The Multi to his left nodded, and walked over to a small metal box. He opened it and pulled something out that Malcolm recognized. Both Anna and Tapestry wore one, a small metal arm bracelet with a thick, high tech clasp. None of the Multis wore them, however.
Of course not. He’d have to put a new one on each time he made a new copy.
The thought made him consider Multi’s abilities more carefully. He wondered if all of them were seeing out of the same perspective, and sharing memories. It didn’t seem like they were. They weren’t smoking their cigarettes in sync with each other, at least.
“Let me see your wrist,” said the main Multi.
Malcolm held his arm out, and another question came to mind.
“Savior mentioned sprytes and demons in the video,” he said. “The Champion Authority hunts them down, right?”
Multi nodded. He pulled the stabilizer around Malcolm’s wrist and secured the clasp.
“It’s a dirty job, but someone has to do it,” said the balding man. “The same unknown force that gives us our powers causes some people to turn into, well, for lack of a better term, monsters. Sprytes and demons still look a bit like people, but they lack the empathy and mental capacity required to live without destroying and killing.”
“Right,” said Malcolm. “I know. My family… was killed by one.”
“I’m sorry,” said Multi.
“It was on the first day, at the very start of the Phenomenon,” he said. “Do you have lists of active sprytes and demons? Anything that I could look at to get a sense of which one might have done it?”
Multi frowned and looked away from him.
“Trust me son, that’s not a good path for you to go down. Getting revenge won’t bring them back, and it will only lead you down a dark road. But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
I’d appreciate him being more helpful.
“Anyway,” continued Multi. “Can I assume that you’d be willing to work with us? You might not ever reach the point where your wind manipulation is strong enough for you to fly, or make tornados, or anything like that, but you could still be quite useful.”
Again, Multi’s words scraped at him a little bit. Malcolm had been dreaming of flying since the very first jump he’d done from rooftop to rooftop that morning. He wasn’t ready to rule it out for himself, just yet.
“Sure,” he said. “I want to help. At the very least, I’ll be doing what I can to prevent anyone else’s family from being murdered by those monsters.”
“Great,” said Multi. He coughed into the crook of his arm and quickly shook Malcolm’s hand in goodbye. “Tapestry will serve as your mentor for the next few weeks. She’ll walk you through the basics, and help you make smart decisions. Speaking of which, the media is in a frenzy over all the shit you pulled this morning.”
“Uh…”
“No more frolicking around on roof tops,” said Multi. “And certainly, no more frolicking around with naked women whose windows you fall through.”
Malcolm shrugged.
“It takes two to frolic,” he said.
Multi didn’t look amused.
“You might have to do an interview to get the local news to calm down about that,” said Multi. “Again, Tapestry will be the one helping you with that. For now, just don’t do anything stupid.”
Malcolm nodded.
Simple enough.
Tapestry spoke with Multi briefly, both of them keeping their voices too low for him to hear. Then, she walked him out of the dome. It was late afternoon, and it took Malcolm’s eyes a second to adjust to the brightness of the setting sun.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in,” said Tapestry, as they climbed into the BMW. “I’m glad you decided to hear Multi out. We really do need more champions on our side in the area.”
Malcolm nodded.
“It feels almost like a dream,” he said. “Like I’m just waiting to wake up. It doesn’t feel real, you know?”
Tapestry nodded. The sun was in her face, and it made her blonde hair look infused with fire as she pulled the car out of the parking area. She glanced over as soon as they were on the road, flashing a smile at him. Her face was beautiful, and there was understanding in her eyes. It made Malcolm feel a little better, to know that she’d been through it, too.
“You’ll get used to it,” she said. “There’s still plenty for you to learn about being a champion. The orientation can be a little overwhelming, and we’ll take it slow for the next few days.”
The two of them headed back down the rough dirt road, and onto the main road. Malcolm watched the trees pass by them as they headed back into Vanderbrook. Rush hour traffic usually wasn’t too bad, given how small the town was, but it did take them a little longer than the trip out.
“What was your life like before you became a champion?” he asked. “How did it change things for you?”
Tapestry chuckled at the question. She smiled at him again, and seemed to consider her answer.
“My life… was different,” she said. “Getting my powers changed everything.”
“That’s a pretty vague answer,” said Malcolm. “I’m being serious. I want to know more about you.”
“I like being vague,” said Tapestry. “And I’m aware that you want to know about me.”
She gave him a look that managed to seem chastising and flirtatious simultaneously. They took the last corner onto his street, and she slowed to a stop in front of his apartment. Malcolm hadn’t given her his address.
They’re already collecting info on me. What else do they know?
“And here we are,” said Tapestry. “Get lots of sleep tonight.”
“Alright.” He nodded to Tapestry, and then smiled. “Do you want to come up and hang out for a bit?”
Tapestry just smiled.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Malcolm,” she said. “Wind Runner.”
“Wind Runner,” he repeated. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
He waited, wondering if he could change her mind by phrasing the invitation a little differently. Tapestry’s reaction made him feel like he’d just given a love note to a teacher in grade school. Her expression was a mixture of amusement, understanding, and a gentle assertion of boundaries.
“Uh… Have a safe drive back,” he said.
“Have a nice night, Malcolm,” said Tapestry.
He got out of the car and headed into his apartment.
CHAPTER 8
Malcolm’s one bedroom apartment was cozy and simple, which had always suited him just fine. The kitchen area was small and crammed into the corner, and he didn’t have a proper dining table. He had a couch, a flat screen TV, and a PlayStation in the main room, and that was about it. There were no rugs, paintings, posters, or further decorations of any kind.
It was all paid for by the settlement he’d gotten from the insurance company after the explosion, and those funds had been running low for the past few months. Malcolm had previously been considering picking up a part time job to make ends meet, but discovering his powers and joining the Champion Authority had, as Tapestry had phrased it, changed everything.
Are they going to pay me for helping them? Or at least supply room and board, so I don’t have to keep renting?
He considered both questions along with a half dozen others as he walked around his apartment aimlessly. He was hungry, and took a slice of leftover pizza out of the fridge to eat as he made his way into his bedroom.
Like the rest of the apartment, the décor was rather Spartan. Malcolm had a bed, a desk, a dresser, and a couple of photos of his brother and mother. He’d never been a materialistic person, and never really felt as though he needed much more.
His life was, or at least had been, very simple. He took classes at the community college, came home, did his homework, played video games, and found time to eat during the time in between.
The boring and repetitive nature of his life had never bothered him, but it felt like an egregious thing to r
eturn to, now that his life had changed so drastically. Malcolm finished the pizza, knowing that he couldn’t just hang around his apartment and wait for Tapestry to show up the next day to start playing with his powers.
“If I’m going to be a champion,” he said, speaking out loud. “Does that mean… I need a costume?”
Most of the champions he’d seen on TV didn’t bother trying to conceal their identities. Malcolm knew that after the attention the media had given him earlier in the day, it was pointless for him to hope for any real anonymity. Even so, there was something appealing to him about having a costume, in the same way a soldier might take pride in a uniform, or a surgeon in their hospital scrubs.
He settled on a pair of black Adidas track pants and a grey Nike windbreaker, wondering if it would help him live up to his name. It was starting to get dark outside, and Malcolm cautiously left through his apartment’s front door, heading down the stairway he shared with his neighbors and back outside.
The neighborhood he lived in had seen better days. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, exactly, just a little rough in spots. The house next to his apartment was abandoned, and the lawn was overgrown and speckled with beer bottles.
The park across the street was a common hangout spot for junkies and thieves. Malcolm briefly considered hanging around at the edge of it for a while and waiting for a crime to happen before tossing the idea out.
I might have superpowers, but I am far from a superhero. Probably best if I play it safe for tonight.
He considered what he could do that would be a good use of his time, and then remembered the girl from that morning. He hadn’t even gotten her name until Tapestry had shown him the Instagram post. Would it be creepy for him to head back to her house and pay her a surprise visit?
Yes. It would be.
Lacking any better options, Malcolm walked down the street as a pedestrian, headed nowhere in particular. There were a couple of old, abandoned warehouses not far from his neighborhood, on the outskirts of town, and he figured that they’d be as good of a place for him to play around with his wind manipulation as any.
The last vestiges of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon as he approached the empty concrete lot of the disused industrial park. Malcolm looked back toward the populated section of town, scanning the sidewalk to make sure that nobody was around, and then reached out for the wind.
It felt so natural, even more so than it had earlier that morning. It didn’t feel as though he was using a superpower, or really, doing anything more difficult than moving a part of his body. The wind was just an extra muscle, one that he could shift and flex as he wished.
He pulled up a powerful gust and pushed it against his chest and face, leaning into it. His hair flew back behind him, and the pressure was enough for him to trust some of his weight to, supporting enough of his body to let him shift his center of balance dangerously far forward.
It reminded him of when he’d been a kid, and had to walk into the wind on particularly windy days. Malcolm held his position where he was for a moment, and then pulled the wind behind him, instead.
With the wind at his back, he practiced the skill he’d discovered by accident that morning, the one which he’d apparently taken his name from. Wind running let him move faster than any human could, and turn on a dime, if he wanted to, the wind providing both acceleration and brake.
There were a couple of old trash cans behind one of the warehouses. Malcolm pulled them into the air and swirled them around him, wondering how much damage they’d do to someone with a direct hit.
He played with them for a few minutes, feeling a bit like a child with a new toy. He turned his attention to the wall of the warehouse, next, wondering if there was a way he could get up to the roof in lieu of using a fire escape.
Malcolm pulled at the wind with all the strength he had, testing to see if he could summon enough air power to go fully airborne and fly. It wasn’t enough, and it was a little exhausting to attempt. The sensation was a mixture of a strong head rush along with something slightly euphoric.
He glanced down at the stabilizer on his wrist, wondering if it was working like Multi had said it was supposed to. The bracelet felt heavy around his wrist and cold to the touch. It didn’t make any noise, or light up, or give any sign of serving its function.
Weird. Though, maybe it is working, and my powers still just aren’t strong enough.
He decided to try something else. Breaking into a light jog, he ran toward the warehouse, pulling the wind with him on his approach. He leapt up as he came within reach and planted a foot solidly on the building’s graffiti covered concrete wall, trying to kick off and up.
With the wind at his back, he stayed close enough to the wall of the building to kick out with his other leg and start the process over. It was like something out of a video game, wall climbing by kicking continuously. The wind pushed him up and kept him in position, and his legs did the rest.
It was the next best thing to flying, and it only took him a couple of seconds to reach the top and pull himself onto the building. Malcolm let out a satisfied sigh and sat down, taking a minute to recover. His body was tingling, and though the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, it made it a little hard for him to think straight.
A noise came from the abandoned warehouse across from the one he was on. Malcolm stood up slowly, frowning and glancing around, hoping that he wasn’t about to get ambushed by the police or a busybody night security guard. The sound was coming from within the other warehouse, and after a moment’s consideration, he leapt the distance between the two buildings with the assistance of the wind.
Part of the building’s roof had crumbled over the years, and Malcolm could look down on the scene below. Four men had a woman cornered, shining bright flashlights in her face.
For a moment, his mind jumped back to night security, or the police. Then, he listened to what they were saying.
“Nobody would ever know,” said a gruff voice. “We could all have our fun tonight. There’s nobody here but us!”
“I’m with John,” said another voice. “It took us forever to get her in here. Might as well get our rocks off. She’s pretty fucking hot, all things considered.”
Malcolm sighed.
Looks like I’ll be playing crime stopper tonight, after all.
CHAPTER 9
Malcolm took a step into open air, summoning the wind as he fell through the hole in the building’s roof toward the ground. He landed not far from the men, dropping to one knee in the classic superhero style.
The men’s conversation immediately ceased. Two of them turned to face him, the other two keeping their flashlights on the woman. She was curled up in a ball, with the hood of her sweater pulled up over her head.
“Gentleman,” said Malcolm. “You should leave that woman alone.”
“Who the hell are you to be telling us-”
Malcolm pushed his hand forward, summoning as much of the wind as he could and slamming it in the direction of the voice. He saw the man fly off his feet as though he’d slipped on ice. His flashlight flew up into the air, and his head struck the concrete hard.
“That’s a concussion,” said Malcolm. “They’re super bad for you, from what I hear.”
He used a small trail of wind to catch the man’s flashlight, swirling it through the air for a second before striking another man across the face with it. He went down, and Malcolm couldn’t help but smile.
That’s two knockouts in two seconds. At this rate…
He was still smiling when a shoulder thudded into him from behind, catching him completely off guard and knocking him to the ground. The time in between the attack and when he hit was too short for him to cushion his fall with the wind, and all the breath was forced out of his lungs as he landed.
The fifth man who’d surprised him was smart. He followed the attack up with a hard kick to Malcolm’s ribs. The pain was intense, and it kept Malcolm from being able to focus enough to reach for his powers an
d counterattack.
“Get the girl,” said the fifth man. “And get the others moving. I’ll deal with this fucker.”
“Brett, hold on a sec,” said another man. “He’s the dude from the news! Wind Runner!”
The fifth man hesitated instead of pressing on the attack. It was a mistake. Malcolm had time to take a breath and get a sense of the situation. One of them was dragging the girl out of the building. She was by the door they’d come in through.
Malcolm pushed the man standing over him back with the wind, and then pulled a massive gust down against the hole in the roof he’d fallen in through. Dust and rocks cascaded into the room, obscuring everyone’s vision and striking at least one of the thugs with something painful enough to elicit a grunt of pain.
Malcolm charged toward the girl with the wind at his back. The man dragging her out of the warehouse didn’t see him coming. A quick push was all it took, and then he had the girl in his arms as he took off running across the concrete lot outside.
He made it around the corner of another building and hesitated, wondering if it was alright to leave the men able bodied.
They were talking about rape. But it’s not like I can just murder them in cold blood?
He had a conscience, and on top of that, he wasn’t sure if it would have even been something he could have accomplished with just the wind. If he’d had a knife, or something else dangerous to fling at them, sure. Otherwise, it would still be five against one.
Malcolm listened for a minute, expecting the men to press after him in their search. He was a little surprised when they didn’t. They kept their flashlights on, and he was able to track them as they left the industrial park and headed back in the direction of town.
“Well that’s convenient…” he muttered. He was still holding the girl, and gently carried her into the light of one of the few working lampposts nearby.
She was wearing an oversized black hoodie. Malcolm gently pulled the hood back and froze at what he saw. Her skin had a distinct, purple hue to it. He glanced up, as though there was a chance that it was just being caused by the effect of the streetlight or the ambient light of the sky above, but it was undeniable.
Wind Runner (Vanderbrook Champions Book 1) Page 4
