Wind Runner: The Complete Collection

by Edmund Hughes

  All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. All other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Edmund Hughes

  Kindle Edition

  CONTENTS

  Jade Portal

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 1

  Malcolm opened the door to his apartment and stared into the face of his dead brother on the other side. Danny grinned at him, his brow furrowing slightly in anticipation.

  “You…” whispered Malcolm.

  He stepped back, fear surging through his chest as he considered his situation. He was standing a few feet away from one of the most powerful demons he’d encountered in his time as a champion. One that he, along with his partner and a good natured spryte, had killed, or at least, so he’d thought.

  He’s here for revenge. And once he’s done with me… he’ll go after them.

  Malcolm balled his hands into fists. He wasn’t going to let Danny kill him without a fight. He was Wind Runner, one of the few remaining heroes in what was left of his small town.

  He had his wind manipulation, along with power mimicry, a rare, uncontrolled ability that allowed him to absorb a single power from other champions. At the moment, he had the ability to regenerate meaning that any wounds Danny inflicted would immediately begin to heal.

  Malcolm remembered the way that his brother had tortured Tapestry and grimaced at the realization that her borrowed power would only postpone an incredibly painful death at the hands of his older brother.

  “You look like you just saw a fucking ghost,” said Danny. “Oh shit! I forgot. You didn’t know.”

  “Didn’t… know what?” asked Malcolm. He angled himself slightly in relation to the door, trying to make himself a smaller target. Fighting inside his apartment or the hallway leading to it was a horrible idea, and Malcolm wondered if it would be better to retreat out one of his windows and lead Danny somewhere less destructible.

  “You tried to kill me with an explosion,” said Danny. “Doesn’t work when it hits me from outside my body, bro. I can travel into external heat sources. I don’t blame you for not knowing, but you and your friends started celebrating way too fucking early.”

  Malcolm nodded slowly, but was barely tuned into the conversation. His partner, Tapestry, had given him a small .22 pistol a couple of days earlier. It was for protection, given that that the current state of Vanderbrook was anything but safe for champions in the public eye. He didn’t have it on him. It was in his room, under his bed, unloaded.

  Thwarted by my own attention to safety protocol. Awesome.

  “Danny,” Malcolm said, keeping his voice even. “If you’re going to do this, let’s at least take it somewhere else, and keep other people from getting hurt.”

  He reached out with the wind, feeling as it responded to the call. There were limits to its offensive capabilities, but it was still a useful tool. Malcolm had learned to move quicker with it and expand his awareness out further, reacting to small vibrations in the air and giving himself an extra edge in combat.

  “What?” Danny frowned at him and shook his head. “Shit, bro, you got me all wrong. Look… I came here… you know.”

  Danny shifted awkwardly, looking away from the apartment door and down the hallway.

  “I’ve been fucked up lately,” said Danny.

  Malcolm blinked, slowly shaking his head.

  “You murdered people, Danny,” he said. “Dozens. Probably closer to hundreds. You killed mom!”

  She’d been his first victim, from what Malcolm was able to piece together. On Day One of the Phenomenon, when people had first begun to discover their superpowers, or “gifts”, Danny had been one of a small percentage immediately unable to control their superpowers properly. He’d blown up their family home, with Laura Caldwell still inside.

  “Shit, I know, Malcolm,” said Danny. He sighed and looked away. “Look, can I come in for a bit? So we have a chance to sit down and you know… talk?”

  “Why would you think that I’d just… let you into my apartment?” asked Malcolm. “After everything that you’ve done.”

  Danny shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” said Danny. “I guess cause… you’re my brother. My memory is all fucked up, but I remember things about you. About how you were to people. To me. And how many times you gave me another chance.”

  Malcolm started to shake his head no. Danny held up a finger.

  “Also, I brought beer,” he said, holding up a cheap six pack he’d been hiding behind his back.

  “Oh goody,” said Malcolm, rolling his eyes. “That certainly changes everything.”

  He stepped to the side and gestured for Danny to come in, even as most of his instincts screamed out in warning or anger. Trusting his brother again, in any capacity, was somewhere between a bad idea and the worst idea. Danny was a killer, and not just an accidental one, either.

  He murdered people in cold blood during our last fight.

  Danny held a beer out to him. Malcolm hesitated for a second, and then accepted it.

  “I’m sorry,” said Danny, his voice coming out raspy, and whispered. “Malcolm, I am so fucking sorry. I remember the things I’ve done. And…”

  Danny closed his eyes. He took his own beer and pressed it against his forehead, as though the cold perspiration of the glass bottle could counteract all the damage he’d done with his powers.

  “Danny…” Malcolm shook his head, wanting to scream and yell, but forcing himself to hold back. His brother’s apology changed nothing. But, it was a step up from having him rampage around the city, blowing up houses and torching traffic.

  The two of them drank in silence for a minute, Danny finishing his first beer and opening a second. Malcolm hadn’t forgiven his brother, and still felt an enormous amount of rage. Now, it just felt like there was nowhere for it to go. He didn’t hate Danny anymore. He pitied him.

  “I saw one of your girlfriends the other day,” said Danny.

  Malcolm raised an eyebrow.

  “What?”

  “The shadow spryte,” said Danny. “She’s working with other monsters now, Malcolm. They’re led by some dreadlock punk named Rain Dancer.”

  Malcolm exhaled through his teeth and sipped his beer. Danny was talking about Rose, the mysterious and beautiful spryte who’d entered his life and left it just as quickly. Malcolm knew she’d formed an alliance with Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden, the two de facto rulers of the monsters in the area, now that the Champion Authority’s base had been destroyed. It wasn’t something he liked to think about.

  “When?” asked Malcolm. “And… where?”

  “They captured me,” said Danny. “Held me somewhere underground. Fucking idiots thought that they could get me to work
with them or something. It sounds like they’ve worked out their own crazy philosophy thing. Not my cup of tea!”

  “Do you remember where their base was?” asked Malcolm.

  “In the sewers, somewhere,” said Danny. “I didn’t pay much attention. Too pissed off about the smell on my way out.”

  Malcolm shook his head, unsure of what to make of that. The last couple of days had been hell for him and the rest of the champions in Vanderbrook.

  Multi, the leader of the Vanderbrook champions, had been taken prisoner by Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden. To make matters worse, the growing “monster rights” movement that had sprung up on the internet had turned Vanderbrook into a place where sprytes and demons walked freely through the city without concern for repercussion.

  The police tended to look the other way, when to do otherwise often meant certain death. It was only a small comfort to know that his brother had refused to work with the enemy, given that it also meant that Rain Dancer was still actively recruiting.

  “Danny, why did you come here?” asked Malcolm.

  “To apologize,” said Danny.

  Malcolm stared at him.

  “You’re my brother, Danny,” he said. “I know you. If you just wanted to apologize, you would have done that and then left. Tell me what you want.”

  Malcolm felt an edge entering his voice. He was still mad at Danny, and fully aware of just how much blood his brother had on his hands. Malcolm would listen to what he had to say, since he was technically still his brother, and had come in peace. But that was it.

  Sure. Just like with Rose, and how I only helped her back on her feet. Right…

  “You’re really mad at me, aren’t you?” asked Danny.

  Malcolm didn’t feel the need to answer that question.

  “Reminds me of the time that I banged Cynthia Wheeler,” said Danny. “Remember that shit? You were in love with her little sister, Maggie?”

  “I wasn’t…” Malcolm scowled and rolled his eyes. “I had a crush on her, that’s it.”

  “You were obsessed with her,” said Danny, grinning. “And then I went and fucked things up by breaking her older sister’s heart. Their whole family turned against us… not really fair for you.”

  “Danny, that was half a decade ago,” said Malcolm.

  “I know.” Danny glanced to the side, and then leaned in conspiratorially. “Just so you know… You didn’t miss out on much. Cynthia had really weird nipples. Probably her little sister did, too. That shit runs in the family.”

  Malcolm had to fight to keep from smiling. He shook his head.

  “Enough,” he said. “Why are you here, Danny? Get to the point.”

  Danny shifted uncomfortably on the couch. He picked up another beer and offered it to Malcolm, who refused.

  “I… need money,” said Danny.

  Malcolm blinked.

  Time is a flat circle.

  CHAPTER 2

  “You have got to be kidding me,” said Malcolm.

  “Look, just hear me out,” said Danny. “With the way things are right now… I might have a chance.”

  “A chance for what?” Malcolm paced the floor of his living room, feeling his annoyance build. “To fleece your little brother out of a few hundred dollars? You’re like… a caricature of yourself, Danny!”

  “It’d be closer to a thousand,” said Danny, quietly. “But hold on, just listen for a second.”

  He reached down and lifted the six pack, wiggling it in the air. Malcolm shook his head.

  “Am I supposed to guess your meaning from this?” he asked. “Beer? You’re planning on… investing in beer?”

  “I have beer,” said Danny. “I was able to go into a store and buy beer. One of the small Korean owned convenience stores on Denlaw Street. My point is, look at the way the city is right now.”

  “It’s chaos,” said Malcolm. “People are scared, Danny. Monsters are running around in broad daylight, and nobody can do a thing about it.”

  He scowled, sipping on his beer and remembering how easily Rain Dancer had trashed the Champion Authority HQ.

  “Fuck, Malcolm,” said Danny. “I don’t disagree with that. But, this is also a chance for me. I could maybe get away from all this. I found someone willing to rent me a cabin, more of a shack, really. Outside of town, away from people.”

  Malcolm paused.

  Away from people. Where he hopefully wouldn’t hurt anyone if he had an episode.

  “Why do you deserve a second chance?” asked Malcolm.

  “I don’t.” Danny chuckled like it was a joke. “I don’t know… It’s either this or nothing. Or I guess, if you really don’t think I deserve a second chance, then you could still give me the money and I could just drink myself to death?”

  “Or I could not give you the money and not care,” said Malcolm. “I’m leaving all my options on the table.”

  Danny nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything, which left Malcolm time to consider just how shitty a situation his brother was putting him in. He would feel the weight of so many deaths on his hands if Danny became Hothead again and started killing without restraint.

  Then again, if Malcolm gave him the money, he would have to scramble just to make rent that month. He’d been paying for his apartment with a fund he’d set up shortly after his mother’s death, and it was running dangerously low. Malcolm had been counting on his salary as a champion to make ends meet, but with the local headquarters destroyed, he wasn’t sure where his next paycheck would be coming from.

  “Fine,” said Malcolm, with a sigh. “But you have to promise me that you will never kill anyone again. I’m not giving this money to you as a kind brother. I’m giving it to you in exchange for services.”

  “And the service is not killing people?” asked Danny, voice sober.

  “…Yeah.” Malcolm shrugged. “People have spent money on worse things.” He walked into his bedroom. “Is a check okay?” he asked, sarcastically.

  “Actually, yeah,” said Danny. “One of the banks is advertising the fact that monsters are welcome through its doors now. Can you fucking believe that? A week with the champions gone and it’s a different world.”

  “The champions aren’t gone,” said Malcolm. “Just… biding their time.”

  Malcolm found his checkbook, signed a check, and pushed it into Danny’s hand.

  “Thanks, little bro,” he said. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I’ll pay you back if I can, I swear.”

  Malcolm massaged his temples.

  “Pay me back by never showing your face around here again.” He locked eyes with Danny, glaring at him slightly.

  Danny chuckled as though it were a joke.

  “Righto, bucko,” he said. “I guess that’s my signal to fuck off. Mind if I take the rest of the beers?”

  “Just… get out,” said Malcolm.

  Danny nodded to him. He slipped the check into his pocket, picked up what remained of the six pack, and slipped out into the hallway. Malcolm closed the door as soon as he was out of sight and leaned his back against it.

  Why the hell did I just do that?

  Malcolm walked over to the couch and sat down on it. He still had a little beer left in the bottle he’d been drinking from. He sipped at it, trying to parse through his interaction with Danny, and whether there was any hope of his brother turning over a new leaf.

  A couple of minutes went by. Malcolm turned on his PS4, too annoyed to think about his brother any longer. Another knock came at the door just as he was getting in-game and he swore under his breath as he paused it and stood up.

  “I told you,” Malcolm said, swinging the door open. “I never want to see…”

  He’d been expecting his brother. Instead, a petite blonde woman stood in the hallway, her emerald eyes sharp and alert. She wore a brown leather jacket over a white blouse and jeans, an outfit that showcased her trim figure and modest curves.

  “See what?” asked Tapestry. “Expecting somebody
else?”

  Malcolm winced.

  “I got into an argument with the pizza guy earlier,” he lied. “Over his tip.”

  “Really?” Tapestry brushed past him and into his apartment. “Where’s the pizza?”

  Malcolm gestured to the box on his kitchen counter, which he’d ordered late last night. There were still a few slices left, if Tapestry insisted on more proof. He frowned and closed the door, considering his fellow champion as she surveyed his apartment.

  Tapestry had been suspicious of Malcolm almost since his first day as a champion. She was one of the few people who knew about his secondary ability, which let him absorb the powers of other champions, oftentimes her power.

  She’d been there during the fight with Hothead, and knew that the demon was actually Malcolm’s brother, Danny. She also knew that he had other secrets, things that he kept even from her, and it fed her suspicions of him, though they were still on friendly terms.

  “Are you expecting to find a dead body in my apartment, Tapestry?” asked Malcolm. “Maybe a couple of kilos of coke lying around?”

  She shot him an indecipherable look and continued on, stopping in front of his bedroom door.

  “May I?” she asked.

  Malcolm grinned.

  “Far be it for me to stop a beautiful woman from entering my bedroom,” he said. “Here, I can give you a demonstration of the softness of my bed.”