Ultra by Carroll David

the forest, and the gurgling stream sounded like babies laughing. The trail became steeper and zigzagged back and forth in sharp switchbacks. It felt like we were climbing stairs.
    I watched the backs of Kneecap’s brown legs as we jogged. I could tell that she was starting to hurt. Sure enough, pretty soon she slowed down and started walking. I ran up beside her.
    “How can you do this?” she gasped.
    “Do what?” I said.
    “Run a hundred miles like this? It’s insane.”
    The corners of her mouth were turned down.
    “I have superpowers, remember?”
    “Oh, right,” she said. “I forgot.”
    We spent the next 15 minutes climbing what my dad had called the apron of the mountain. Only this time there wasn’t any mist, so we could see how high we were getting. When we came to a clearing, I saw a tiny boat crossing Hither Lake, half a kilometre below. Little black waves fanned out behind it like a capital V. I stopped while Kneecap gasped for breath. “You’re not even breathing hard,” she said, looking at me. “We really need to get you a spandex costume.”
    She was being sarcastic, but I figured I’d play along. “I need a superhero name first,” I said.
    “How about Puke Man?” Kneecap suggested.
    Ha. Funny. Play it cool, I thought. “Doesn’t really have a great ring to it,” I said.
    “I guess not,” agreed Kneecap. “How about Skeletor?”
    “I’m not that skinny,” I said.
    “Sure you are. You’ve got legs like a chicken.”
    “Do not,” I said.
    “Do too,” said Kneecap. “They’re kinda cute though.”
    We continued climbing. Kneecap said, “Forget about the name. What you need is a good catchphrase.”
    “Like how the Hulk says, ‘It’s clobbering time!’”
    “Yeah, but that one’s already taken,” said Kneecap.
    I thought for a moment. “What about: Best Foot Forward?”
    Kneecap shrieked with laughter. “That’s the lamest thing I ever heard!”
    I laughed too. It
was
pretty lame, I had to admit. “How about Run Like Snot!” I offered.
    “Not bad,” said Kneecap. “How about To The Finish Line And Beyond!”
    “Meh,” I said.
    “Wait a second,” said Kneecap. “I’ve got it. Kick Some Shins!”
    Her face was bright red, so I suggested we take a break. We stepped back from the cliff face and sat down in the shade.
    “Seriously,” she said. “Kick Some Shins. That’s pretty good, right?”
    “Good-ish,” I said.
    Kneecap glanced at the forest behind us. “Aren’t you worried about the bears?” she asked.
    “Not yet,” I said. “But ask me again tonight, when it gets dark.”
    She crawled back to the ledge and looked down at the valley. She shivered. “Have you been singing much?” she asked.
    “A bit,” I said.
    “Don’t tell me,” she said. “‘Run Baby Run’?”
    “I’ve written other songs besides that one,” I said.
    She smiled. “I know. I’m just teasing.”
    Just then, I heard a familiar noise. Jingle bells. I swung around.
    “Hey there, Lucky Number Thirteen!”
    Kara was bounding up the trail behind us.
    “I thought you were
ahead
of me,” I said.
    “I was,” Kara laughed. “Until my body fell apart, that is. I spent a half hour cooling my legs in the lake.”
    Her knee was wrapped in a tensor bandage.
    “What happened?” I asked.
    “It’s nothing,” she said. “The cold water brought down theswelling a bit, plus I’ve got lots of Advil.” She turned to Kneecap and threw out her hand. “Hi there,” she said. “I’m Kara.”
    “This is my friend Kneecap,” I said.
    They shook hands. “Pleased to meet you,” said Kara. “Did you lose your number, or are you a bandit?”
    “What’s a bandit?” said Kneecap.
    “Someone who runs the race illegally.”
    Kneecap thought about this. “I’m not running the race,” she said. “I’m just here for moral support.”
    “Sort of,” I said.
    Kneecap glared at me.
    A red squirrel scolded us from the top of a tree. Kara stepped around the two of us and