Wind Runner: The Complete Collection

by Edmund Hughes

  He let his hands slide her breasts upward, tracing his fingers down the side of her chest, to her hips, and then butt. He pulled Rose down all the way, enjoying the surprised reaction on her face, as though she’d forgotten just how deep into her his shaft could reach.

  They both started moving, grinding and bumping together, playing a game of passion that paid rewards in salacious pleasure. Rose pressed her hands down on Malcolm’s chest, pushing with her arms to lift herself up on his rod. Her tendrils ran across his body, hot to the touch, caressing his inner thighs, and twining through his hair.

  She leaned further forward. Malcolm kissed each of her breasts and then buried his face in them, feeling like a teenager who’d just discovered his favorite part of a woman. Rose cradled his head, though the softness of the gesture was contradicted by Malcolm’s urgent upward thrusting.

  He squeezed her butt and pushed into her, faster and faster. Rose eventually began to follow his lead, as she usually did, matching his rhythm, letting out soft, excited moans of pleasure. Each time Malcolm accelerated his pace, she sped up her own gyrations in a loving, intimate sort of submission.

  “Oh,” she moaned. “Oh… Malcolm.”

  She tensed up, shivers running through her body as she let out a silent, pleasured gasp.

  “Rose.” He pulled her against him tightly, wrapping his arms around her as he pumped faster and faster. His heart pounded in his chest, and he felt a flutter of urgent, near overwhelming pleasure as he found his release.

  He kept holding her against him. She was still there, while so much of his life was now a thing of the past. He held her, and felt a little scared.

  CHAPTER 6

  “I can’t stay,” said Rose.

  Malcolm sighed. He loosened his arms and let them fall to the mattress, though despite her statement, Rose kept her head where it was on his chest.

  “Are you worried about your fellow monsters getting suspicious?” he asked.

  Rose ran her hand over his chest, letting it slide to the edge of the wound on his shoulder.

  “Not exactly,” she said. “Shield Maiden is just stressed out. After what happened to Rain Dancer, it’s understandable…”

  Malcolm couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across his face.

  “My bad,” he said. “Though really it was Danny who softened him up for me.”

  His smile faded. It was still hard for him to think about his brother. There was too much baggage there for him to open up in casual conversation.

  “She’s also concerned about our safety,” said Rose. “Fantasy and I. Along with the rest of the ungifted Awakened Children.”

  “How so?” asked Malcolm.

  “We’re all still living underground, in Underworld,” said Rose. “In some ways, we’re safer down there then we would be on the surface. But now, given how independently Multi has been operating, we aren’t sure if the alliance we have with him is actually something he’ll uphold.”

  Malcolm exhaled through his nostrils. He decided to table his questions about Multi in favor of asking about something a bit more personal to Rose.

  “Is your sister down there with you?” asked Malcolm. “Leah?”

  Rose shook her head.

  “She’s part of a small group of the Awakened Children, including Rion, who have gone to spread the message of peace between monsters and humans in another city,” said Rose. “Which I think is for the best. It isn’t safe here in Vanderbrook, anymore.”

  Malcolm nodded. There’d been a half dozen suicide bombings in the Vanderbrook area over the past two weeks. Occasionally, Multi would send his copies out to patrol the streets, for no other reason than to project his power and remind people how badly outnumbered the police were against him.

  And he’s just a single demon. He doesn’t need allies, with his power. Shield Maiden is right to be worried.

  “Be safe on your way back,” said Malcolm. “Seriously. I don’t trust you on that motorcycle.”

  Rose flicked his ear with her finger.

  “And I don’t trust you flying through the sky,” she said. “I’m just glad that you still have that thing on your wrist to keep you from getting too overwhelmed by the body load.”

  She eyed the metal stabilizer on wrist. Malcolm smiled.

  “A remnant of my old life,” he said. “One of the few upsides to the Champion Authority being in such disarray is that I don’t have to worry about them tracking me using it. Or, you know… triggering the bomb inside of it.”

  “For now,” said Rose.

  “For now,” he agreed.

  She smiled at him as she stood up. Malcolm watched her wiggling back into her leggings and pulling on her halter top. She waited for a couple of seconds when she finished, looking at him expectantly.

  “So…” she said. “Are you going to be around tomorrow night, or am I going to have to track you through the city again?”

  Malcolm shrugged.

  “I’m not living the kind of life right now where I think that far ahead,” he said.

  Rose folded her arms and glared at him.

  “You’d better not do anything stupid,” she said. “And yes, going after Multi on your own qualifies as stupid.”

  “No promises,” said Malcolm.

  Rose’s glare deepened, until it was so exaggerated that it was funny.

  “I’ll be careful,” he added. “And… hopefully see you soon.”

  “Of course,” said Rose.

  She leaned over him and kissed him once more on the lips before climbing up the ladder and out of Malcolm’s hideout. He put the lock back in place, sighed, and collapsed onto his bed.

  He woke up the next morning to the sound of his prepaid phone vibrating from a text. Malcolm groggily peered into the screen. It was Second Wind.

  SECOND WIND: Just woke up. I’ll be at the spot in 10.

  Malcolm sighed and started getting dressed. He’d been forced to diversify his wardrobe since creating his new identity. He pulled on khakis, along with a short sleeve dress shirt, a pair of reading glasses, and a baseball cap. It wouldn’t be enough to fool anyone who knew him and spent more than a couple of seconds looking at him, but that was why he limited the amount of time he spent in public.

  He waited at the bus stop, playing the role of another bored pedestrian as he traveled across town, toward his old apartment. “The spot” that Second Wind had mentioned was the old park across the street from it. It wasn’t exactly the most subtle of places to hold what amounted to a meeting with an informant, but they could both get to it easily, and it kept Second Wind from having to explain unusual trips around town to anyone paying attention to him.

  Malcolm spotted his copy sitting on a park bench near the small duck pond with a pensive look on his face. He walked over slowly, taking out his phone as though it was what held his attention as he sat down.

  “How’s your shoulder?” asked Second Wind.

  Malcolm shrugged. It wasn’t overly itchy, which was a good sign, and he was thankful for the attention Rose had given it, but it was still painful.

  “Feels like that time Mr. Tessmore’s dog bit us when we cut across his yard,” said Malcolm.

  “Jesus,” said Second Wind. “You could have just said that it was still hurting. No need to trudge up that memory.”

  Malcolm smiled.

  “The rest of that day was pretty good though, remember?”

  Second Wind nodded.

  “I do,” he said. “It was the summer, and we were at the beach for the morning. Me, Danny, and mom.”

  Neither of them said anything for a minute. Danny’s death, though it had been something he’d essentially gone through twice before, still weighed heavily on Malcolm. He looked down at his palm and considered the last gift his brother had given him, a superpower that he was now using to protect the city.

  “Any news on Multi?” asked Malcolm.

  Second Wind shook his head slowly.

  “No,” he said. “At least, noth
ing new. None of my contacts or Tapestry’s contacts have seen him in person recently, and we don’t know for sure where he’s going to hit next. People are scared. I don’t know if you sense that much or not, but it’s truth. The entire city is terrified of him. If he starts making demands…”

  “That’s why we need to find him, and stop him,” said Malcolm. “Not his copies. Him.”

  Malcolm massaged his temples, only realizing after a second or two the error in what he’d just said.

  “Right,” said Second Wind. “Multi’s infinite army of unthinking, evil copies.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” said Malcolm. “Look, the one thing that each of the copies can’t do is replicate. The only way to kill a snake is to cut off its head.”

  Malcolm bit his lip, realizing that the words didn’t sound much better. Second Wind frowned slightly and leaned back in the seat, his eyes staring out across the duck pond without focusing.

  “It’s hard for me not to think about, you know,” he said. “For the first few hours, even the first day or two after I was… created, I didn’t really consider it. It just felt like a hazy dream. I remembered making the copy, making myself, I guess. It felt like one of those science fiction movies where the protagonist wakes up and discovers that the world… isn’t what it seems.”

  “Hey…” Malcolm reached over and set a hand on his copy’s shoulder. “Don’t be sad. How about I buy you an ice cream, slugger? Vanilla? Chocolate?”

  “Fuck you.” Second Wind scowled, but there was a small hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m being serious. I inherited everything from you. Your thoughts, your feelings, memories, sense of humor. Everything… except a clear sense of purpose.”

  Whoa. This is affecting him more than I’d assumed.

  “I think this might be one of those things that gets worse the more you think about it,” said Malcolm. “So just… try not to think about it.”

  “It doesn’t make you feel existential to know that there is someone else out there in the world who could, technically, claim to be you?” asked Second Wind.

  ‘First of all, you’re not me.” Malcolm spoke the words without thinking. “I mean, damn it. You are me, but you aren’t… me. We’re different people now, really.”

  Malcolm frowned, feeling annoyed at how hard it suddenly was to articulate the essence of their existence.

  “You haven’t thought about it much, have you?” asked Second Wind.

  “No,” said Malcolm. There was no point in trying to lie. He knew Second Wind would see through it.

  “And that’s another part of this, for me,” said Second Wind. “I don’t even know… how much I don’t know.”

  “Okay, now you’re just being ridiculous,” said Malcolm. “Of course you don’t know what you don’t know.”

  “Just, shut up and let me explain!” snapped Second Wind. “I’m talking about memories. MY emotional reactions. My… soul, if I have one. How much of it is really true to what I was… what you were… before you used Multi’s power.”

  Malcolm hesitated, lacking the slightest idea how to respond.

  “I’ve taken on the role of tending to your life,” said Second Wind. “Do you know how that feels, when the news is full of reports of the ‘Gifted Vigilante’? Hell, even Tapestry speculates about you and your motives.”

  “This wasn’t how I’d planned this,” said Malcolm. “I didn’t expect to survive my encounter with Rain Dancer.”

  “But you did,” said Second Wind. “And now I’m doing the doppelgänger version of watering your plants and walking your dogs while you’re out of town.”

  “I don’t have any plants or dogs,” said Malcolm.

  The look Second Wind gave him told him that he’d just said the wrong thing, again.

  “I feel like… I at least deserve a chance,” said Second Wind. “To make my own choices. To make my own way in the world, instead of walking down the path you were on for no other reason than to keep it warm.”

  “That’s… fair,” said Malcolm. “That’s what I would want in your situation, too. Obviously. But... I need you here. At least for now. Vanderbrook needs you. Hell, even Tapestry…”

  Malcolm let his words trail off. Second Wind hadn’t spoken to him much about Tapestry, and he wasn’t sure that either of them were ready to broach the topic. He knew that Second Wind loved her just as he did. And the same was true of Rose.

  I thought creating a copy would simplify my life.

  “She’s doing well,” said Second Wind. “Melanie too. I’ve been… looking after both of them.”

  “Of course you have,” said Malcolm. He waited, knowing what Second Wind would ask next.

  “And Rose?”

  Malcolm shrugged.

  “She’s still working with Shield Maiden and Fantasy, but Multi appears to be mostly out of the picture,” said Malcolm. “She’s been looking out for me, more than the other way around.”

  Second Wind smiled. There was a pause in the conversation, and both of them shared responsibility for it. Malcolm decided to change the subject.

  “So,” said Malcolm. “How are the other champions in Vanderbrook doing? Wax, Anna… is Greenthumb still around, too?”

  The question seemed to push Second Wind away from his melancholic state. He crossed one leg over the other and turned to look at Malcolm. It felt weird, seeing the expression on his face, a perfect copy of Malcolm’s, but not knowing what he was about to say.

  “Greenthumb ended up taking Anna as his new partner,” said Second Wind. “Tapestry said there was some drama over it with his girlfriend, but there was no real alternative, given the weakened state of the Champion Authority.”

  “Oh, man, that’s not going to end well.” Malcolm gave his copy a knowing smile. “Those two always seemed to be flirting with disaster.”

  “And each other,” said Second Wind. “Anyway, Wax was recalled to the Champion Authority’s primary headquarters in Virginia. It’s fared better than most of the local bases, but they’re still scrambling to contain the chaos… and mostly failing at it.”

  “Yeah, the news hasn’t been so optimistic,” said Malcolm.

  “It’s worse than what’s being reported,” Second Wind said, quietly. “There’s a hundred million people in the country essentially fending for themselves, without police, military, or champion presence to protect them from the monsters. Or from other people, for that matter.”

  Malcolm nodded slowly.

  “All the more reason for us to hold down the fort here in Vanderbrook,” he replied.

  Second Wind made a small noise of agreement. Malcolm figured it was probably all the commitment he was going to get out of him, for now. He set a hand on Second Wind’s shoulder, said his goodbye, and stood to leave.

  “One more thing,” said Second Wind.

  Malcolm looked over his shoulder at him.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Tapestry is hunting the Gifted Vigilante.” Second Wind gave a smile that was equal parts amused and predatory. “You should be very careful about moving around the city in your costume.”

  Tapestry is hunting me? I’m not so sure how I feel about that.

  “I’ll be careful,” he said.

  CHAPTER 7

  Malcolm felt restless as he left the park, his mind still reeling as he considered all of what Second Wind had said. There was something unnerving about the perspective his copy had shared, and the depth of Second Wind’s existential anxiety. Malcolm felt as though just by meeting up with him, he’d accepted a share of that burden.

  It had been a little more than two weeks since Second Wind had first been “born”, so to speak. Two weeks, and they’d already diverged far enough to think and feel like different people. Malcolm wondered how he hadn’t seen this coming.

  I expected to die facing Rain Dancer. And I was ready for it.

  He wondered if that acceptance, more than anything, had shifted him away from who he’d been, and the life that Se
cond Wind was now occupying. Heading into battle against Rain Dancer alone had been stupid, but also probably the bravest and most selfless thing he’d ever done.

  He winced, not wanting to give himself more credit than he deserved. Second Wind had, in essence, been a backup plan. It was a fact that Malcolm knew must haunt his copy, and he’d never stopped to consider what the consequences of what that weight would do to a person’s mind.

  But then again, Second Wind was still a version of him. There was no doubt in Malcolm’s mind that he could be trusted to faithfully continue on as Wind Runner. He rubbed his chin as he walked, suddenly wondering if that was really the case. No doubt whatsoever? Was that the truth of it?

  He was walking aimlessly, and had to shift gears in order to remember what he needed to spend the afternoon doing. The previous night’s incident had left a hole not just in his shoulder, but also in his costume. He needed to replace his jacket, the black shirt he usually wore underneath it, and just in case, he could also use another pair of black pants to go along with them.

  Malcolm found a clothing store, one that he didn’t usually frequent. He made his way inside, feeling a bit uncomfortable with how empty the store was. A single customer perused the aisles, while a bored clerk sat behind the checkout counter, chewing gum and staring at her phone.

  He tried to act inconspicuous as he made his way to the men’s section. There, he began slowly flipping through a row of jackets, looking for one that would suit his purposes. It was the summer, and that narrowed the selection considerably.

  Eventually, he settled on a black zip down sweatshirt with mock turtle neck collar. He picked out a black pair of jeans to go with them, holding the two up to his body and frowning as he considered how ominous the clothes looked.

  No wonder the media is portraying me as a potential villain. I dress the part.

  He slipped into one of the changing stalls and set about trying everything on. Malcolm had only been inside for long enough to zip up the sweatshirt and slip his mask on, to make sure there were no gaps, when the curtain swung open. The clerk had a suspicious look on her face, but it immediately shifted to amazement as she recognized him.