Page 1 of The Battery
PART ONE
“I’m gonna winanother one for you, Uncle Andy.”
“Kiddo, that makes four. You don’t have to—”
“I will, Uncle Andy. I already know how. It’s gonna make a lot of people unhappy, but I’ll do whatever it takes. I will, Uncle Andy. I’ll win a pennant for you, just like I did for Mom, Dad, and my brother. I will. I promise.”
CHAPTER ONE
Cody
People called himthe Spartan. A titan of a man walked up to the plate as if he owned the stadium. The swagger. The confidence. His sheer presence commanded attention. Demanded respect.
I rolled my neck and put my back to him, Leo Papadopoulos—the Spartan. I felt his gaze hit me like a jolt of kinetic energy. I squeezed my eyes shut to center my focus. For a heartbeat, the glaring neon stadium lights darkened. The roar of the crowd booing the Spartan hushed.
Silence. Darkness. Just my will to strike him out.
My eyes opened. “Fastball. High and inside,” came an electronic voice in my ear. Our catcher, Watson, had punched the command into his forearm-mounted PitchCom device. I took to the mound, right cleat resting against the rubber as I twisted the ball inside my glove to find the right seams and grip.
Leo stood over six feet and carried his two hundred pounds of muscle well. A manicured beard stuck out from the chin guard of his red helmet, square and medium length, freshly cut with a faded cheek line. Spartan. He wore the blood red uniform of the Brooklyn Brawlers as if it were a cape for the classic loin cloth costume of a Greek soldier.
Concentrate, Cody, I told myself. Errant thoughts wouldn’t help me.
Home game. Second of a three game series. Top of the sixth. Two outs. Only my sixth game with the New England Riders and, thankfully, so far so good.
I imagined my new ranking after striking out the fabled Spartan. I could do this.Hadto do this.
Wound up. Zeroed in on my target like a sniper.
Leg kick. Stride forward. Stretched. Released…
No.My thoughts electrified my body faster than my eyes could register. The moment the ball left my hand I knew something was wrong.
By the time I opened my eyes from the world’s fastest blink, I watched the ball speed toward the Spartan…
And then peg his left shoulder. He leaned away as the ball nailed him in the meat of his shoulder. He threw his bat, arms going wide as he took a single step toward me and mouthed the words, “What the fuck?”
My eyes went wide. I slapped my heart with my right hand four times. “My fault. My fault,” I mouthed.
Our catcher popped to his feet to bar Leo’s clear path to me. The umpire lifted his mask to bark out a few commands. The dugouts of both teams churned with unease. Had I set a spark to the dry tinder that was the age-old animosity between New England and Brooklyn? Watson’s firm guidance of Leo was successful—the Spartan jogged to first base while he regarded me with resentment. The full-sleeve tattoos of both arms swung by his sides and I half expected him to give me the finger.
By the time I put my foot to the rubber, the agitation of the dugouts had quieted. No raging forest fire. For now.
“Changeup,” Watson told me through PitchCom. The Brawlers’ second baseman, Rivera, had stepped up to the plate.
Wind up. Release.
Rivera hit a weak grounder to the shortstop, who couldn’t turn the double play. Rivera singled and Leo made it to second.
Get your shit together, I demanded of myself. I always had the power to push out the noise. To hyper-focus. But something about Leo had thrown me off. I needed to find my center.
The next pitch came in. Another wind up. But no release.
Watson gave me the signal for a pickoff move. Directly behind me, Leo was stealing for third. I shifted my height and pivoted in a wild but controlled rotation. Found my moving target, like a BB gun trained on a traveling yellow duck for a carnival shooting game.
Fired.
But my aim was offagain. Leo had been sliding headfirst toward third. In horror, I watched as the ball left my hand and instead of sailing easily to the glove of the third baseman, pegged Leoin the freaking ass. Time slowed. I sucked in a deep breath, prepared for the worst as my body electrified with fear and anger.
