Page 46 of You Are Cordially Invited

Yes!

But we needed to keep the pressure on, and with only three minutes on the clock, our brilliant number ten booted the ball damn near fifty metres down the field to give us a ten-metre scrum.

The crowd surged to its feet.

The scrum packed down and our line spread out, waiting for the halfback to pick the ball clear. He’d indicated a throw to the short side, but by the time he had the ball in hand, two Waikato players were blocking his pass.

He threw to the other side instead, and the ball made its way across the field and slowly forward toward the try line. On the far wing, Rawiri got into position for a run down the sideline, but there were two opposition watching him like hawks. And then just like that, a gap formed almost in front of me. A miscommunication sent two Waikato players on a collision course and the run was there for the taking.

I called for the ball and it flew high in the air, bypassing my teammate and straight toward me. The opposition scrambled to switch focus and block my run, but they were too late. Hands grabbed and slid off my hips as I caught the ball on the fly and flew between the only two opposition players who had a chance of stopping me. With my heart hammering and my lungs on fire, I hoofed it toward the try line, sensing imminent victory.

Then from nowhere, a massive shape appeared in my peripheral vision, offside and powering toward me, the ground shuddering under the force of his feet.

Five metres to go.

I punched down through my hips and thighs, and the studs in my boots caught the ground and kicked my legs up a gear as I pushed toward that oh-so-fucking-close white line on the grass.

A few more steps. Almost ther—

The Waikato prop slammed into me at full speed, all 135 kilos of him.

The crowd gasped and the ball flew from my hands as I was propelled into the air, past two teammates to land metres away with the force of a sack of concrete.

A sickening crack ricocheted through my brain as I hit the turf with my shoulder, and molten lightning seared the length of my arm. Somewhere in the distance the crowd roared, and for a second or two my heart rocketed with joy that we’d won.

Yes!

But the shout in my mind never left my lips, the words jammed in my brain, a crowd of syllables tripping against some closed door, my body sparking random sensations...

fire flash down my neck

jangling buzz in my fingers

arm jerk

slicing pain

have... to... get... up...

can’t...

“Reuben! Reuben!”

need... to... get up

voices...

...help

...please

* * *

Cam

“Will you just stop for a minute and listen to me, Cam. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you—”

“Don’t.” I stabbed my finger at my best staff nurse and her mouth snapped shut.

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