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.21.

Darryl's POV:

I found myself carrying a 6 foot long metal rod with a red flag at the top, walking through a trail in a woods big enough for a car to drive through. I wasn't the only one though, maybe about 50 kids walked in a big group, each one carrying different colored flags on 6 foot poles. It was the cross country team, the coach had decided that the whole team working as a collective would be much more efficient.

Zak was walking beside me with the heavy knocker in his hands, talking to a boy with a yellow flag. The kid had brown hair and beaming eyes, staring at Skeppy as the ex-baseball boy spoke.

"It's fourth quarter and the score is 8-7, our team is losing. I have only one strike left... and I'm staring out into the field. I notice that there's three of my teammates out there, one on each base. I knew this had to be my chance," Zak explained to the boy.

I smiled at his story-telling, I found it quite wholesome.

"With the bases loaded, I watched as the ball left the pitcher's fingers. Everything moved in slow motion. I took a deep breath and focused on the ball hurdling towards me, preparing the bat in my hands," Zak elaborated. "With my eyes on the ball, I swung." He added a pause in his story for dramatic effect. "The crowd was silent, the sound of the ball connecting with my bat seemed to echo throughout the stadium." Zak paused again.

I stared at him with interest.

"Everyone watches the ball fly... and... and... the ball lands in the bleachers!" Zak exclaims, making the boy's eyes gleam. "The crowd cheers! Each runner sprints towards home, including me! The score is now 11-8! It's a home run! It's a grand slam! It's one of the best plays in the history of North West High School!"

"That's so awesome..." The boy murmured in awe. "I'm Clay by the way," He introduced himself after Skeppy told him the story.

"Nice to meet you-" Skeppy's greeting was cut off by a shout from the cross country coach.

"BLUE FLAG NEEDED!" A girl behind us rushes up to the coaches side, to see a white 'X' spray painted into the ground. Zak follows her as she sticks the long pole into the grass. Skeppy lifts the heavy weight by the handles, and drops it on the flag, knocking it into the dirt.

"Nice job," I praised him, since he seemed proud of himself for using the tool correctly. He then flexed his arm muscles.

"Look at me! I'm freaking buff!" He exclaimed, causing me to let out a laugh.

The pattern continued. The coach shouted out a color, a cross country member with the correct color stabbed the flag into the 'X', then Zak knocked it into the ground. The black haired boy slowly fell behind the group, busy with dropping the weight on poles. I walked more towards the front with Clay.

Eventually, the group strung out more along the trail. An hour had passed, several smaller groups formed as we walked the path, spread apart pretty far. The group all the way in the back was probably a quarter mile away from the group all the way in the front, that's how spread out we were.

Around an hour and a half is when I heard the scream.

I spun on my heels. It was a feminine scream, it had come from one of the groups in the back. Everyone went silent. "What was that?" Clay finally asked.

Suddenly, I saw one of the seniors on the team sprinting. "COACH!! WHERE'S COACH?!" He was shouting, running from the group in the back to the group in the front.

"Woah woah... what happened?" I asked with concern.

The student stopped, out of breath. "It's Skeppy.. he's bleeding everywhere... it's so bad I NEED A COACH!" He screamed, beginning to run again.