as he was, with the double coverage there was no way to get open. The Raptors completed a seven-yard swing pass to the running back, and Ty jogged back to the huddle.

  “They doubled me.” Ty looked at David Bavaro as he stepped into the huddle.

  “I know,” the quarterback said. “Let’s see what they do this time; we’ll go trips away from you.”

  Ty knew that if they were to double-team him with the three other wide receivers on the other side of the field, it would make it very hard to cover all three as well as the running back. The Raptors broke the huddle, and he ran up to the line, ready to run a go route, straight up the field for the end zone. Lasheen lined up across from him, and the safety began to rotate his way, setting up a deep zone. Ty thought that maybe the safety would roll back the other way once the ball was snapped, but that wasn’t what happened.

  Ty took off, and the safety stayed over the top of him, making it impossible for him to use his speed to get deep, and letting Lasheen, the speedy cornerback, play any break Ty might make underneath without having to worry about the deep ball. Ty gritted his teeth, even as he ran.

  Northern California kept it up, doubling him the entire game. Even when the Raptors took the lead, they didn’t relent in their commitment to stopping Ty. Late in the game, Coach Bavaro put an arm around Ty’s shoulders on the sideline.

  “Great job out there,” he said.

  “I don’t have a catch,” Ty said.

  “But we’re winning because they’re worried about getting beat deep by you. It’s not a bad strategy, shutting you down with that deep zone.”

  “It’s a terrible strategy.” Ty stole a glance into the stands, first at his brother, then briefly at Tate. “I look like I’m useless.”

  “Not to anyone who knows the game. We’re going to get into the championship. That’s what we came here for. You’re helping to make it happen, Ty, just by being out there.”

  “This sure doesn’t feel like football to me.”

  “Hang in there, buddy. You’ll get your chances. It’s not always balloons and candy bars.”