Jason Higgins

The new shipment of sports equipment for the New Yoronto Dodos had arrived late. The delivery guy, a lanky kid with a nervous look, quickly apologized, saying he was stuck in traffic. The strong smell of fast food and cigarettes made Jason doubt that story, but he just gave the guy a friendly smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before sending him off. No point in worrying about it now. Instead, he got to work, lifting the heavy crates into the storage room before they could be left outside overnight.

With practiced ease, he hoisted one of the heavy wooden crates. Years of helping out at his dad’s moving company had made him stronger than he looked. His lean frame didn’t show much muscle—unless he was actually using his strength. Then, his shirt would stretch just slightly over his arms and shoulders.

The training ground was empty at this hour. The sun hung low in the sky, painting it in warm shades of orange and purple. The air smelled of grass, dirt, and the cool metal of the sports equipment. One by one, Jason carried the crates inside until only three were left. Focused on his routine, he didn’t notice that his shoelace had come undone.

As he walked past the open storage room door, his shoelace caught on a doorstop. He stumbled, flailed his arms to regain balance, but it was no use. He crashed forward, hitting the ground hard. Behind him, the heavy door slammed shut, and as his legs kicked out, they knocked over a nearby rack. Bats and sticks tumbled down on top of him in a noisy mess.

Groaning, Jason pushed the scattered equipment off himself and rubbed his shoulder. A dull ache pulsed there, but the real problem was the door—it had locked behind him.

His eyes moved to the small window at the back of the room. Too high up and too narrow to be an easy escape. And, of course, it only opened a tiny bit. His phone? Safely tucked in his jacket—outside, hanging on the other doorknob beside the keys for the shad. Perfect.

Sighing, he glanced at the shelves lining the walls. Maybe he could climb up? Not the best idea, considering his well-earned reputation for clumsiness. But it was better than spending the night locked in here.

Just as he was about to pull himself up on a sturdy-looking shelf, he heard footsteps outside on the gravel path.

"Hey! I’m locked in here! Help, please!" Jason called, waiting for a response, listening to each sound. He could only hope whoever was out there heard him.