A Prey Among Predators
After Practice...
The locker room empties out after practice, leaving Nolan, Brett, and Clayton as the last ones in the room.
Nolan stands up to pull up his sweatpants as he hears Brett remark, “So we track him.”
He peers down at him, seeing him put on his shoes. “You track him. I follow you.” He sits back down and slips on his own shoes.
Brett perks up at him. “You got a scent?”
He halts midway into tying his shoes. He eyes him. “What?”
Brett straightens up as he gazes at the ceiling. “Do you have something that his scent is on?” He lands his eyes on him. “So that I can track him?”
“Uh…” Nolan gradually laces up his shoes. “...how do I know…?”
“Do you have something he has touched?”
“Um…” Nolan straightens up, grabs his jacket beside him, and extends it out in front of him. He pauses before his eyes light up.
“Oh.” He turns to Brett. “He touched this.” He holds his jacket out to him.
Brett takes it into his two hands like a ball and stuffs it against his nose. With closed eyes, he draws in a deep breath. He then lifts head and works his nose in the air. His head rotates to Nolan, having him face him.
He snaps his eyes open just as disappointment lands on his face. “That’s you.”
Brett sniffs at the jacket as he revolves it under his nose. Then, he exclaims, “Ah, here’s a different scent.” He pushes the specific area of the jacket against his nose, closes his eyes, and inhales slowly.
He lifts his head and snaps his eyes open. His eyes are sharp. “Okay. I got it.”
Brett stuffs the jacket into his arm, stands up, uses his other arm to sling his hockey bag over his shoulder, and ambles across the room.
Nolan rises to his feet, gathers his bag, and follows him up the room.
As Brett approaches the opening, he halts right next to Clayton. Nolan stops behind him and gazes at the captain. The captain is occupied at his stall by cleaning his visor with a rag.
“We’re tracking him,” Brett tells him.
Clayton lifts his head up at him with an indifferent expression. “Good.” He pulls a rabbit’s foot charm out from his pocket and holds it up. “Good luck.”
Brett cracks a grin. “Thanks.” He then takes a large whiff from the jacket again before disappearing through the opening.
Nolan stays in his place, eyeing the rabbit’s foot in horror.
Clayton captures his teammate’s scared expression. With a press of his lips, he lowers the rabbit’s foot and gives him a thumbs up.
Nolan rolls his lips, dips his head and exits the locker room.
