Rain Dancer (Vanderbrook Champions Book 2)

by Edmund Hughes

  “I consider it to be the lesser of two evils,” said Malcolm. “We kill sprytes and demons. It’s… not as though I see what we’re doing here as something clean.”

  “Some of them we capture,” said the bald Multi. “Some of them we kill. Some of them we ignore entirely, either because they aren’t threats, or because their free existence serves a purpose for us.”

  Wax stared into Malcolm’s eyes. Malcolm stared back, wearing his poker mask more seriously than he ever had before in his life. Multi cleared his throat.

  “Anyway…” He took a drag on his cigarette. “Did they happen to run any tests on you while you were their prisoner?”

  Malcolm frowned, considering the question. He shook his head.

  “No,” he said. “At least, not any that I was aware of.”

  “They didn’t play doctor with you at all?” asked Wax. “No blood samples, or mouth swabs, or anything?”

  “No,” said Malcolm. “Why?”

  Wax shrugged. He took another long drag off his cigarette and gestured for Malcolm to follow him back toward HQ.

  There’s something more here. I can feel it.

  Wax stomped out his cigarette by the door, and the two of them headed back inside. The bald Multi took his leave, and Malcolm headed into the cafeteria, considering what he’d said to that first question.

  He did consider the Champion Authority to be the lesser evil, compared to the Awakened Children. What he’d seen Rain Dancer do to Teddy was part of it, but there was more than just that. It was the general vibe, the ethos of their organization that made him deeply uncomfortable.

  Malcolm walked into the cafeteria, smelling the food and watching the other champions eating. Anna and Greenthumb were setting at a table together, engaged in lively, flirtatious conversation.

  Tapestry was at a table on her own, talking on the phone with someone, probably Melanie, if Malcolm had to guess. And Melt stood leaning against a wall in the corner, rubbing a red stained rag over a knife that had brass knuckles built into the grip.

  Eh. Not everybody can be well adjusted.

  Malcolm grabbed some eggs, toast, and ham from the serving table and sat down next to Tapestry. She was still on the phone, but nodded and wiggled her fingers at him in greeting.

  He ate his food, feeling like something, or rather, someone, was missing. Rose had told him once that she’d been a champion before turning into a spryte. Malcolm let himself dare to wonder what it would be like if she was allowed to be there, in the cafeteria, with him.

  Would it even be the same Rose that I know? Or someone else, with her own memories and a different purpose?

  The question was weighty enough to distract him for the entire meal. The intercom buzzed just as he set his fork down, and Multi’s voice boomed out from it.

  “We’re having a meeting about how today’s operation is going to work,” said Multi. “Finish your food and get your asses to the command room.”

  Malcolm smiled at Tapestry.

  “Well, he’s in a cheery mood,” he said.

  CHAPTER 29

  Multi stood in front of the monitors in the command room, flanked on either side by Wax and one other copy. Malcolm felt odd looking up at them, suddenly realizing that he knew far less about how Multi’s powers worked than he thought he did.

  He’s not all of them at once, but they all are him, or were him…? I’m going to confuse myself if I get caught up on this.

  “We have a mission to accomplish today,” said the original Multi. “For a while now we’ve been keeping tabs on the Awakened Children, but with the recent captures of Clearhand and Wind Runner, it’s clear that we need to take action.”

  The Multi to the left tapped on the keyboard, and a satellite image popped up on the screen.

  “This is Fisswater Junkyard,” said Multi. “Several of our non-champion agents have been strategically spreading rumors about a newly gifted teenager who has set up a base of operations here. This is where we will spring our trap.”

  Tapestry raised her hand, and Multi nodded to her.

  “Your plan is to draw out the demon, Rain Dancer, and attack him here?” she asked.

  Multi nodded.

  “Along with the shield spryte, too, if we can,” he said. “Melt, Greenthumb. The two of you don’t take orders from me, but any assistance you can lend to our operation would be greatly appreciated.”

  “We’re hunting monsters in the area,” said Greenthumb. “Given the nature of this mission, we’d be more than happy to lend our assistance. Right, Melt?”

  Melt grunted in agreement.

  “Good,” said Multi. “There’s more to it than just the junkyard.”

  The Multi to the left tapped on the keyboard some more, bringing up an image of the Awakened Children’s church where Malcolm had first encountered Shield Maiden and Rain Dancer.

  “I’m putting a skeleton of squad of two of you on this church, in case they try to retreat and hide among their followers,” said Multi. “Melt and Wind Runner, the two of you will find a place to safely watch the church from a distance and wait for them to make a move.”

  Malcolm frowned and started to voice his objection. Melt beat him to it.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” asked Melt. “This is backbench duty. I’m going with the main assault team.”

  “Absolutely not,” said Multi. He stared at Melt, his eyes burning with irritation over having his orders questioned.

  “And just why not?” snapped Melt.

  “Because I’ve worked with you before, Melt,” said Multi. “In case you’ve forgotten. I’m not interested in having a repeat of last time. It’s not Greenthumb’s job to calm you down when you get enraged.”

  “Don’t bring me into this,” said Greenthumb. He turned to face his partner. “Look Melt, chances are at least one of the monsters is going to head in your direction once the fighting heats up. This isn’t our show, let Multi decide where each of us would fit best.”

  Melt fumed, but slowly nodded his head. Malcolm scratched his head, wondering if there was any real need for him to press his own objection after that.

  Multi knows what he’s doing. And if they’re going to be fighting Rain Dancer, maybe it’s better if I’m not there, given that his power is my weakness.

  “Alright,” said Multi. “Tapestry, Morph, and Greenthumb. The three of you will head to the junkyard along with a small Multi contingent.”

  Multi went on to explain the mission in greater detail, most of it pertaining more to the main squad than Malcolm and Melt. He dismissed them after about an hour. Malcolm walked next to Tapestry on his way out of the compound.

  “Good luck,” he said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Tapestry smiled at him.

  “Trust me, I won’t,” she said. “Be careful.”

  He gave her a hug, feeling a little odd at how concerned he suddenly felt for her wellbeing. She could regenerate. She was practically invincible. And yet still, Malcolm had a bad feeling that he just couldn’t shake off.

  “Here.” Tapestry held out her hand. “Take every advantage you can get.”

  Malcolm glanced around before carefully placing his palm on top of hers and willing himself to take her power. He wasn’t always in control of the mimicry, but with Tapestry, it was easy. Sure enough, almost immediately he felt the familiar tingling tickle of the absorption of a power. He grinned at her, and the two set off.

  Melt was waiting next to a black truck and motioned for Malcolm to get in as he approached. They headed down the dirt trail and onto the main road in silence, until Melt finally cleared his throat and glanced over at him.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  Malcolm shrugged.

  “Uh, yeah?” he said. “I stopped at the little boy’s room on the way out of HQ. Figured that since we’re essentially on stakeout, that would be my most pressing need.”

  “We’re not going to be on stakeout,” said Melt. “Something’s going to
happen. Some shit is going to go wrong, and we’re going to clean up the fucking mess.”

  “Melt, were you the disturbed squad member from a war movie in a previous life?” asked Malcolm. “Because I can kind of see why Multi gave you this assignment.”

  Melt glared at him, and Malcolm had to admit, it was a little intimidating.

  “I’m approaching this rationally,” said Melt, in a voice that sounded anything but rational. “And if these cultists try to protect any of the monsters we find, we take them down, too. Got it?”

  “No,” said Malcolm. “I don’t. That’s not happening.”

  Melt slapped a hand against the dashboard.

  “You’re a child,” he said. “You don’t understand, do you? You don’t have a fucking clue.”

  “Well, feel free to share, if you’d like,” said Malcolm. “I’d certainly prefer a story to listening to you go full on PTSD for the rest of this drive.”

  Melt laughed. The sound of it put Malcolm on edge.

  “When I first became a champion,’ said Melt. “Greenthumb and I went after a demoness.”

  “A demoness?” Malcolm raised an eyebrow. “Those are pretty rare, aren’t they?”

  “Somewhat,” said Melt. “Most demons tend to be men, but there are a good number of female demons, and male sprytes, too. Anyway, this bitch went by the name ‘Bondage”, and she could sense the emotions of others.”

  Malcolm shrugged.

  “Doesn’t sound that bad,” he said. “As far as powers go, at least it can’t do physical harm.”

  “That’s what we thought,” said Melt. “And we were absolutely fucking wrong. She was smart, and she could sense us coming. She practically knew what we were thinking, and lured us into a trap.”

  Malcolm waited for Melt to continue, wondering where the story was headed.

  “Greenthumb got away,” said Melt. “But she caught me. She knew what my powers were and had a room set up ahead of time.”

  Melt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Malcolm immediately reached across to keep the truck on the road, staring at Melt in disbelief.

  This guy is not alright mentally.

  “She left me in this room,” said Melt. “With a single way out for me, using my powers. A tiny hole along the floor. I went through it, not knowing where it led.”

  “And?”

  “She trapped me… in a bottle,” said Melt. “Screwed the top back on. Duct taped over it. She held me in that bottle for about two months straight, before Greenthumb managed to take her down.”

  “Jesus…” muttered Malcolm.

  “She could still feel my emotions while I was in there,” said Melt. “She’d talk to me. Mess with my head. Do whatever she could to get an emotional response out of me. It was like a… sexual thing for her, I think.”

  Melt scratched the side of his neck and blinked a few times in quick succession.

  “That’s… heavy,” said Malcolm.

  “Two months is a long time…” said Melt. “She fucked me up. Boy, did that bitch fuck me up.”

  He slapped the steering wheel and then gripped it tight enough to make his fingers turn white.

  “She had me thinking…” Melt shook his head. “Fuck, I don’t even know what she had me thinking.”

  “What happened, in the end?” asked Malcolm.

  “Greenthumb found where she’d been keeping me,” he said. “Ben’s a good guy, but not a good killer. He managed to get me free, but the bitch got away.”

  Melt turned to stare at Malcolm, again ignoring the road as though crashing the truck was only a minor concern for him.

  “How many innocent people do you think are out there, right now, being held or tortured?” asked Melt. “Greenthumb knew I’d been captured, and still, it took him two months to find me. And he had the power of the Champion Authority helping him look…”

  Malcolm frowned and gave a small shake of his head.

  “That must have been pretty awful,” he said.

  “You’re damn fucking right it was.”

  Malcolm didn’t know what else to say. Melt was volatile, and it felt like any words he could offer would only risk setting the other man off. He endured the rest of the trip in silence.

  CHAPTER 30

  The church looked different from when he’d first seen it. The stain glass window that Malcom had shattered was covered by a large tarp. The effect was that the church blended in to the more decrepit buildings surrounding it.

  The other difference was that there were few people heading in or out. It looked abandoned, at least currently. Malcolm frowned, watching it from the dilapidated storefront across the street alongside Melt.

  “This is a waste of time,” muttered Melt.

  Malcolm shook his head.

  “I disagree,” he said. “Odds are, they’ve taken precautions since I escaped, but they wouldn’t just abandon this place completely.

  “You said that this wasn’t their base,” said Melt. “You said it was just a front for recruitment.”

  “I didn’t use those words, exactly,” said Malcolm. “It’s a church. And they do have a flock of true believers. To them, this building is sacred.”

  “Bah,” muttered Melt. “Waste of time.”

  Malcolm watched the church, feeling like something was off about the situation. Between Rain Dancer’s brashness and Shield Maiden’s intelligence, he was almost sure that they would have destroyed the church if they weren’t planning on coming back to it.

  I don’t think they’d want to leave any clues, even if it was just the hair and fingerprints of their followers.

  “This is taking too long!” snapped Melt.

  “Relax,” said Malcolm. “The plan is solid. We just need to be patient.”

  “Fuck patient,” said Melt. “We’re going inside.”

  He took a step toward the open doorway of the storefront. Malcolm grabbed Melt by the arm. Melt scowled, dissolving his shoulder and reforming it as soon as he was loose again.

  “Melt!” hissed Malcolm.

  Melt was already sprinting across the street. He didn’t stop at the church’s door, immediately transforming into dark red goo and sliding under the crack.

  Malcolm followed him, swearing under his breath every step of the way. Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden would have been stupid to not leave someone watching the church, and by heading inside first, Malcolm and Melt had given their opponents exactly what they wanted.

  He reached the church’s door and, deciding to forgo stealth, knocked it open with a wind assisted kick. Light streamed into an otherwise pitch black room, perfectly illuminating the center aisle between the pews.

  Malcolm walked forward slowly, frowning as he noticed that tarps had been hung in front of all the windows, not just the one he’d broken. Melt reformed a short distance away from him. The hairs on the back of Malcolm’s neck stood up as he connected the dots.

  “No…” he muttered.

  Shadow tendrils appeared from underneath benches and within dark corners, seizing both Malcolm and Melt. Melt immediately slid free using his power. Malcolm was paralyzed, not by the bonds, but his own despair.

  “Monster!” shouted Melt. “Die!”

  Rose appeared from behind a bench, a dark expression on her face. Melt charged toward her, slamming his foot forward into a front kick. Rose used her shadow tendrils to deflect the attack, spinning past him and attacking his face with claws made of darkness. Melt dissolved as the blow landed.

  Malcolm just stared, paralyzed by indecision. He couldn’t help Rose without attacking Melt. He couldn’t fight Rose without… fighting Rose. His heart pounded with concern and the weight of impending loss. There was no good ending to the encounter, not this time.

  You knew this would happen, eventually. From the first moment you brought her back to your apartment.

  “Wind Runner!” shouted Melt. “Don’t just stand there, you fool!”

  Malcolm twisted free of the shadow tendrils, noticing that th
ey were loose and weak. It was as though Rose hadn’t intended to hold him for more than just show. Did she expect him to come to her defense? To save her in her time of need, a gallant knight fighting for the sake of a dark, sultry princess?

  “”Don’t…” said Malcolm, forcing the words out. “We can’t win, Melt.”

  Already, the fight looked like a computer generated scene in an action movie. Rose was attacked by Melt from a dozen different angles, and each time, the champion dissolved his way past each strike, reforming his body with surreal ease.

  It was an over the top display of their powers, and Malcolm knew that it couldn’t go on forever. The body load of using a super ability at this intensity would make it hard for at least one of them, if not both, to keep focus. Malcolm could already see the signs of it in Rose. The frenzied darkness wrapped tighter around her body, and her eyes had turned into spheres of onyx in their sockets.

  “Fight her, you coward!” screamed Melt. He twisted, dodging a shadow tendril in the shape of grappling hook and reached into his coat. His hand came out holding a gun.

  Malcolm was there in an instant, throwing himself between Melt and Rose with the wind. A single shot rang out, the bullet going wide into the ceiling. The sound of it brought the fight to a pause for a moment, with both Melt and Rose staring at Malcolm in disbelief.

  “No,” said Malcolm. “Fight’s over…”

  “Malcolm…” whispered Rose.

  “What is wrong with you?” screamed Melt. “Kill her!”

  “No!” said Malcolm. “She… isn’t evil. It’s not right, Melt.”

  Malcolm knew that he’d said too much. Melt stared at him as though he’d just admitted to murder. The gun came back up in Melt’s hand. Malcolm rushed to push Rose out of the way, but Melt pulled the trigger faster than he could.

  Rose let out a high-pitched scream as the bullet struck her. She grasped her shoulder, falling down onto one knee. Malcolm took a step toward her and was slapped back by a massive shadow tendril. When Rose looked back up at him, her eyes were jet black, and black lines were spreading across the skin of her face like a spider web.