Hockey
I had four best friends. We lived for hockey. I was the goalie. I had a crippled leg and foot, so I couldn't wear skates. But my leather moccasins were fine. I was quick and could slide across the goalmouth really fast. They called me "Moccasin Danny."
The red 4x4 spun sideways as the driver slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel. The truck skidded toward Dakota's truck. I couldn't see the driver because the passenger side was sliding toward us. I could see the passenger though. He wore a mask over his face. And he was pointing a rifle at us through the open window.
Big Frank tapped on my driver's side window with the tire iron. It was a gentle tap, but it sounded like thunder. I shook my head. He lifted his hand. Swung the tire iron down. I barely managed to shift out of the way as it crashed through the window. Pieces of glass sprayed my leather hockey coat and my head.
