Page 21 of In This Iron Ground
“Yes,” Damien responded, word garbled by the fingers digging into his cheeks.
“Good. Now, work.”
Damien worked.
**********
Damien and Hakan took advantage of the warming weather to sprawl over long, flat cushions on the porch.
“Your face would fly off if you could run that fast,” Damien said, flipping the page of the graphic novel they were reading.
“She’s not goingthatfast.”
“How the hell would you know has fast she’s going? Look at all these speed lines. And how long did it take her to get from one point of Manhattan to the other?”
“I could do that.”
“Oh,please. As if you’re that fast.”
“Faster thanyou.”
“Oh, excuse my humanness, Mr. Howly McWolf-Man,” Damien teased. He tensed for a moment, looking at Hakan to see if the nickname had offended him. Hakan rolled his eyes.
“Race you,” he challenged, raising his eyebrows at Damien.
“Fine!”
Damien jumped up and Hakan followed him away from the house, nearing the forest where a stretch of grass made the perfect racing track.
“Alright. First one to get to that big boulder over there wins,” Damien said, pointing. Hakan nodded, smirking and rolling his shoulders. Damien didn’t bother tamping down the roll of his eyes.
“One…two…three!”
Damien bolted forwards but he needn’t have bothered. Hakan streaked past. It wasn’t like in the movies, where the person becomes a complete blur. Damien could see Hakan’s body strain forwards at an inhuman speed until, all of a sudden, he was at the finishing line.
“Wow…” Damien couldn’t help but say. Hakan walked back, shrugging in false humbleness. “Let’s try again.”
“You sure like losing, huh?”
“Shut up,” he dared to say. Hakan didn’t tell him off. “Let’s go.”
They got into position. At theThree!, Hakan bolted past, turned around, raced back, and then to the finishing line again. All before Damien had gotten three quarters of the way forward.
“I think you lost,” Hakan said smugly. Damien stuck his tongue out, but he couldn’t keep the impressed grin off his face.
“How many times can you do that?” Damien asked.
Hakan started running. Running and running until Damien felt dizzy trying to keep up just looking at him.
“Okay, okay! Jeez,” Damien said. Hakan stopped. He was barely winded.
“I bet you’re not that strong, though,” Damien challenged out of pure curiosity to see what a werewolf was capable of. Of what Hakan was capable of.
“Bring it.”
They walked over to the shed where the logs were kept, a few left over from winter. Damien heaved one up, larger than the usual log. He had to use both of his arms to cradle the wood against his chest and then use his whole body to throw it on the grass. It landed a mere foot from him.
Damien turned to Hakan, raising his eyebrows. Hakan actually laughed, not mocking but loudly, obviously enjoying himself.
