All-Star Pride by Sigmund Brouwer

Author:Sigmund Brouwer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: JUV000000
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2006-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

chapter twelve

Coach Jorgensen had told me to stay in the stands right above our players’ box. He had told me to wait until the second period ended and then return to the dressing room to join the team.

But Coach Jorgensen’s attention was on the game, not on me.

I spun out of my seat and dashed upward, away from the players’ box. I pounded up the steps of the aisle. At the top, I turned right and sprinted through the oval concourse that would take me around to the other side.

Most of the spectators in the rink were in the stands, watching the game. The few Russians wandering throughout the concourse wisely moved aside as they saw me running. And it was probably a good thing too. Since the vision in my right eye was blurry and my balance was off, I’m not sure I would have been good at dancing around them, not at the speed I was running.

I didn’t know what I was going to do or say when I reached Mr. Eyepatch, but I wasn’t going to need Russian to let him realize what I thought about him hitting Nadia, especially if this involved the danger for her I thought it did. Whatever had happened in the black market could not have been good, and he was obviously connected with it, even if I didn’t know how or why.

It probably took less than thirty seconds to make it halfway around the oval. I’m big but faster than I look. Even then, arriving so quickly, I was barely in time to see them.

Mr. Eyepatch had pushed Nadia through a double-wide exit door at the far end of the concourse. If the slap to her face hadn’t been enough indication of trouble, this confirmed it. Nadia was supposed to always be near our team. Should any major incident take place, she would have to translate for us. So I guessed if she was leaving, it probably wasn’t by her choice.

I started running again.

The crowd roared, and part of my mind told me the Russians had just notched a goal. I didn’t spare the ice a glance.

I burst through the doors.

Sunlight battered my eyes. Although it was mid-evening, St. Petersburg was far enough north that, at this time of year, the days were so long the sun barely set for more than a couple of hours.

My head seemed filled with pounding blood. I wondered if any of my stitches had broken open. I blinked away the sudden light, heaving for breath. My right eye filled with tears. I rubbed the tears away, and when I was able to focus again, I saw the two of them rounding the corner of the outside of the building.

Again, like a fool, I rushed forward.

Unlike ice arenas and major stadiums in North America, this one did not have acres and acres of parking lots. Not enough Russians could afford cars. The tiny parking lot was deserted. I didn’t have to worry about knocking anyone over.

I rounded the corner and ran into deep shadow.

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