Double Edge | WATTYS 2023 SHORTLIST + AMBYS 2023 WINNER

Chapter 21

My feet pushed off the dirt. He did, too. Red and green crashed in the middle of Pauline Park like a Christmas tree. The glint in his eyes were ornaments, shifting in the shade; dark, then light. Flickering like surging bulbs. As our forearms hit and pain rushed through my bones, I grinned. This. Yes. I loved this.

"Bone shields have taken damage. Ninety-five percent."

With both hands, I grabbed Mark's head. I squeezed and attempted to press his skull, to crack it. But he lifted his knee. He knocked right into my ribs. I let him go as I sucked in a breath. I shouted as he raised his knee again. "Shit!"

I blocked the next kick, catching his leg with my arms. I held him there. As he balanced on one leg, he grinned at me; and winked. "You can't beat me," he hissed.

I dropped his leg with enough force to bring him forward. His shoulders knocked into my chest, but that was my opportunity. I grabbed his arms, gripped his shirt, and flung him over my shoulder.

He landed on his back, laughing. "Oh yeah," he said, pushing himself up on his elbows. His mechanical eye focused on me, moving in and out; the circle within the iris widened and shortened like a camera lens. Was that what it looked like? "Paxton never let me test this shit out." He stood. "They said to wait."

"Wait?" I was done waiting. I spent years waiting. Sitting in a cell, rotting away. Down on a medical bed, promised freedom in exchange for my soul. Done—I was done. I wasn't sitting anywhere; I didn't want my soul back. I wanted to be rid of the greed that ruined my life, for the chance to be a good father. Newer enhancements or not, Mark wasn't taking that from me. Because if he's alive, I won't have that chance.

"You talk too much shit!" Before Mark said anything else, I lunged at him again. I punched him; my fist collided with his jaw. The vibrations from his bones rattled me; in a good way. His electricity clashed with mine. Red surged through my brown skin.

"So do you!" Mark swung back. Twice. The first swing hit my left cheek; the second struck my right. The motion was so quick, that I only caught the first hit. The second felt like a bee sting; swift, painless at first.

Stumbling back, I held my chin as I leaned against the tree. Mark came for me again. I looked into his eyes; they both flashed red. It caught me off guard. Two mechanical eyes, two lines of sight. Is he that advanced?

He punched me six times in the gut before grabbing my shoulders, throwing me into the dirt. The moment my face met grass, my eyes widened. I tried to suck in air. Nothing. I can't fight him like this.

"I told you—"

He's faster than me. I didn't expect this.

"—I'm better than you." Mark lifted me by my collar. Half of my body hung above the ground. Without the pressure, I found oxygen. And spit. He focused on hitting me; on winning. He couldn't remember us. Best friends since kids. Brothers. I need to distract him. Put his mind elsewhere.

Mark kneeled in front of me and looked into my eyes. "I was designed to be better. Ever since school—it was a fact."

"Bone shields at seventy-five percent. Adrenaline levels dropping."

I need to remind him of who we are. "When we were kids," I trailed my tongue along my bottom lip and tasted blood, "you were the runt."

Mark's brow furrowed. He scowled but didn't respond. The blood settled on my tongue before I spit it into the grass. "You were smaller than me. You are smaller than me."

"No." Mark lifted me to my feet and hit me again.

I grunted but kept my focus. "When I saw you tonight, I thought I had to save you. Little Mark, Mickey Mouse, needed me."