Wind Runner: The Complete Collection

by Edmund Hughes

  “You’re not the hiding type,” called Second Wind. “I know you’re up to something.”

  “Why don’t you stick your head into the trees and find out what?” shouted Malcolm.

  He worded the comment as carefully as he could, knowing that Second Wind’s logic would flow similarly to his own. Second Wind would interpret his taunt as reverse psychology, a way for Malcolm to buy himself some time off his opponent’s fear of walking into a trap. And that was exactly what Malcolm wanted him to think.

  Second Wind didn’t waste any time in pursuing him, flying through the trees at full speed with his wind manipulation. Malcolm knew exactly how that would affect his momentum, and how hard it would be for his copy to dodge or turn on a dime at a moment’s notice. He waited until Second Wind’s silhouette became visible, and then launched an energy blast the size of a yoga ball directly at his chest.

  The attack hit Second Wind exactly as Malcolm had intended it to, instantly vaporizing one of his arms and a significant portion of his torso. Second Wind dropped to the ground in a crumpled heap, his injuries beyond what any regular human could endure.

  Unfortunately, Second Wind was not a regular human. Malcolm pressed forward on the attack, knowing that it was possible for his copy to use Tapestry’s regeneration power to recover over time. He didn’t expect it to happen so quickly.

  Second Wind was on his feet by the time Malcolm was in range to finish him off. Malcolm could see muscles and tendons stitching across the space of his massive wound, healing so fast that it was like watching a time lapse video of months of recovery.

  “Nice try,” said Second Wind. He took advantage of Malcolm’s surprise, lashing out with his energy sword and slicing a painful gash into his hip. Malcolm felt his heart sinking as he realized how hopeless of a fight he’d gotten himself into.

  He doesn’t have to focus like I do to use his powers. I can’t match him.

  “It’s past the point of me letting you give up,” said Second Wind. “Sorry, but one of us has to die, and it’s going to be you.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Malcolm fought off a growing sense of dread as he considered his options. He couldn’t kill Second Wind outright, at least not with anything less than an attack that destroyed his entire body. That might be possible with an energy blast, but it would require time for him to build it up, and even then, he’d still have to get lucky enough to hit Second Wind with it full on a second time.

  I need to keep him distracted, and try to surprise him somehow.

  “This is a pointless fight,” said Malcolm. “Neither of us can kill the other.”

  Second Wind smiled and shook his head.

  “We both know how Savior’s powers work,” said Second Wind. “If you drop your guard, I most definitely can kill you.”

  He lunged forward, slashing wildly with his energy sword. Malcolm focused his invulnerability power, but let it drop after the first few strikes to push himself out of range of Second Wind’s hands with his wind manipulation. He paid for it with another cut, this time across his back, like a clean lash from a whip.

  “See?” said Second Wind, triumphantly.

  “That doesn’t make it any less pointless,” said Malcolm.

  “On the contrary,” said Second Wind. “I think this is the only fight between any two beings on this planet worth having. This will decide everything.”

  “This will decide nothing,” said Malcolm. “This is all about you, your ego, and the blood on your hands. Killing me won’t change the mistakes you’ve made.”

  Second Wind glared at him.

  “And what about your mistakes?” he asked.

  What about you? That’s a mistake I’m currently trying to resolve.

  The two of them clashed again in a flurry of attacks and feints. Malcolm didn’t dare move in close enough to expose himself to Second Wind’s green tentacles, fearing that if he got grabbed, the fight would be over as soon as Second Wind laid a bare hand on him.

  Instead, he dodged Second Wind’s sword as best as he could, launching energy blast after energy blast and hoping for a lucky shot. The blood loss was beginning to affect him, and his injuries slowed his movements.

  They rose into the air, falling into a pattern of circling around each other, occasionally charging together for quick exchanges of furious attacks. Even though their abilities were different, they fought on the same rhythm, drawing from the same instincts, waiting for each other to make the mistake that would determine the fight.

  Malcolm was the one who made it. He attempted a super strength enhanced kick, keeping his eyes on Second Wind’s tentacle arms and waiting until they were relaxed. He landed the kick, but forgot about the range of Second Wind’s sword, and didn’t react in time to trigger his invulnerability.

  The sword went through his stomach, slightly off center. It was the type of injury that stopped time, stretching his pain and despair out into an eternity of torment. Second Wind’s eyes flashed with triumph, and then, curiously, a deep sadness.

  Malcolm gasped for air, reaching one hand down to where the energy sword had entered his torso, and one hand back to where it had exited. He felt like an insect, speared through by a needle onto a card bound for a collection. He felt pain, so much pain. It hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced.

  “I’m sorry,” said Second Wind. “It shouldn’t have come to this.”

  Second Wind pulled the sword loose. Malcolm fell from the sky the instant he did, as though the energy sword had been the only thing holding him aloft. He had just enough sense of mind to cushion his own fall, though he knew it made no difference. The blood loss would kill him in minutes, and he couldn’t summon the concentration to use Savior’s invulnerability power.

  He landed on the grass a few feet away from the magma pool. It had sunken down a dozen feet through the dirt, like a sinkhole with a volcanic surprise at the bottom. Malcolm groaned. The pain was too much. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to die. He just wanted it to be over.

  “I’ll make it quick,” said Second Wind. “I’m sorry that you had to suffer through this.”

  Malcolm forced his neck to lift his head up. His vision was spinning, and his eyes wouldn’t focus properly.

  “You…” he managed to say. “Why…?”

  It wasn’t a question that applied solely to that moment. There was so much about all that Second Wind had done that didn’t make sense to him. How had his copy gone from sharing his memories and experience, from being a champion, to being an agent of murder and destruction?

  And then why had he come back from that to build the peaceful little town he seemed so proud of? It scared Malcolm to consider the possibility that Second Wind, like so many demons and sprytes before him, had just lost control. Made mistakes that had wiped cities off the map, along with millions of innocent people.

  Maybe I’m supposed to die here, rather than live on as a demon. Maybe I would have lost control, just like he did.

  “Goodbye,” said Second Wind. “You are right, you know. In what you’re thinking. I lost sight of myself, and caused so much more harm than good.”

  Malcolm wondered for a moment if Second Wind had pulled himself back from the brink. Could he close his eyes, and die a peaceful death, hoping that his copy would find the light and bring peace to the world?

  Second Wind’s eyes met his, and it seemed as though he was considering the same possibility. The energy sword in his hand, hovering inches from Malcolm’s neck, was answer enough. He would always harbor that strange, inexplicable evil inside of him.

  Malcolm stared into Second Wind’s eyes and suddenly remembered the last of Savior’s powers. The one he’d very nearly forgotten about. With all the strength he had left in his dying body, he focused on triggering Savior’s offensive illusion ability.

  He’d only seen Savior use it once before, but that single demonstration had been enough. The ability pulled forth a person’s worst fears and made them into reality, trapping them in a w
aking nightmare for a short amount of time.

  Malcolm gritted his teeth. It was hard to keep focus on what he was supposed to be doing. The pain was overwhelming. The only leeway he was given came from Second Wind’s hesitation in killing him, those precious seconds of eye contact they held.

  And then, he did it. The illusions triggered. Second Wind’s pupils dilated, and his face suddenly shook with horror. The energy sword disappeared from his hand, and he fell back into a sitting position.

  “You!” he cried. “No! What did you just do!”

  Second Wind stood up and spun around in a circle. Malcolm clutched at his stomach, trying to focus on Savior’s invulnerability to buy himself a few more minutes of life. Second Wind was looking around frantically, seeing and experiencing whatever it was he feared most.

  “It’s me!” cried Second Wind. “It’s Malcolm! Why… It shouldn’t matter! Tapestry! Rose!”

  Second Wind let out a body shaking sob. Malcolm didn’t want to guess at what he was seeing.

  “Kill him…” Second Wind’s voice came out in a sob. “Not me. I’m just as much him as he is…”

  Malcolm wondered what would have happened if he’d let Tapestry and Rose stay for his confrontation with Second Wind instead of sending them off. Would he be on the ground, bleeding to death, if he’d managed to set his own fears aside and accept their help?

  So be it. If I had to sacrifice my life to keep them safe, it was the right choice to make.

  “Please…” muttered Second Wind. “I didn’t mean to. Don’t look at me like that…”

  Malcolm stumbled to a crouch, knowing that the illusion would eventually start to fade. He had to let go of his bleeding stomach to make a grab at Second Wind. Even distracted, his copy was still stronger than he was in his injured state.

  Second Wind snarled and got a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder, reacting on instinct in lieu of accurate visual information. Malcolm felt something leave him in a sudden rush. For a moment, he thought that it was the rest of his blood, splashing out of him. Then, he realized that he couldn’t feel any of his powers anymore.

  It almost made him laugh. They would do nothing for him in death, and had only served to make his path complicated in life. It was fitting that the last few moments of his existence would be as a regular human. Ordinary and simple.

  Malcolm twisted, keeping hold of Second Wind, and used the last of his energy to tip his copy into the sinkhole. Second Wind tumbled, and shockingly, didn’t react in time. He reached a hand back toward Malcolm, though it was clear from the desperate hope in his eyes that he saw something or someone else, an image created by the illusion.

  “Help me!” cried Second Wind. He landed on his back in the magma, and flames instantly burst into life across his body. “Help… me…!”

  His hand stayed raised in the air. For a couple of seconds, Malcolm watched as his regenerative ability desperately tried to keep his body intact. Then, he vanished into pool of molten rock and metal, a small explosive burp of moisture escaping in his wake.

  This is only fair. He was my mistake. Maybe I was supposed to die, to take responsibility.

  Malcolm collapsed onto the grass, making as much of an attempt as he could to hold his wounds. His body still hurt, but he felt good. He’d done it, even if it had taken all that he had to give.

  For the first time in a long time, he felt like a hero. Malcolm smiled, tasting blood in his mouth. He was proud of himself.

  EPILOGUE

  Rose pushed by another thick barrier of branches and finally stumbled out into the clearing she’d been expecting for days. The polite gas station attendant who’d given her directions had told her that the village was a half week’s hike from the edge of a dead-end logging road. It had been four days since she’d abandoned her truck and set out on foot, and she’d been on the verge of losing hope.

  The village was similar to the rumors she’d heard in passing. Olympus was a grand name for a humble collection of log cabins and storage lean-tos. She wasn’t sure what she’d anticipated from the people who lived in the far-flung outpost, but hospitality was not it. Almost as soon as one of them spotted her, a tiny little spryte girl whose wide eyes made Rose’s heart flutter, the rest of them hurried over and began offering food, water, and a place to stay for the night.

  “Really, that’s okay,” said Rose. “I brought camping supplies with me. I came looking for a friend, not to crash your peaceful existence.”

  The man who’d been doing most of the talking frowned at her. His hand rested on the little girl’s head, slowly stroking her hair.

  “A friend, you say?” asked the man. “Someone native to the village? We don’t get many visitors here.”

  Rose took a moment to think about her phrasing. This was the last known location of Second Wind, or as he was known to most of the world, Zeus. It had been almost a year since the last reported sighting of him, a year that had given humanity a chance to catch its breath and start to rebuild.

  “He would have been in the area close to a year ago,” said Rose.

  She wanted to mention that he might also have arrived looking for, or in the company of Zeus, but she held her tongue. Until she knew who Second Wind was to them, it was better to take a more subtle approach.

  Even the little she’d said seemed to be enough to lock up the lips of the villagers. They glanced around at each other, communicating with their eyes and expressions in the way that only a tight knit community could.

  “We did have a visitor around that time,” said the man. “Who were you to him, exactly?”

  Rose’s stomach twisted at the man’s phrasing. She opened her mouth to explain, but the words caught in her throat. It had been a year, but the memory of the last time she’d seen Malcolm still made her heart burn. He’d been so resolved in what he had to do, even knowing what it would probably mean for his own fate.

  “She seems nice,” said the girl. “Can I show her where he is?”

  The villagers looked at each other again, another resolution settled through wordless eye contact. Finally, the man who’d been doing the speaking gave a small nod with a matching smile.

  The little girl took Rose’s hand, pulling her forward through the village. The buildings were small and rustic, but carefully constructed. She wanted to ask about the history of the place, but that could wait until after she’d seen and confirmed what her heart already suspected.

  They passed through a small wall of trees with a thin trail leading through it. The girl glanced over her shoulder at Rose every couple of seconds, as though she was worried that she might disappear, regardless of whether Rose held her hand or not. It made Rose smile to see a young spryte so innocent and carefree.

  They entered another clearing. Rose had been expecting a graveyard, but ahead of her was a large garden filled with a variety of vegetables suited for the hard conditions of the Canadian soil.

  And there he was. Rose stared, blinking several times, not enough times to hold back the tears.

  “…Malcolm.”

  He looked up at her and performed a double take so perfect that it was almost comical.

  “Rose?” His hands were covered in dirt, even under the fingernails. He looked healthy and happy, though seeing him alive in any state would have already been enough to dumbfound her. He wasn’t a demon anymore, either, which made Rose wonder about how his fight with Second Wind had gone. Well enough for him to be standing there, intact and breathing, apparently. Another question to stack on top of all the others, she decided.

  Malcolm was careful as he made his way through the neatly maintained garden, but only to its edge. He practically threw himself the last few feet toward her, pulling her into a tight hug.

  “I…” Rose shook her head. “I can’t believe it. You’ve been here, this entire time?”

  “Yeah,” said Malcolm. The silence he left after his answer said more than the word.

  “And Second Wind?”

  Malcolm smiled sadly and sho
ok his head.

  “He’s dead,” he said. “We fought. It was one of those ‘two Malcolms enter, one Malcolm leaves’ type situations.”

  Rose giggled and wiped away more tears.

  “Well, you’re clearly still you,” she said. “Lame sense of humor and all.”

  “Thanks for noticing,” he said.

  There were so many questions that Rose wanted to ask, and in turn, so many that she knew he would ask her. She skipped over all of them to the last one, the only one that seemed to matter.

  “Will you come back?” she asked. “With me? When I leave?”

  He didn’t answer her for a long time.

  “This is my exile,” Malcolm finally said. “I did what I could for the world by stopping Second Wind, but the damage he did will never be undone. All the people he killed… It was because I was arrogant enough to think that I could use my powers however I wanted.”

  Rose nodded.

  “I don’t disagree with that,” she said. “Especially the arrogant part. But things have changed over the past year, so much.”

  “For both of us,” said Malcolm. The girl was standing next to him, and he reached down and rubbed her head affectionately.

  “I don’t think you really understand,” said Rose. “Things are peaceful now. The Champion Authority has recovered. They have a ruling council of several champions, including Wax, Anna, and Greenthumb.”

  “No Tapestry?”

  Rose smiled and pretended she hadn’t heard his question.

  “They also have a sister organization now called the Monster Authority,” she said. “Led by Shield Maiden and Fantasy. They work together with the champions to find better outcomes for demons and sprytes that are living peaceful lives.”

  “And Tapestry?” Malcolm asked, stuck on the point.

  “You ask about her, but not me?” said Rose, in a teasing voice. “My poor feelings are hurt.”