by Scott Prince
“And what do you think you two are doing?”
It’s Kellogg. She’s on playground duty, holding a clipboard and a pen and writing our names down.
CHAPTER 38
FINAL WARM-UP
On the way to the game, I tell Justice about Kellogg catching us behind the tree. I tell him how she sent us to Mr Woolly’s office. He called us in together but spoke to Taylor first; he told her that young ladies should not be worried about boys until much later on in life. He then excused her and spoke to me privately. He told me to be a bit more careful and better luck next time. Then he let me go, no detention or anything! Good old Mr Woolly.
When Justice and I arrive at the bridge, I fall silent. We both know that this will be my last appearance as Deadly D. We make our way to our usual hiding spot. This time, Justice has thought of a very creative way to help me transform: he has snuck into my training bag and done something to my game underpants.
“It’s time for you to strip off, bro,” he says.
“Strip?” I say.
“Yeah, get naked, man, and put your game underpants on!” he laughs. I hope Taylor’s not in the bushes taking photos tonight. I undress quickly and feel around in the dark for my underpants. They are folded neatly under my footy socks. I can hear Justice sniggering to himself.
“What you laughing at?” I say.
“Just pull them up nice and tight,” he laughs. I pull my undies over my feet and hoist them up over my legs, into position. And that’s when I smell it. It’s not an unpleasant smell but I recognise it straight away. The trainers at the Broncos use it. It’s a cream that they smear onto sore muscles; it’s called “Deep Heat”. If you get it in your eyes, it burns like crazy. Justice has put it in the front section of my underpants – you know where. Down there.
My body starts to tingle. It’s burning so bad! I feel like jumping in the water but I have a game of footy to play. I have to handle the pain and turn it into anger – then the beast inside of me can come out!
“Aaaarrgh!” I scream, jumping up and down like I’m on fire. I try to pat it out with my hands but there are no flames and I just look silly. That’s when it hits me. My eyes roll back inside my head and my whole body trembles. The hair on my head shoots down past my eyes, muscles bulge from my body and I grow tall above Justice. My pants still feel like they’re on fire but it doesn’t matter. For the very last time in my life, I’m Deadly D and I’m here to play football.
CHAPTER 39
FELIS CATUS
Inside the dressing sheds, Coach Griffin is preparing us for the game. We are sitting in a circle on plastic chairs, sipping water. Some of the players are still pulling on their boots. I have an icepack down the front of my pants.
“Don’t let Greg Inglis find space out wide!” instructs Coach. Our captain, Corey Parker, chimes in.
“Yeah, don’t let him find space!”
“And for crying out loud, two men in a tackle and wrap up the ball carrier!” shouts Coach.
“Yeah, wrap up the ball carrier!” says Parker. Coach spots me looking off into the distance. I’m daydreaming, thinking of all the little kids who love Deadly D.
“You OK, Deadly?” asks Coach in front of everyone.
“Yeah, you OK, Deadly?” asks Parker. Coach has had enough.
“Corey, just because you’re the captain doesn’t mean you need to repeat everything I say!” Parker looks at his feet. Coach turns back to me, waiting for an answer.
“I’m alright – just thinking about my game,” I answer. Coach nods his head like he approves and goes back to his pep talk. Justice is in the corner of the room, filling up drink bottles and pumping up balls. He gives me a wink. I’m glad he’s here.
“OK, boys, let’s get out there and turn those Rabbitohs into chocolate Easter bunnies!” says Coach. We all get up and pat each other on the back, ready to jog down the player’s tunnel. Corey leads us. The TV cameras zoom in as we run past. Ben Barba is right behind Parker. The only problem is, he’s cuddling his kittens again.
“Ben, put those things away!” Coach yells down the tunnel. “They’re not footballs!”
“Yeah, they’re not footballs!” hisses Parker, turning around to glare at Barba. “Their correct name is Felis catus.”
“Wow, you know a lot about cats, Corey,” smiles Barba. He kisses his kittens and then passes them to Justice.
CHAPTER 40
KICK-OFF
As Parker kicks off, the roar is deafening. Broncos Stadium is a sea of yellow and maroon. People are waving flags and banners that say things like “Let’s Go, Broncos” and “Welcome to the Bronx”. I spot two ladies down the front with a sign that says, “Will You Marry Me, Deadly D?” They’d freak out if they knew how old I am.
At the southern end of the stadium is a stand full of supporters wearing green and red. They’re the South Sydney Rabbitohs fans. They’re holding up signs, too. One of them says, “Inglis for Prime Minister”. I hope I don’t have to tackle him tonight.
It’s going to be a very physical game. The Rabbitohs are running the ball up hard. Our two centres, Jack Reed and Dale Copley, hang on to the Rabbitohs’ front rower, Luke Burgess, as he drags them with him. Finally they put him down just on halfway. I see Greg Inglis preparing to take the next run. I’m marking him. Ben Barba is behind me at fullback.
“He’s yours, Deadly! Don’t let him through!” Barba screams. The Rabbitohs’ dummy half throws a long pass to Inglis. Sure enough, he runs towards me like a steam train. His eyes narrow in on me. He doesn’t want to step around me; he just wants to run me over. Inglis’ legs pump up and down as he cradles the ball in his giant arms. I could stand still and let him do whatever he wants but I don’t. I run forward to meet him. We look like two wild bulls charging each other. The crowd goes insane, waiting for the collision. We’re three metres away, two metres, one metre, BANG! He tries to fend me off but I wrap my arms around him and throw him to the ground. The impact loosens his grip on the ball and he loses it. Our winger, Josh Hoffman, scoops it up and streaks down the left-hand side of the field. The Rabbitohs’ winger, Nathan Merritt, chases Hoffman and closes in. Hoffman sees Jack Reed running in support and passes to him. Reed steps one final defender to score under the posts! 4–0 to us.
Greg Inglis and I are only just picking ourselves off the ground. “Where’d you learn how to tackle, kid?” he asks.
“From you,” I reply. “I used to watch you on TV all the time.” Inglis smiles to himself and runs back to his team. Something tells me that he wants to square things up. Sammy Thaiday jogs over and pats me on the head.
“Keep it up, bruz – you’re the man!” he laughs. Parker kicks the conversion to give us a 6–0 lead. It’s a nice start to my last game. Unfortunately, someone has plans that will ruin my night.
CHAPTER 41
GIVE. ME. THE. BALL.
It’s twenty-five minutes into the first half. We’re leading 10 points to 6. Sam Burgess charges over the try line like a wrecking ball for the Rabbitohs to give them their first points and Jack Reed has scored his second try for us. As Parker kicks unsuccessfully, I spot three familiar faces in the stands. It’s Taylor with her mum and dad. She waves to me and smiles. I smile back. Everyone in the crowd turns around to see who I’m smiling at. I remember what she said about her planet not having sport. I’d better give her something to remember. I walk over to Ben Barba.
“Ben, I’m first runner. Give me the ball from the kick-off,” I say. He looks at me, confused.
“But Ben Hannant runs it up first – you know that,” he says.
“I don’t care,” I say determinedly. “Give. Me. The. Ball.”
Barba shrugs his shoulders. “Whatever you want, Deadly,” he says. “But Coach won’t like it.”
Adam Reynolds kicks off for the Rabbitohs. As usual, Barba is there to catch the ball on the full. Instinctively, he turns to pass to Hannant on the right but then remembers our conversation. He spins left to see me running from the
deep. He pops up an easy ball that I pull tightly to my chest. “Good luck, brah,” I hear him say.
As I gather speed, I think of the families around the country watching the game. I picture my cousins in their lounge room up in Mount Isa, screaming at the TV, telling me to run hard, with no idea that they’re related to Deadly D. Most of all, I think of how proud my dad would be, seeing me run head-on into the South Sydney front row. The blades of grass below me blur into a sea of green. The roar of the crowd fills my head as I see two massive defenders in red and green jerseys preparing to bring me down. At this precise moment, I pick up speed and explode forward, knocking the wind out of both of them. They are sent flying on both sides, landing on their backs. Backup defenders come racing in but I fend them off and keep running.
I am well past the halfway mark and the crowd are out of their seats. The stadium’s announcer yells into his microphone, “Come on, Broncos fans, let’s get Deadly D over the line!” The chant goes up immediately – “Dead-ly D! Dead-ly D! Dead-ly D!” I only have the winger and the fullback to beat and my legs feel heavy. I push ahead – there’s only ten metres to go; I can’t give up now. I hear the footsteps of the fullback behind me but he won’t catch me. I crash over the line for a length-of-the-field try! I’m buried alive by my teammates as they jump on top of me. They haven’t seen anything like it before and neither has the crowd. They’re still out of their seats, giving me a standing ovation. Ben Barba helps me to my feet.
“I was wrong, brah: Coach won’t mind you doing that at all!” laughs Barba, pointing to the coaches’ box. Inside, Coach Griffin is going crazy with joy. He’s ripped his shirt off. He stands on the desk and does the Macarena. All the TV cameras are filming him. The crowd starts the Deadly D chant again as we walk back to halfway. I spot Taylor in the stands: she’s smiling from ear to ear. Even though this is my last game, it’s the happiest I’ve ever been. I wish it would stay this way, but I see Justice come running down to the fence – and he’s not there to congratulate me. He has a fearful look on his face. I haven’t seen him like this since Jared Knutz beat him up. I run over to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s B-b-b-b …” he stutters. I grab him by the shoulders and look down into his face.
“Take your time and tell me what’s up,” I say calmly. By now, everyone can see that something is wrong. Justice takes a big breath.
“Bruce Sharp,” he says slowly. “He’s taken the stone from your locker,” explains Justice frantically. “And he’s just left the stadium.” My head spins. Who knows what Bruce Sharp will do with the stone? I’m not worried about myself; it’s Taylor and her family I’m concerned about. I let go of Justice’s shoulders and then take one last look back at my teammates.
“Justice?” I say, looking into his eyes.
“Yeah, bro?” he asks, still scared as anything.
“Deadly D and Justice Jones have a job to do.” Bruce Sharp has picked the wrong team to mess with this time.
CHAPTER 42
HORSEY RIDE
I jump the fence and run up the stairs of the grandstand with Justice. No one can believe it. Deadly D has left the game and jumped into the stands! Even the commentators are dumbfounded. Scott Prince tries to speak into his Fox Sports microphone but no words come out. He is shocked to see me leave the field. As I run up the stands with Justice, my supporters try to stop me.
“Where are you going, Deadly?” asks one old lady with a Broncos jersey on. It has my name on the back of it. After her, a little boy with a huge blow-up Broncos hand stops me at the top of the stairs.
“Please, Deadly D, don’t go now.”
“Don’t worry, mate, I’ll come back,” I say, but I know it’s a lie. Justice is hurrying me up.
“C’mon, cuz, we don’t want to lose him. He went this way!” yells Justice, pointing to the staircase near the snack bar. We run down it. My footy boots are no good on the concrete – the plastic studs slide as I try to run. Finally, we reach the exit. It’s like a ghost town outside. There’s no sign of Bruce Sharp anywhere but up ahead I see someone who can help us.
The clip-clopping of hooves on concrete gets louder and louder. Two majestic, shiny brown police horses come galloping towards us. They come to a halt directly in front of Justice. He’s spooked by the size of them and hides behind me. One of the horses snorts warm air out of its nose and I feel it blow across my face. It’s kind of gross and nice at the same time – a bit like when Taylor tried to kiss me. The policewoman who is riding the snorter looks concerned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be playing footy, Deadly?” she asks.
“Yeah,” says the policeman on the other horse. “It’s all over the police radio – they say you jumped the fence and ran off!” His horse whinnies as though it’s agreeing with its rider.
“There’s no time to explain,” I reply, looking down at the strong legs of the horse in front of me. Then a light bulb goes off inside my head. These horses are quicker than I could ever be. “Actually,” I continue. “Did you see a see a man come running out of the stadium just before us? He’s stolen something from me that’s extremely precious.” The two officers glance at each other. Justice steps out from behind me.
“His name is Bruce Sharp,” says Justice. “He’s a reporter for the Brisbane Daily. He was wearing jeans, a black leather jacket and has really bad teeth, a bit like yours, officer – no offence,” he says to the policeman. The policewoman smiles. The policeman doesn’t.
“Yes, we saw him,” the policewoman answers. “We might be able to catch him, so you’d better jump on,” she says, pointing to the saddle. I don’t want to waste any time, so I put one foot in the stirrup of the policeman’s saddle and hoist myself up behind him. The policewoman grabs Justice by the shirt and yanks him up to sit behind her. “Giddy up!” she says to her horse. Justice looks terrified. Both horses break into a gallop down the main road and into the streets of Brisbane. The stadium disappears behind us. The policeman yells into his walkie-talkie.
“We are in pursuit of a suspect on foot, possibly running down Hale Street turning right into Caxton Street,” he says. There’s a voice on the other end but the clippity-clop of the horse’s hooves are too loud and I can’t hear what they’re saying. I look over at Justice. The shock has left his face and he seems to be enjoying the ride. He is holding the policewoman tightly as she grips the reins of her horse.
“What’s that, miss?” he says, pointing to an item on her belt.
“My gun,” she says.
“Can I hold it?”
“Of course not,” she says sternly.
“What’s that, miss?” he asks, pointing to another item on her belt.
“My taser.”
“Can I shoot the suspect with it?”
“No.”
“And what’s that, miss?”
“Pepper spray.”
“What’s it made of?”
“Pepper.” She is starting to sound annoyed.
“Hey, miss?” asks Justice.
“What?”
“Can we put the siren on?”
“No.”
“Why not miss?” asks Justice.
“Because this is a horse, not a car.”
CHAPTER 43
FRUIT BATS
Police cars are zooming past us, their lights flashing. They are looking for Bruce Sharp, too. If they find him and search his pockets, they’ll think Justice and I are stupid for reporting him. After all, he’ll only have a stone to show them. Who cares about a silly old stone?
The horses have taken us further into the city, down Roma Street and towards the Parkland. From the corner of my eye, I notice a bright light behind a bush. It’s the screen of a mobile phone.
“He’s in there!” I shout, jumping from the horse. Bruce Sharp spins around to see me charging towards him. He runs from behind the bush and takes off up a grassy hill. My body is sore from the game but catching Sharp is more important than beating the Rabbitohs.
My legs push hard up the hill, following the dark outline of the reporter. The studs from my footy boots give me extra traction on the grass. When I get to the top, he is nowhere to be seen. In the light of the moon, all I can see is trees. I scan the Parkland from the hilltop, looking for clues. To the right, there are more trees, and they are telling a story. A colony of fruit bats has been disturbed and they fly high into the air, screeching noisily. Us blackfellas know the bush and our elders have told us the stories that the trees tell. I know Bruce Sharp is causing that commotion.
I run in the direction of the bat colony when suddenly I hear something. It’s not a fruit bat; it’s Justice.
“Deadly! Help me!”
He’s up ahead, so I run faster. Branches scratch my face as I push through the dark. My uniform is ripped to shreds and I am bleeding but my mate needs me.
“Stay back!” a voice hisses. It’s Bruce Sharp and he has Justice in a headlock. Justice is trying to get away but he is no match for a grown man. “Stay back, Deadly D – or should I say, Dylan Conlan?” Sharp smiles evilly. The secret is out. I’m a dead man.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I say. “But please, let go of my friend.”
Sharp pulls out a gun and points it at me, then at Justice. My blood turns cold.
“Don’t you spoil this for me, Deadly D,” Sharp says coldly. “Ever since you started playing for the Broncos, I’ve been trying to solve this riddle. No one knows who you are or where you came from – until now! And in tomorrow’s paper, I’m going to reveal to the world that Deadly D is actually a kid with powers from another planet!” I immediately think of Taylor and what this will mean for her.
“Don’t do it – I’ll tell you anything you want!” I plead. I clasp my hands together and look at him desperately. “Just let my friend go!” I might be bigger and stronger than he is but there’s nothing I can do.