Read Online Gang Tackle by Eric Howling - Free Book Online Page B

The Saints still had to win one of their last two games to make the playoffs.
    Darnell hiked the ball to himself and Jamal took off from the line. He ran straight for ten yards, zigged right, then zagged left and sprinted for the sideline. Darnell dropped back and fired the pigskin. It was the first time he had seen that pattern, and he missed his target by a mile. The ball went sailing over Jamal’s head, landing out of bounds and rolling all the way to the parking lot. Jamal jogged over to get the ball. But someone had beaten him to it.
    “Looking for this?” Pedro asked, holding the ball in his tattooed arm.
    “Hand it over, man.”
    “Maybe we make a trade. I give you the ball if you do another job for me.”
    “I didn’t even get paid for the last one.” Jamal threw up his hands.
    “If we don’t get the goods, you don’t get the cash.”
    “I’m done working for you. I’ll never need money that bad.”
    “That’s not what I hear,” Pedro said. “Rumor has it you need twenty grand. Looking at your uniform, I can see why. You look lame, bro.”
    Darnell ran over to where Jamal stood. He narrowed his eyes. “Everything okay here?”
    “Yeah, I was just leaving.” Pedro smiled, showing his gold tooth. “Let me know if you change your mind. I could lend you the money.” Pedro flipped the ball to Jamal and laughed. Then he turned and walked back to the lime-green Chevy hidden behind some bushes near the parking lot.

Chapter Seventeen
    Jamal clanged his locker shut. He shuffled down the hall to the computer room. When he had a spare period between classes, this was his first stop. Today it was between math and socials. A few of the other players hung out there too. Sometimes he went to do his homework. Sometimes to work on his football game. And sometimes just to surf the Net. Today, all he wanted to do was chill and forget about losing the uniforms.
    Darnell was already there. He was sitting at a row of computers and hardly looked up when Jamal walked in. He was too focused on what was in front of him.
    Jamal slid into the seat beside him and glanced over. His eyes grew wide. Darnell was busy playing a game on his phone. “What are you doing, man?” Jamal said. He kept his voice low so the teacher at the front of the class wouldn’t hear him.
    “Just playing a little Football Freakout .” Darnell’s thumbs tapped the screen frantically, like he had a nervous twitch.
    “You know you’re not supposed to play games in here. You’re supposed to be studying and stuff.”
    “I can’t help it, bro. It’s addictive.”
    “So have you come up with any ideas for new unis?” Jamal asked. “We’re desperate.”
    “I know,” Darnell said, still tapping. “We look like a bunch of clowns out there. The other teams aren’t going to take us seriously.”
    “There must be something we can do to make money,” Jamal said.
    Darnell hit the Pause button. “I started to think about it. Came up with the usual ways to make a few extra bucks. Collecting bottles, washing cars, bake sales. I figure if we’re really lucky we can make a thousand dollars.”
    “So we’d only be nineteen thousand short.” Jamal laughed, but he knew it wasn’t funny. “Might buy us a few helmets and balls, but not much more. We need a bigger idea.”
    Darnell’s eyes darted back to his phone. He started tapping the small screen again.
    “So that’s it?” Jamal asked. “No more ideas?”
    “Not right now. I’m too busy playing this awesome game I downloaded.”
    “How much?”
    “Just ninety-nine cents.”
    “That’s cheap. How can they make money charging so little?”
    “Are you kidding?” Darnell asked. “Thousands of people download it all over North America. They make a ton of coin. All we need is our own game and then we’d have it made.”
    Suddenly a light went on in Jamal’s brain. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? A huge grin spread across his face. “Come over to my house tonight. Tell Rico