Wind Runner: The Complete Collection

by Edmund Hughes

  He was waiting for a champion to show up. I bet he was glad it was someone like me, someone with at least a little empathy for monsters.

  Malcolm stood outside the cabin, feeling an odd mixture of uncertainty over what he should do next. Was he supposed just leave Melt’s body where it was, dripping blood onto the floor of a cabin in an abandoned summer camp? It seemed so cavalier, so empty and heartless. But what else could he do? He reported to Savior, not to the normal authorities.

  He took a minute to wipe the soles of his shoes through the grass, trying to get rid of the blood staining them. It didn’t really come off, and Malcolm decided it wasn’t that big of a deal. Melt was dead, his shoes had a bit of blood on them. The world would keep on turning.

  Malcolm looked around and eventually found a dirty tarp to cover Melt’s body. He resolved to come back, sooner rather than later, and give Melt the burial he deserved. He’d been a good man, and even as a demon, he’d kept a strong grip on his conscience. Thinking about it made Malcolm think of Danny, and the struggle his brother had been through, trying to transition back to living a life that didn’t involve killing and destruction.

  “You weren’t such a bad guy, Melt,” he said, looking back through the cabin’s door. “No. You did the best you could.”

  The night air had a chill to it that found its way under his clothes, and it made him feel restless as he headed back toward Vanderbrook. The note Melt had entrusted to him felt like it was burning a hole in Malcolm’s pocket, so he headed to the hospital before returning to Tapestry’s house. The sun had set completely by the time he’d arrived, and he was certain that it would be past visiting hours.

  Luckily, Malcolm remembered the floor and number of Greenthumb’s room. He spent a minute staring up at the hospital’s windows until he found the right one, and then carefully maneuvered up to it using wind manipulation.

  Greenthumb was still awake, and immediately turned to stare at him when he started tapping on the window. The bedridden champion smiled as he recognized him and gestured for him to come in. The window was unlocked, though sliding it open while simultaneously keeping himself in place with the wind was more challenging than expected.

  “Hey,” said Malcolm, as he slipped inside.

  “Wind Runner,” said Greenthumb. “What an unexpected surprise.”

  Malcolm nodded, suddenly feeling unsure of what to say.

  “Savior sent me after Melt,” he finally said.

  Greenthumb nodded. He was looking better, but he had lost weight and his usual ruddy complexion was pale.

  “I assumed as much,” said Greenthumb. “It was past time for Melt to be put down. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble for you.”

  Malcolm shook his head slowly.

  “Don’t worry,” Greenthumb added quickly. “I would have done the same thing, and so would have Melt, if the tables were turned. Monsters can’t be allowed to roam free.”

  “He did it himself,” Malcolm said. “He… shot himself.”

  Greenthumb looked puzzled. He tapped a finger on a gaunt cheekbone.

  “Strange,” he said. “If that was what he intended, I’m surprised he waited as long as he did.”

  Malcolm drew the note out of his pocket and passed it over to him. Greenthumb examined it as though it were evidence from a crime scene.

  “Interesting…” he said. “Melt was always the sentimental type, despite his less than charming disposition. What a shame.”

  Greenthumb set the note on his bed table. It was as though Malcolm had handed him a flyer in the street, or a piece of junk mail.

  He’ll read it eventually. I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t…

  “You look like you have a question for me,” said Greenthumb. “Please. Tell me what’s on your mind, Wind Runner.”

  “How do you do it?” asked Malcolm. “I mean, I know that’s an open ended question. But you’re… unaffected by this. How the hell can you be so… casual?”

  The word Malcolm wanted to use was detached, or perhaps even cold. Greenthumb wasn’t emotionless, Malcolm knew that from watching him interact with his girlfriend, and occasionally Anna. But when it came to his job, he was an unflinching machine.

  “I wish there was an easy answer that I could give you.” Greenthumb smiled ruefully. “The world… doesn’t make sense. Especially when viewed through the eyes of a champion. You have to learn to adapt to that senselessness.”

  Malcolm folded his arms. He wanted a better answer than that.

  “How did you manage it?” he asked.

  “I found things to hold onto,” said Greenthumb. “People to hold onto. People that need me to be… strong, for them.”

  His smile took on a sudden vulnerable quality.

  “I was not a strong man before I became a champion,” said Greenthumb. “Sometimes, what we are is just what’s needed at the time.”

  Malcolm considered his words.

  “Are you going to read the note Melt left you?” he asked.

  Greenthumb shrugged.

  “Would you, in my position?”

  “He was your partner,” said Malcolm.

  “I might read it…” said Greenthumb. “But understand that if I don’t, it’s because I need to be able to choose not to. Sometimes strength is about making the choice that lets you stay strong.”

  Malcolm let the silence hang for a moment. He licked his lips and started to turn back to the window.

  “Wind Runner,” said Greenthumb. “I’m going to be leaving the hospital in the next few days and returning to work. I’ll need a new partner.”

  He looked Malcolm pointedly and raised his eyebrows slightly.

  “You think I could do the work of a Field Champion?” asked Malcolm.

  “You already have,” said Greenthumb. “Melt’s dead, isn’t he?”

  Malcolm wanted to scream.

  Melt killed himself. Even as a demon, with a patchy memory and marginal self-restraint, he could do his duty.

  “I don’t think so,” he said.

  “Just give it some thought,” said Greenthumb. “I’d rather have someone I know than someone Savior picks for me. I wanted to ask Anna, but my girlfriend vetoed her as an option.”

  Malcolm smiled.

  “Gee, I wonder why,” he said.

  CHAPTER 32

  Malcolm knew that he needed to report in with Savior that night, but the temptation to take a quick rest was too enticing for him to ignore. He made a detour toward his apartment, deciding that it wouldn’t cost him more than twenty minutes to steal a shower and grab some food.

  He wearily dragged himself up the stairs and unlocked his apartment, feeling a bit of his tension melt away just from being home. His apartment was dark, and it took him a second to realize that he wasn’t alone. He turned the living room light on and readied himself for a fight.

  Rose was sitting on his couch. She wore a white halter top and black leggings with a pair of knee high brown boots. Her skin color was back to its normal pale purple hue, now that she was no longer undercover with Fantasy. Shadows swirled around her body, and her dark hair fell loose across her shoulders.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Malcolm.

  It was the only question that made sense to ask first, but also the one he felt like he needed the answer to the least. Emotions surged in his chest as he looked at the curves of her body. She wasn’t wearing a bra under her top, and it was apparently on the chilly side in his apartment.

  “I came to see you.” Rose stood up and walked toward him.

  “Okay,” said Malcolm, with a bit of venom in his tone. Rose frowned and raised an eyebrow at him.

  “You’re moody,” she observed. “Don’t tell me that this is about our little fight at the casino. That was work, for both of us.”

  “Work…” said Malcolm. “Do you always do your job, Rose? If Rain Dancer told you to kill somebody… would you do that, too?”

  “You think I’m here to kill you?” Rose smiled. “Real
ly…?”

  She stepped in closer to him, pushing her chest out slightly. Malcolm felt a little annoyed, though he couldn’t pinpoint why. She was right. He was feeling moody, angry, even. He grabbed Rose by the arms roughly, pulling her so her face was close to his.

  “You’re a spryte,” said Malcolm. “And I’m a champion. How do you know that one of these days I won’t decide to start toeing the company line?”

  “You could try it,” whispered Rose. “If you think you could take me. See what happens.”

  Malcolm pushed her down on the couch, climbing onto her and pinning her arms. Rose’s expression flickered with playfulness, but also aggression, and a slight edge of fear. She wrapped his arms in her shadow tendrils, though they were limited in effectiveness by the light.

  He tore off her halter top, ignoring the annoyed look Rose gave him as one of the straps ripped. Her large breasts bounced loose, well-formed and glorious. She leaned her face up to his, lacing her fingers through his hair and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

  Melt kills himself, and I fool around with the enemy. How is that fair?

  Malcolm’s anger surged, fueling his horniness in an odd mishmash of emotions. He pulled his shirt off and rushed to undo the zipper of his jeans. Rose bit her bottom lip and put a hand on his chest, playfully trying to hold him back as he pressed into her.

  He dispensed with her boots and leggings with the same aggression he’d used on her top. Rose glared at him, but said nothing. He kissed her and felt her dig her fingernails into his bare back in revenge.

  Malcolm was hard, and manhandled Rose into position to enter her. She was wet and he slid in easy, almost immediately building to a fast thrusting pace. It was angry sex, cathartic, a way of blowing off steam after a day that didn’t make sense.

  Rose gave responded to his need in kind, wrestling Malcolm for control with her shadow tendrils. It was though she was goading him into pushing it further. Malcolm maintained control, grabbing her arms, pressing her into the couch. His angry thrusts seemed to reflect their deferring allegiances outside of the bedroom.

  “Oh!” Rose cried. “Mmm!”

  “This is what you wanted, Rose,” he whispered into her ear. “This is what you get.”

  He groped one of her breasts roughly, slapping one of her shadow tendrils away as it tried to run up his arm. He kissed her again, their tongues intertwining. He grabbed her buttocks in his hands and pumped into her like a machine stuck in overdrive.

  Rose’s moans grew louder, until she was screaming out in the ecstasy of the moment. She ran a hand through his hair gently, shivered, and melted against him, her forehead leaning against his chest in submission. Malcolm pumped her a few more times, pulling out as he reached his limit and releasing all over her stomach and chest.

  Rose was breathing hard and reeling from her orgasm, but she still had the presence of mind to glare at him and the mess he’d made.

  “Sorry,” said Malcolm. “I’ll get you a towel.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “You could have… picked a better place than that for it, you know.”

  Malcolm considered for a moment. He thought about the lie that Golden Joab had told about Jade Portal being pregnant. Savior had revealed to him that most sprytes were infertile.

  Most sprytes. Better safe than sorry.

  He frowned as he pulled on his boxers and walked to the bathroom. If he wanted to play it safe, what he should really do was push Rose as far away from him as possible. It seemed as though so many of the complications in his life all stemmed from that one decision to bring her back to his apartment on that fateful night.

  “You’ve got a look on your face,” said Rose.

  Malcolm shook his head.

  “It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m just… thinking.”

  He passed Rose the towel, and she cleaned herself up.

  “You can think out loud, you know,” she said. “It’s this thing called talking.”

  Malcolm smiled, but felt a little sad on the inside.

  “How much can we really talk, anymore?” he asked. “When it comes to anything serious… it’s just going to lead us back to an argument.”

  “Maybe it’s an argument we’re supposed to have.”

  “Yeah, because we’re both just so open minded when it comes to the one another’s point of view,” said Malcolm, rolling his eyes.

  Rose looked like she had more to say about that, but she wisely let it drop. She was still naked, and pulled her knees up to her chest.

  “Come warm me up,” she said.

  “I have to go soon.”

  “Stay?”

  Malcolm sighed.

  “I wish I could,” he said. “I have to report in to Savior.”

  “You don’t think you could put that off until the morning?” Rose shifted, letting one of her breasts slide back into view. Malcolm walked over and sat down next to her, feeling extremely tempted to do as she suggested.

  His jeans vibrated on the floor. Malcolm reached over to them and took his phone out.

  “Don’t answer that,” said Rose.

  Malcolm frowned at her. It was Tapestry. He slid his thumb across the screen to answer.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Where are you?” Tapestry demanded.

  “I’m… at my place,” said Malcolm. “Why?”

  “There’s a protest,” she said, quickly. “Right outside Savior’s hotel. A bunch of instigators stirred up fake outrage on social media, and hundreds came out for it. Most from Halter City.”

  “Alright.” Malcolm frowned. “You sound really worried?”

  “I have a bad feeling about this, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “Get over to my place as soon as you can. Please… hurry.”

  She hung up. Malcolm set his phone on the couch and started pulling on his jeans.

  “Stay here,” said Rose. “Please.”

  Malcolm’s frowned deepened. He looked at her carefully.

  “You know something,” he said. “You’re trying to keep me here tonight for more than just fun.”

  Rose hesitated, and then nodded.

  “He’s going to kill you, Malcolm,” she said, softly.

  “Rain Dancer?” Malcolm shook his head. “He can try, if he wants. I don’t think he’ll have an easy time of it.”

  “Malcolm!” She stood up, grabbing his arm, naked and desperate. “I’m serious. He won’t hold back against you this time.”

  Malcolm licked his lips.

  “Is it really for my own safety that you’re trying to keep me here?” he asked. “Or to keep me from helping my friends?”

  “You’ll notice that I’m not helping my friends, either,” pointed out Rose. “I couldn’t care less about Rain Dancer, but Shield Maiden, and Fantasy. They aren’t bad people.”

  “Rose…” Malcolm sighed.

  “Just listen to me,” said Rose. “If you’re here with me, you’ll be safer. I can convince Shield Maiden to talk to him. Trust me, Rain Dancer will listen to her. We can work something out.”

  “I’m not afraid of him, Rose,” he said.

  She looked at him as though he were a complete idiot.

  “He only has one eye because of you,” she said. “He will kill you, if you’re on your own. I could even help hide you, Malcolm. Like you did for me. Once this is over, you’ll need that kind of protection.”

  A cold chill ran down the back of Malcolm’s neck.

  “Once what is over?” he asked.

  Rose didn’t say anything. Malcolm pulled his arm back from her. She didn’t stop him.

  “I’m going, Rose,” he said. “I’m not backing down.”

  Rose nodded slowly.

  “I won’t fight you,” she whispered. “Not this time. Please… stay safe.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Malcolm dressed quickly and headed out. He pushed his wind manipulation hard to get to Tapestry’s as quickly as he could, taking massive leaps that were as close to flying as he could get while st
ill occasionally touching down.

  Tapestry was at the door, in jeans and a leather jacket, the bulge of her gun visible under one arm. She was arguing with Melanie on the doorstep. Malcolm dropped down next to them, surprising them both.

  “Malcolm!” cried Melanie. “Tell her she’s being crazy. This could turn into a riot! There’s nothing she can do. She isn’t like Savior, neither of you are. You won’t be safe there. You’ll just make yourselves into targets. This is stupid and ridiculous and, and…”

  “Melanie,” said Malcolm. “This is part of our job. Savior is here in our city, helping us reorganize. We can’t leave him at the mercy of a mob.”

  Tapestry nodded, looking pleased that Malcolm shared her point of view.

  “We’ll be careful, Melanie,” she said. “This isn’t as dangerous as it might seem. Most of the protesters are peaceful, and the ones that aren’t are still wary of what champions can do.”

  She gave Melanie a quick kiss on the forehead and nodded to Malcolm. The two of them climbed into her black BMW and Tapestry pulled onto the street.

  “Morph is already there,” said Tapestry. “There isn’t much she can do to help, though. She’s flying overhead, watching the crowd.”

  “Alright,” said Malcolm. “Give me the full details.”

  “There was a shooting downtown,” said Tapestry. “Two people injured, one dead. All of the witnesses claim that they identified Savior as the gunman.”

  Malcolm scowled.

  “That makes no sense,” he said. “First off, Savior wouldn’t do something like that. But even if he was in the mood to be psychopathic… he can shoot energy blasts and tear people in half with his super strength.”

  “Exactly,” said Tapestry. “I gave it some thought. Remember the illusion spryte from the casino?”

  Malcolm nodded.

  “Of course,” he said. “And let me guess: there was no video of the incident.”

  “None,” said Tapestry. “It’s one of Rain Dancer’s plots to stir people up.”

  “It looks like it worked.”