Former Champion (Vanderbrook Champions Book 5)

by Edmund Hughes

  “Wind Runner!” called Bennett. “Where are you going in such a hurry? We haven’t had our chat yet today.”

  Malcolm slowed to a stop, knowing that it would only waste energy to run. He turned around and saw Bennett walking toward him slowly, carrying the pistol he’d stolen from him earlier in the week. He was flanked by his two thugs, and they all looked inordinately pleased to see him.

  “Bennett,” said Malcolm. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for you today.”

  He felt a cold, confident certainty taking hold in his chest. He’d let himself get distracted for too long. It wasn’t about his survival or his safety. His life had a focus, and hearing the rumor about Rose had revitalized his will. Nothing would stop him from finding her.

  “You’d talk to me like that?” sneered Bennett. “I thought we were friends! Wind Runner, don’t tell me you’ve lost your manners along with your powers.”

  He strode closer, an arrogant bully drunk on his own meager influence. Malcolm didn’t flinch back from him. He held Bennett’s gaze steadily.

  “What do you have on you?” asked Bennett. “If you’re in a rush, just give me what you have and we’ll call it square. Sound good?”

  “Sound’s great.” Malcolm reached a hand into his pocket, digging into it with exaggerated motions. “Just… one thing though.”

  He gestured for Bennett to come closer, and had to keep himself from grinning as the gang leader stepped within Malcolm’s range. He no longer had his wind manipulation, but he was still fast, and his first kick swept Bennet’s legs out from under him before he had time to react.

  The two thugs let out shouts of surprise. Malcolm was already moving, throwing himself into the air and onto Bennett before he could get back to up on a knee. He got one of his hands over the gun, angling it away from him, and then head-butted Bennett in the face with all the energy he had.

  Bennett screamed, and then let out a wet cough, spraying blood onto Malcolm’s face and shirt. He managed to strip the gun free from Bennett’s hand. The safety was off, and he whirled to fire at the nearest thug. Nothing happened when he pulled the trigger.

  No bullets. Bennett already used up the ones in it in the time since he got it. I should have guessed.

  One of the thugs kicked Malcolm hard in the chest, knocking him back. The other carried a baseball bat and was pulling it back to swing a killing blow into Malcolm’s skull when he let out a tiny gasp.

  Malcolm glanced down at Bennett, or rather, at the shield bubble that now encased him. His entire body was trapped in a multicolored, lightly shimmering egg of confinement. When Malcolm looked back toward the other thugs, similar bubble shields had already encapsulated them. He still held the gun in his hand, and kept his finger on the trigger as he slowly stood up.

  Shield Maiden, one of the few benign sprytes remaining in the area, stood a dozen paces behind him. She was attractive in an alien way, her skin a mixture of swirling pink, purple, and blue, and her hair the color of bubblegum. She met Malcolm’s gaze and crossed her arms.

  “You still have a habit of getting yourself into trouble, I see,” she said.

  Malcolm smiled, though his mind raced ahead, trying to work out why she was there and what she wanted.

  She must have heard the rumor about Rose. That’s the only reason she’d show herself now.

  “What can I say?” said Malcolm. “Trouble has a way of finding me. Speaking of which… Something tells me that you aren’t just passing through town.”

  Shield Maiden slowly shook her head.

  “I take it you’ve also heard,” she said. “Rose has returned to the area. I would like to take the opportunity to try to bring her back to us.”

  “Us, as in… you and Fantasy?” asked Malcolm. “Or have you recruited more monsters to your little clique since I’ve last seen you?”

  For a moment, it seemed as though she wouldn’t answer the question.

  “No,” she said, finally. “We haven’t. It’s been a little too dangerous for us to operate openly in recent times.”

  “That’s the understatement of the century.” Malcolm wiped a hand across his cheek, frowning at the blood that came off. Bennett’s blood - not his.

  “Come with me,” said Shield Maiden. “You look as though you could use a day to… clean yourself up.”

  “We should start immediately if Rose is close by,” said Malcolm.

  Shield Maiden shook her head.

  “You need to compose yourself, first,” said Shield Maiden. “The role you’ll be playing isn’t one you can rush into.”

  “The role I’ll be playing?”

  Shield Maiden nodded. “It’s up to you to remind Rose of what she has to come back to. She has to make the choice to return to her old life.”

  Her old life. I wonder if she even remembers it…

  CHAPTER 8

  Malcolm followed Shield Maiden on foot for a time. She spoke little, but it wasn’t because of him, as far as he could tell. She had a quiet way about her, and managed to be companionable without saying anything.

  They stopped outside a set of stairs leading down into an old cellar in a part of Vanderbrook that had been abandoned long before the collapse. Shield Maiden smiled at him and gestured with her hand.

  “I’ll have to put you in a bubble, beyond this point,” she said.

  “Still don’t trust me?” asked Malcolm.

  She shook her head. “This is our safe place. Trust has nothing to do with it. I couldn’t allow anyone to see the exact route down to Underworld unless we all agreed upon it.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He took a step away from her, and an instant later, a multicolored translucent shell burst into existence around him. It was an odd sensation, reminiscent of the buoyant upward tug of a hammock, mixed with a kaleidoscope of colors from the sun’s light interacting with the clouded surface.

  Malcolm could still see enough to tell when they’d moved underground, but beyond that, he was in the dark. And he didn’t mind. Shield Maiden was taking a risk by taking him into her confidence. He was a former champion, a former enemy, someone who she’d fought against on more than one occasion.

  Rose must be a true friend, for her to take such a risk.

  Time went by, close to an hour. Malcolm was surprised when he saw a literal light at the end of the tunnel. Shield Maiden brought him through one last door, and then the two of them stopped moving.

  “Are your feet underneath you?” asked Shield Maiden.

  “Yeah.”

  She popped the bubble, and Malcolm collapsed into an uncoordinated heap, despite being ready for it. Shield Maiden smiled at him.

  He slowly stood up and followed her down one of the long, cement hallways that spider-webbed out from Underworld’s core. Malcolm was shocked to see that there was still electricity, evidenced by the LED lights lining the ceiling and air circulation.

  “How do you still have the power turned on down here?” he asked.

  He regretted the question as soon as it had left his mouth. Underworld had never been drawing electricity from the grid. Back when Rain Dancer had been alive, he’d used his electrical powers to charge batteries and keep the system running smoothly.

  Malcolm had killed Rain Dancer. Rain Dancer had been Shield Maiden’s lover. A pit of guilt formed in his stomach as the silence dragged on for several seconds. She stopped walking and turned around, but her face was neutral, rather than angry.

  “We got our hands on some solar cells,” said Shield Maiden. “Quite a few. It was no trouble to refit our electrical system to run off them. We still have to be careful about how much we use, but for the most part, we make do.”

  No mention of Rain Dancer. Probably better if I don’t bring him up unless she does.

  They continued walking and spilled out into Underworld’s main chamber. Malcolm was surprised to find it almost empty. The large dining table that had been the centerpiece of the room looked to be doing little more than collecting dust. H
e wanted to be polite, so he tried to keep the question to himself. Shield Maiden read the expression on his face anyway.

  “There weren’t many Awakened Children here when the collapse happened,” said Shield Maiden. “Those that were here left slowly, often in search of their families, or other members who’d gone missing.”

  “And… Leah?” Malcolm had to know. Leah had been Rose’s sister.

  “We… haven’t heard from her,” said Shield Maiden. She didn’t elaborate beyond that. Malcolm’s heart sank at the idea that he might have even more bad news to deliver to Rose once they found her.

  Footsteps came from another hallway across the chamber. Malcolm glanced over to see another spryte that he recognized. Fantasy, dressed in a loose pink gown, her blonde hair flowing almost down to her waist, looked very surprised to see him.

  “Wind Runner!” she shouted. “Shield, you didn’t tell me we were going to be having guests!”

  Fantasy’s gown showed off her assets quite spectacularly, the curves of her generous breasts, along with her trim waist and firm butt. Despite that, Malcolm glared at her. The last time he’d seen her, she’d used her power to disguise herself as Rose. It had been a ploy for her to discover the true identity of the Gifted Vigilante. It seemed so pointless now, but Malcolm still felt anger and frustration burning inside of him over it.

  “Is that really you, Fantasy?” he asked, spitefully. “Or just another mask?”

  “Oh please,” said Fantasy. “That doesn’t even make sense. Why would I disguise myself as myself?”

  Malcolm shrugged. He was angry and didn’t need things like “sense” and “logic”. Shield Maiden shot him a disapproving frown.

  “Malcolm, if you’re upset over what Fantasy did when Rose disappeared, you should know that it was my idea,” said Shield Maiden. “We knew the two of you were close, and we knew that you had something to do with her disappearance. And we didn’t know if you’d be willing to tell us if we just showed up and asked.”

  Malcolm sighed.

  “I still wish you’d approached it differently,” he said. “It hurts to have a trick like that played on you with the face of someone you love.”

  Someone I love. I do love her. And I never got a chance to tell her.

  “What’s done is done,” said Shield Maiden. “We will set out to find Rose tomorrow. That’s as much as I can do to make amends. Until then… you should make yourself comfortable.”

  “Are you going somewhere?” asked Malcolm.

  Shield Maiden nodded.

  “I need to check in with my contacts on the surface to get a better idea of where to start looking for Rose,” she said. “Take the day to rest, eat, and clean yourself up. Fantasy will help you.”

  Malcolm was about to raise an objection, but Shield Maiden had already turned to head down another tunnel. The sound of her footsteps echoed back into the large, central room. It underscored just how empty their base had become. Malcolm wondered how the two women kept from feeling lonely living there, and began to better understand their reason behind wanting Rose back so badly.

  He felt a little awkward as he looked over at Fantasy, who was watching him with her arms crossed, with a tiny, mischievous smile on her face.

  “Relax,” she said. “I’m not going to do anything weird. Have a seat at the table. I’ll get you some food. Are leftovers okay? I don’t really feel like cooking.”

  “Anything is okay,” said Malcolm. He felt himself relaxing a bit, or perhaps just warming to the idea of having food to eat that he didn’t have to forage.

  Fantasy brought him a plate with cooked venison, green peas, and instant mashed potatoes. Malcolm let out an audible sigh when he saw it, and started chuckling uncontrollably when the smell met with his nostrils.

  “How…” He shook his head in disbelief. “This… is a better meal than I’ve eaten in half a year.”

  “The peas are canned, and the potatoes come from a bag,” said Fantasy. “The venison is all Shield Maiden. She’s really good at hunting with her power. I’ve tried it with my illusions, but it’s harder to trick an animal than a human, if you can believe it.”

  “I can,” said Malcolm.

  CHAPTER 9

  Malcolm had to relearn proper table manners as he ate. He devoured everything, and Fantasy willingly brought him seconds. His stomach was full almost to the point of bursting when he finished clearing his plate a second time. She brought him a glass of wine, which seemed equally decadent to his now simplified palette.

  Once the meal was over, Fantasy cleared his plate and disappeared into another room. When she returned, she carried fresh clothes and a towel. She gestured for him to stand and follow.

  “Come on,” she said. “You need a bath. I don’t think you realize just how smelly you are.”

  “Fair enough,” said Malcolm.

  She led him down a hallway, and into Underworld’s extravagant bath room. A massive hot tub, already steaming with water, was sunken into the center of the cement floor. Malcolm wondered how it had come about, but was more interested in climbing in than having his questions answered.

  He’d already taken his shirt off when he realized that Fantasy was still in the room, watching him carefully. He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Are you going to watch me bathe?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, simply. “Don’t think that just because you’re down here, you have our complete trust. You could do a lot of damage with your powers, Wind Runner.”

  So she doesn’t know that I’m powerless. Maybe it’s better not to tell her?

  He wondered if he was violating the tenuous trust that existed between him and the sprytes by not telling her. He decided that the story would have to be told eventually, but it could probably wait until after he’d gotten cleaned up and when Shield Maiden had returned.

  “Well?” asked Fantasy. “Don’t tell me you’re too shy to strip in front of a pretty lady?”

  Malcolm chuckled.

  “Shy isn’t exactly the word I’d use,” he said. Truth be told, he found that as he pulled his pants and boxers off, a jolt of excitement went through him. He could feel Fantasy’s eyes on him. Despite the dirt and grime, his body had grown lean and muscular over the past few months.

  He slowly lowered himself into the water, breathing a sigh of pleasure as the heat bled into him. Fantasy brought over soap and a wash cloth, and then surprisingly, sat down next to him, her bare feet and lower legs dipping into the bath.

  “How complicated things have become,” said Fantasy, her voice wistful.

  Malcolm met her gaze, wondering what she meant by that. He was about to ask when she continued.

  “It’s been hard for us down here,” she said. “Not in the same way as you’ve struggled on the surface, I’m sure. But difficult. It’s hard to know what’s happening in the world.”

  “It’s as you said,” replied Malcolm. “It’s even harder to be a part of it. The struggle is real. People die every day in Vanderbrook for reasons that are so petty and pointless that you just become numb to it, after a while.”

  Fantasy picked up a bar of soap. She ran it across Malcolm’s shoulders, not scrubbing, but washing him with an absentminded casualness.

  “You aren’t numb to it, though, are you?” she asked.

  Malcolm exhaled slowly.

  “I am, and I’m not,” he said. “It depends on the situation. Emotionally… I’m less than I was, back when the world made sense.”

  Fantasy’s hands kept roaming. Malcolm was tempted to stop her, but the water felt amazing, and he found himself enjoying her company more than he wanted to.

  “We were really close,” she said. “Closer than you might know, Wind Runner. Before Rain Dancer died, and before Zeus began his reign of terror… We were on a path toward a better world.”

  “Better?” asked Malcolm. “With Rain Dancer’s methods? You might have been on a path, but I’m not sure it would have led you where you wanted.”

&n
bsp; “Maybe not,” said Fantasy. “I don’t blame you for killing him, just so you know. That was a blunder of his own doing. But… How do I explain… Here, maybe it’s easier for me to just show you.”

  She closed her eyes. Malcolm saw, more than felt, a shift taking place in the room. He could still feel the water of the tub, but in front of him now was a model of the town of Vanderbrook, not as it was now, but as it once had been.

  Except, it wasn’t the Vanderbrook he remembered. Fantasy expanded the illusion, zooming in her focus until Malcolm could see the faces of people walking through the streets. He saw normal humans, but also sprytes and demons.

  A human in a hooded sweatshirt passed by a blue skinned demon in a business suit without batting an eyelash. A spryte with bands of gold running up her arms like tattoos played with a group of children, tossing a ball into the air and holding it aloft with her power as the children jumped and reached for it.

  The scene progressed further into a park on the north side of town. He remembered playing in it when he was a kid. He saw Fantasy in the illusion, younger than she was, but still a spryte. She was standing across from a teenage boy around the same age as her illusionary self, the two of them staring lovingly into each other’s eyes.

  “I don’t remember his name,” said Fantasy. “I just remember that I loved him. Before I became a spryte, and after. I don’t know what happened to him…”

  “I’m sorry,” said Malcolm.

  “Don’t apologize,” said Fantasy. “Help me. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could still bring this world about?”

  “It would,” Malcolm admitted. “But it’s not something that could happen overnight.”

  Or possibly ever. I could see humans and sprytes living in harmony… but demons?

  He thought of his brother Danny, and the struggle that had consumed him as a demon. Danny had tried to rise above what he’d been, to live peacefully, without hurting people. Malcolm felt old wounds ripping open as he considered what could have been if Danny hadn’t died in the fight against Rain Dancer.