Game day!

Sammy knew after his experience with Jessie that he would never make friends here. He kept to himself and ate his lunches in the library, with the other outcasts and loners. Coach Brennon was happy with him during their practice sessions, and that was all that mattered. But the pre-game hype was too invigorating to resist. Even the teachers seemed to want to just get classes over with. It was, after all, a rematch with their oldest rivals--it was a matter of patriotism, or whatever the small-town equivalent is called.

From the locker room, he could make out the thrum of the marching band's drums, and some of the horns too. A few members of the team helped Sammy struggle into his gear, assuring him that he wasn't a total pariah, but Jake and his toadies gave him a wide berth.

"Nervous?" someone asked him.

"I'd be lyin' if I said no."

"All right boys, listen up!" Coach Brennon came into their midst. Sammy had been looking forward to this, his first pep talk, a time-honored pre-game ritual.

"I know this team's had morale and infighting problems. But tonight's the night that all changes. Tonight's the night we go out there, and kick butt! The field is no place for personal issues. We all want to [i]win[/i], right?"

"Yes, coach!" they all shouted in unison, Sammy included.

"We all want to wipe the smug grin off that stupid sabertooth tiger mascot they've got, don't we?"

"Yes coach!"

"Then go out there and do it!" Coach Brennon managed a pretty impressive throb in the vein on his temple. "It's time our tortoise comes out ahead!"

Technically, their mascot was a sea turtle, not a tortoise, but it was close enough for the metaphor to stir up the team spirit. With plenty of chest-bumping and ass-smacking, the Cedar City Loggerheads donned their helmets and ran out onto the field to a victorious cacophony. Sammy shuddered at the spiritual power of the pageantry, how it wanted to suck him in like a siren's song. The fact that this worked on humans too showed that they were no different from werewolves in how close their instincts lay to the surfaces of their psyches. It went to show, they were all beings with a desire to be part of something greater, and could not resist the call to be a part of a greater whole and the celebration of it.

They circled around Brennon, receiving their orders. Just like before a deer hunt, Sammy listened, visualizing the tactics in his mind. If it all went right, they would move like an eloquent machine, sharing each others' strengths and spirits to achieve their goal. With a clap of his hands, they went rushing out, past the scores of pretty cheerleaders, to their positions. Sammy surveyed the opposition, in their venomous yellow and orange uniforms. Pine Grove really did breed them big, but Sammy was bigger than any of them.

A referee emerged, placed the ball in the middle of the field, and backed away.

The whistle blew. A boy from Pine Grove drove forward and kicked the ball with all his might. It flew back, over Sammy's head, deep into their territory. That's when the Predators started charging. Sammy kicked himself into gear, trying to block them off, and two of them bore down on him.

He braced himself before the impact sent shockwaves through his whole body, but he stood his ground against the two Predators. Only, suddenly, they weren't boys in orange and yellow. Against all logic, they were men--men in blue scrubs and white lab coats. [i]They had found him again![/i]

Sammy's body locked up with fear. [i]How?[/i] He needed air. He gulped down lungfuls of it, lungfuls of cold air that stank of sweat and humans. All he could hear was his own heartbeat. It didn't matter how they had found him again, [i]he wouldn't let them take him this time![/i]

There was no time to shift. But he knew how to fight, now. His brain scrambled through the memories of Hatchet's lessons, only to send them scattering through his head-space. Amidst the chaotic tumble, he snatched one or two maneuvers and dragged them to the forefront of his conscious. He managed to shift his weight, knocking the predators off-balance enough for him to slip around them, bringing his foot up into one of their shins. It screamed and went down.

Sammy brought both of his fists together and slammed them down onto the other predator's back, knocking it down. [i]Weakened enemy! Take them out before they can get back up![/i]

He leapt on top of the two prone figures, grabbing one by the head and slamming it down again into the ground. And again. And again. He kicked and punched at both bodies, not noticing the quiet that had settled around them or the screams. Not even the shrill whistles could pierce his survival instincts.

Another predator grabbed him from behind, yanking him off the two he had laid out. He screamed and flailed his arms and legs, landing ineffectual blows at his new enemy.

"[i]PHOENIX![/i]" the voice of his Alpha splashed like ice water directly onto his brain. Odysseus managed to grab his arms, forcing them to cross against his chest. By now, Sammy was trembling, as reality forced his delusions away and he saw--not two BioPharm scientists on the ground, but two boys in bright-colored uniforms, one groaning and the other crying as medics rushed in to check them out. Not his predators. Just Predators.

Coach Brennon was the one who had pulled Sammy off them, still holding onto him despite the blood streaming from his bent nose.

Night Sky appeared, grabbing his helmet and forcing eye contact. "Sam Phoenix, calm down! You're safe now!"

From the crowds, a low thrumming sound arose, increasing in loudness. Booing. People were booing him.

"Get 'im off the field!" shouted a referee.

Sammy was all too happy to obey that call.