Chapter 81: Our War

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The "zombies" came in every kind of costume. Some wore suits and carried briefcases, like office workers who had died somewhere between a mortgage and a meeting. Some wore plaid shirts and caps, playing farmers. Others had fluorescent work jackets and construction helmets.

Nolan even spotted several of his own teachers among them.

Rachel was there too, with a gray-white wig on her head and a set of fake dentures clenched in one hand.

As Thriller pulsed through the stadium, the zombies gathered together as if drawn by an unseen force. Then they split apart.

Jennifer Love Hewitt appeared in the center.

Tonight, she wore Michael Jackson’s iconic red jacket, cut tight enough to move, and led the formation through a short routine.

As a child actress, Jennifer was not afraid of an entrance. Her limbs were flexible, her timing was sharp, and her waist moved with the kind of rhythm that made the whole south stand roar.

The performance ended quickly. When the stadium lights came back up, the area around the south stand had turned into a sea of orange.

The crowd had been hiding behind the stands the entire time.

"Told you," Flea said, raising a fist. "Best student section in California."

The coin toss went exactly the way Nolan expected.

He lost again.

St. John Bosco chose to receive.

Nolan stood on the sideline and studied the Braves’ offensive alignment with complete focus. He did not notice the BHHS student section answering the opposing posters with one of their own.

It was a huge sign built from a training photo. Nolan’s eyes were closed in the shot, and someone had drawn a halo behind his head. His body had been pasted into a traditional white robe.

Apparently, the south stand had decided he was the football messiah.

Across the field, St. John Bosco’s defensive players gathered in a tight circle. Their main topic was obvious.

Nolan Callahan.

Just as their student section had raised giant mocking signs before kickoff, Nolan’s name had already burned itself into everyone in the stadium. If this game was a duel between the Normans offense and the Braves defense, then the decisive piece was Nolan.

St. John Bosco’s coaches had been watching him closely since Santa Ana fell. For two weeks, they had drilled defensive answers designed to restrict him completely.

In Nolan’s eyes, the field became a sand table again. Defensive coverage shifted with every offensive motion. For one short moment, the Normans defense gave up a gap, but the Braves quarterback did not catch it. He ran late and gained only three yards.

Second down, incomplete.

Third down, a long pass hit. St. John Bosco crossed midfield and moved to the fifty.

On the next series, after the drive stalled, the Braves chose the conservative answer.

Field goal.

Their kicker made it from long range.

That fit their identity. St. John Bosco trusted its defense.

BHHS trailed 3-0.

Then Nolan led the offense onto the field.

He opened with the style they had practiced most recently: scramble-drill football. The idea was not a fixed passing pattern. The quarterback reacted to pressure, read space, moved randomly behind or around the line, and created a throw or run from there.

Fran Tarkenton had made the style famous. The Father of Scrambling was the first NFL quarterback to pass for more than forty thousand yards while also rushing for more than three thousand, and he had led the Vikings to multiple Super Bowls.

The moment Nolan moved, the Braves defense moved with him.

Their first layer used a 3-4 front: three down linemen and four linebackers. The purpose was clear. More linebacker bodies meant more ways to track the quarterback.

The two inside linebackers had one job tonight.

They were here to contain Nolan.

They did not align left and right. They aligned high and low, one pressing forward, the other waiting behind. When Nolan beat the first, the second arrived. Then the two squeezed him from both sides.

To avoid getting trapped or stripped, Nolan released the ball immediately.

Even under that pressure, the throw was accurate. He even led Flea into space.

But the corner was experienced too. He hit Flea’s catch point at the jump and disrupted the reception.

Incomplete.

Second down.

This time, Nolan chose a shotgun look tilted more toward passing. The two wide receivers crossed. The halfback and fullback moved together as a paired run-action look.

At the same time, the two pressing linebackers came into Nolan’s space.

This time, he did not throw at once. He rolled out, stayed behind the line, and led them on a slow chase.

Catch me if you can.

Nolan used relaxed cuts to keep the linebackers close without letting them touch him, all while watching his teammates.

After the initial cross, Flea shifted laterally through a series of sudden changes. Matic pushed straight upfield toward the deep area.

Flea’s route looked strange and unpredictable because Nolan had not told him exactly how to run. He had given him freedom.

With Nolan’s ability to place the ball wherever he wanted, that actually helped Flea shake coverage.

It worked.

Matic’s vertical route also pulled the safety’s attention, and the halfback/fullback action held more eyes near the middle. Now the defense had three threats across the intermediate and deep spaces.

An ordinary high-school defense might have panicked.

The Braves did not.

Their communication stayed clean. Their four layers kept shape through the rotation.

But even a clean rotation had a moment of transition.

Nolan caught it.

He brought the ball behind his back and flicked it with his right hand. The football came out from the left side of his body.

The pass did not have much speed, and the angle was not pretty.

It did not need to be.

The surprise froze the Braves just long enough for the ball to reach the tight end.

When the tight end turned upfield, a linebacker filled hard. The tight end stopped sharply, let the collision miss, and picked up fifteen yards.

First down, Normans.

Using similar combinations, Nolan moved the ball steadily. His release took longer and longer, but the offense kept advancing with order. Finally, he passed the ball into the end zone.

In the stands, Katherine let out the breath she had been holding.

She had watched every one of Nolan’s games. She could feel the change now. His throws were slower to come out.

She was not on the field, so she could not feel the pressure or read what he was thinking. She could only put it down to St. John Bosco’s strength.

"He is not going to lose, is he?" Mia exclaimed.

She had watched the All-Star Game and knew Nolan was already unusual among his peers. She had not expected the next game to become this complicated so quickly.

"Impossible," Lisa said at once. "They already scored."

She finally had a proper reason to watch in public. Reese might play.

Besides Mia, Katherine, and Lisa, the first-row seats also held Susan, William, and Charlize. Nolan had asked Thomas for several of the best tickets so they could sit in the VIP area.

William and Charlize understood only pieces of the game, so most of their attention stayed on Nolan. After a while, though, Charlize began to grow curious about the sport itself.

It was so full of force.

With the touchdown and extra point, the Normans took the lead.

When St. John Bosco’s offense returned, they stayed conservative. After driving to the BHHS forty-two, they chose another field goal.

At the end of the first quarter, the Normans led 7-6.

Nolan saw the two linebackers assigned to him remove their helmets.

Their faces were identical.

No wonder they fit together so well.

Twins.

Nolan looked at Thomas.

Thomas shook his head in relief.

"Good thing I taught you to read defense and slow down your release."

Nolan had tried his old quick-attack method earlier. Against high pressure, the receivers struggled to catch cleanly.

Without defensive reading, this game would have become a swamp.

Nolan was already thinking farther.

This game was not only about tonight. It was not only about the California invitation.

In an exaggerated but real sense, it touched his future football career.

The Braves were the first team to build a dedicated containment plan for him. Because the two linebackers were twins, the plan had truly interfered with him.

Whether or not St. John Bosco won, the tactic itself was a success.

In the future, Nolan would almost certainly face similar treatment again and again.

VIP coverage, every week.

He needed an answer.

Then he heard chanting behind him.

The south stand was still some distance away, but the voices cut clearly across the field.

Nolan turned and saw BHHS students in matching orange shirts, stomping and shouting.

"Never back down!" a boy in the front row shouted. He wore the school flag like a cape, a bandanna around his head, and held a long stick that he struck against the ground. "Never what?"

"Never give up!"

Jennifer was in the section with an oversized megaphone, yelling along with everyone else.

Across the field, St. John Bosco’s section answered. Neither side yielded.

The war was not only on the field.

During stoppages and breaks, the student sections became the show. Cameras from the local broadcasts turned toward them.

That sight gave Nolan the answer to St. John Bosco’s tactic.

"This is our war," Nolan told the offense. "All of ours. The deciding piece is not me. It is you."

He looked around the huddle.

"We are going to change the plan a little."

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