His thighs protest against the speed of his sprint. The pounding footsteps of his attackers are a distance behind him but he knows they’re gaining ground. Sweat rolls from his forehead, stinging his eyes; his lungs gasp for air.
He alters his path, hoping their pursuit will falter.
He looks up to find one of them standing in front of him, glaring.
He readies himself and takes aim. He says a silent prayer and then fires a perfect shot. The scowling man dives. He never had a chance.
The soccer ball wedges into the top right corner of the net. Goal!