Wind Runner: The Complete Collection

by Edmund Hughes

  Tapestry glared at him. She opened his bedroom door for long enough to take stock of what was on the other side, and then closed it firmly.

  “You aren’t as funny as you think you are,” she said.

  “I think you just have an old-fashioned sense of humor,” said Malcolm.

  Tapestry’s mouth dropped open, surprise and offense evident in her expression. Malcolm kept smiling, though he knew he’d just made exactly the wrong kind of joke.

  Despite appearing to be in her late teens or early twenties, Tapestry was far older. She was 98, and kept eternally youthful as a side effect of her regeneration power.

  “Thanks for proving my point,” she said.

  “Oh, come on, Tapestry,” said Malcolm. “Lighten up.”

  He sat back down on the couch, briefly turning his attention back to his game while letting Tapestry continue her investigation. There was nothing to find in his apartment, and there hadn’t been for more than a week now, aside from Danny’s brief visit.

  I should be happy about that, shouldn’t I?

  Rose, Malcolm’s friend and occasional spryte lover, had defected to the other side. He didn’t like to think about what that meant for him personally, given how the conflict between the Vanderbrook champions and Rain Dancer’s faction was intensifying.

  It was partially his fault. Malcolm had pushed Rose into seeking out her sister, inadvertently introducing her to the Awakened Children cult, and the two monsters, Rain Dancer and Shield Maiden, at its head. He still wasn’t sure what he would do if put in another situation where he had to fight Rose.

  “Satisfied?” asked Malcolm, glancing at Tapestry as she took a seat next to him on the couch.

  “For now,” said Tapestry. “But I’ve got my eyes on you.”

  Malcolm paused the game and met her gaze.

  “Good to know,” he said.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Anyway, I thought you said you’d be by earlier,” said Malcolm. “It’s past noon.”

  “I had to take the bus,” said Tapestry. “The last time I drove my car, someone almost tailed me home. Rain Dancer and the rest of the monsters are getting bolder.”

  “That’s brazen,” said Malcolm. “And also fairly creepy.”

  Tapestry folded her arms, glaring at the wall.

  “What’s creepy is what I’ve been hearing about Shield Maiden’s activity on the world wide web,” said Tapestry.

  Malcolm chuckled.

  “The world wide web,” he said, trying not to mock her too much with his tone. “Sometimes I forget that the internet is still a new thing to you.”

  “Melanie keeps me informed,” said Tapestry. “I don’t see a real need for it.”

  Malcolm shrugged. They’d had this conversation before. Either out of stubbornness or an inability to attempt new things, Tapestry remained deeply hesitant to give the internet, including just browsing the web on her phone, much more than the occasional try.

  “She showed you the video, though, right?” asked Malcolm. “The one of the… young spryte?”

  “She didn’t have to,” said Tapestry. “It was on the news.”

  A video filmed by a passerby depicted two champions fighting, and eventually killing, a pretty young spryte with a sonic charged voice. The video had gone viral at the start of the week. Shield Maiden and several other monsters across the country had seized the opportunity on social media, pushing for #monsterrights and denouncing the Champion Authority as a fascist organization.

  I can’t honestly say that I blame them, either.

  “It’s not just sprytes and demons,” said Malcolm. “A lot of normal people are getting involved now, too. Tapestry, this could get really out of hand.”

  “Because it isn’t already?” she asked, her voice slightly miffed. “Rain Dancer destroyed our headquarters. He’s not some dignified, civil rights saint, and neither is Shield Maiden.”

  “You don’t have to tell me,” said Malcolm.

  He’d seen Rain Dancer murder a young gifted teenager in his underground base. It had been worse than what he’d seen in the video of the spryte, but without footage proving that it had happened, nobody would care if he went public with it.

  “Anyway,” he continued. “How’s the rest of the team holding up?”

  Tapestry sighed. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she took the ends of it between her fingers and started playing with it.

  “Greenthumb is still in the hospital,” she said. “He’s awake now, though, and his breathing has stabilized.”

  “Good,” said Malcolm.

  “Anna’s staying at a hotel nearby,” said Tapestry. “She’s been visiting Greenthumb regularly, and making sure that it’s still safe for him there.”

  “What about Wax?” asked Malcolm. “And Multi?”

  Tapestry shrugged.

  “No word of Multi,” said Tapestry. “He’s still being held by Rain Dancer, as far as I know.”

  “Bad situation for us,” said Malcolm. “Rain Dancer has a penchant for trying to turn champions into demons and sprytes. And Multi would make for a very dangerous enemy.”

  He’s our former boss. He knows all our weaknesses, and can make copies of himself.

  “We just have to hope that he manages to hold out,” said Tapestry. “And we still have Wax on our side, at least.”

  “Where has he been?” asked Malcolm.

  “In a homeless shelter.” Tapestry sighed. “I offered to let him stay with me, but he said that it would draw too much attention.”

  Malcolm nodded.

  “That sounds like him,” he said. “Though I’m sure the food at your place would be a vast improvement. Speaking of which, how’s Melanie doing?”

  Tapestry smiled.

  “She’s fine,” said Tapestry. “Still going to school, living a normal life. She bought one of those ridiculous game consoles that you have, which I think is a huge waste of money.”

  “I’ll have to get her gamer tag.” Malcolm crossed his legs and shifted on the couch, his expression growing serious. “And what about you? It’s been a couple of days since the two of us have really… talked.”

  In fact, it had been over a week, since before the attack on their headquarters. Tapestry had been all business since then, rebuffing any of Malcolm’s attempts to close the distance between them.

  They were friends, but they’d also been intimate before. Malcolm felt a confusing mixture of emotions whenever he thought about Tapestry and how he felt about her. She seemed better at compartmentalizing their relationship than he was, and he wondered if it was due to the massive age advantage she had over him.

  “We talk all the time,” said Tapestry. “What do you mean?”

  “You know exactly what I mean,” said Malcolm.

  Tapestry just looked at him. Her expression told him all he needed to know.

  She doesn’t trust me like that. And she never will, unless I tell her the truth.

  “I’ll have you over for dinner sometime soon,” said Tapestry, her voice level. “Melanie’s been insisting on it. I’d like for us to be close, Malcolm. But it’s as much on you as it is on me.”

  Malcolm shrugged. He glanced at his phone.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “Anyway, it looks like it’s almost time. Are you ready?”

  Tapestry nodded.

  “We should leave soon,” she said. “I’m not sure if he’ll arrive a little early, or a little late…”

  “There’s going to be a protest there,” said Malcolm. “The monster rights faction got word of his arrival, and plan on showing up with signs and chants.”

  “Savior’s probably the most powerful champion that’s ever existed,” said Tapestry. “I think he’ll be able to handle it.”

  The two of them headed out of Malcolm’s apartment and onto the street. They took a bus from Vanderbrook to the Halter City airport, the trip taking close to an hour. It was midafternoon when they arrived, and the sun overhead was hidden by cloud cov
er.

  “Do you think the weather is going to affect his arrival?” asked Malcolm, as they headed into the airport through the main entrance.

  Tapestry shrugged.

  “You’d know better than I do,” she said. “I’ve never met Savior, and obviously, I can’t fly.”

  “What I do is a bit more like jumping with style,” said Malcolm. “But seriously… Why doesn’t he come straight to Vanderbrook? It’s not like a superhero with flight powers is limited to taking off and landing in airports.”

  “Because it’s the law?” said Tapestry. “He’s actually the one that introduced the bill. All superhuman air travel over a distance greater than ten miles is limited to official flight paths. And it requires that you check in with air traffic on departure and destination.”

  “Huh,” said Malcolm. “I did not know that.”

  Seems like unnecessary regulation on the part of the government. Then again, Savior is the executive director of the Champion Authority and a Senator, so maybe he’s the bureaucratic type.

  The two of them slipped into the airport and walked along a wide hallway, toward the arrivals gate. As Malcolm had expected, there were already a few dozen people congregated in front of the airport. They held signs that said things like “#monsterrights” and “Savior is no Savior”. He frowned, noticing a few police officers who’d been assigned to keep the protesters in check.

  “What do you think the odds are of Rain Dancer or a member of his faction making an appearance?” he asked.

  Tapestry shrugged.

  “It doesn’t really matter,” she said. “None of them are strong enough to stand against Savior. The fact that he’s come to our area in the first place really says volumes about how bad the situation has gotten.”

  “You don’t even think Rain Dancer could take him on?” asked Malcolm.

  Tapestry furrowed her brow, as though the question was almost too stupid for her to answer.

  “Savior is invulnerable,” she said. “He can fly. He can launch directed energy blasts out of the palms of his hands. He’s super strong. And he can create offensive illusions. No, Malcolm, I don’t think Rain Dancer could take him on.”

  “Hey, you don’t have to be grumpy about it,” said Malcolm. “I was just asking.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Savior’s arrival was a little anticlimactic. A small contrail slowly cut through the clouds overhead before trailing off. A few minutes later the tiny dot slowly became discernable as a man. As he descended the last few hundred feet toward the airport’s runway, the crowd exploded into chants.

  “Savior, not a saint!” they shouted. “Murderer, full of hate!”

  Malcolm glanced at Tapestry, feeling a little awkward standing so close to the protesters. She waved a hand at him dismissively.

  “We should wait here for now,” she said. “For their sake, more than Savior’s. We don’t want anyone trying to rush him as soon as he comes in.”

  Savior took his time walking through the gate. He was wearing a dress shirt tucked into jeans, with a navy blazer that looked rumpled from the wind. His hair was a salt and pepper black and grey, and he had a handsome face with a strong jaw. He looked about fifty, but still very well put together.

  “Savior, not a saint!” roared the crowd. “Murderer, full of hate!”

  Savior grinned and appeared to let out a genuine laugh. He gestured to Malcolm and Tapestry, apparently recognizing them on sight.

  “Local champions?” asked Savior, as they drew in close. His voice was resonant, with a hint of smoky scratchiness to it.

  “That’s right,” said Tapestry. “I’m-”

  “Tapestry, right?” said Savior. “My assistant said you were pretty when he set up the meeting, but wow! And this, here, must be the infamous Wind Cutter I’ve been hearing so much about.”

  “Uh…” Malcolm frowned. “It’s Wind Runner.”

  “Right, right,” said Savior. “Cutter, you’re in charge of security. I should say something to the crowd. It seems a shame for so many of them to come out to see me and not get a speech.”

  Savior plastered a phony grin on his face and turned toward the angry, chanting crowd. He waved at the protesters and then held his hands out wide, as though he was the one welcoming them.

  “Greetings!” called Savior. The crowd went silent.

  Protesters stopping to hear what their target has to say? I am thoroughly amazed.

  “If you’re interested in getting a selfie or an autograph with me, please return at the time of my departure,” said Savior. “I’ll inform the local news ahead of time, so it can be announced. I usually try to get to the airport about an hour early, and will be open to your requests then.”

  The protesters glanced at each other. One of them started chanting again. Savior laughed and gestured for him to stop.

  “Holy smokes,” he said. “You folks are impatient. I just thought I’d leave you with a few parting words of inspiration.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “It doesn’t matter the color of your skin,” said Savior. “Or whether you have superpowers, or where you live, how much money you make, who your parents were, what school you went to, whether you’re alive, uh, or dead. None of it… really matters. Hmm. Think about that one, that’s pretty deep.”

  Savior lowered his arms and nodded to Malcolm and Tapestry. The two of them hurried over, falling into step next to him.

  A gunshot cut through the moment, loud and tasteless. Malcolm lowered his head out of reflex. He glanced over at Tapestry, and then at Savior.

  The head of the Champion Authority had a bullet stuck to the center of his forehead. He almost seemed not to notice, squinting around just like Malcolm was to discern where the damage had been done. Finally, he reached up, plucking the mostly flattened chunk of metal loose from his head. There was no mark underneath it.

  “Hmm… a bullet,” said Savior. “One of the many things of which I’m invulnerable to. How ironic.”

  Uh… That’s barely a coincidence.

  The shooter was already retreating, crouching low as he ran past a luggage carousel. Savior lifted up one of his hands, as if considering whether to blast the man with energy. He sighed, and then stepped into the air, effortlessly taking flight.

  Savior sped across the floor, only a few feet above the ground, and seized the man by the back of the shirt. He knocked loose the gun, an expensive looking rifle, and carried the offender back into range of the crowd.

  “It gives me pause to think that a man’s heart can be so full of hate,” said Savior. “You should take up a hobby. Perhaps clay sculpting.”

  “Fuck you!” shouted the man. “Fascist.”

  Savior chuckled. He took the man by the face and locked eyes with him. The man blinked a couple of times in quick succession, and then let out a horrible, panicked scream. Savior stepped back from him. Malcolm watched as the man rolled and patted at his clothes.

  “It’s whatever his worst fear is,” whispered Savior.

  “That seems a little… intense,” said Malcolm.

  The man was clawing at his clothing, ripping both the fabric and the skin underneath.

  “It’ll wear off in a couple of hours,” said Savior. “Now. Shall we make our grand departure?”

  The police were already hurrying over to take the assassin into custody. Malcolm wasn’t sure whether what Savior had done to the man was merciful, or cruel and unusual. He had to force himself to take his attention off the screaming and fall back into step with his fellow champions.

  “Weren’t you on security detail, Cutter?” asked Savior.

  “Should I bother correcting you, or is that my new nickname?” asked Malcolm.

  Tapestry glared at him.

  “He’s right, you know,” she said. “You completely missed the shooter. If it wasn’t for Savior’s invulnerability, how would that situation have played out?”

  Malcolm grimaced, feeling his cheeks flush slightly. She had a point. Tapestry h
ad shown him what to do in a situation like this in training. He’d been distracted, both by the crowd and by his own thoughts.

  “I guess you could say that… he had his head stuck in the clouds?” said Savior. Tapestry laughed. Malcolm didn’t.

  “Get it, Cutter?” Savior elbowed him in the ribs. “Like, you have wind powers? Wind powers… that you could fly with? Head stuck up in the–”

  “I get it,” said Malcolm. “Funny.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Malcolm trailed behind Tapestry and Savior as they walked. They seemed to be getting along quite well, with Savior regaling Tapestry with stories of battles he’d been in, and famous people he’d met.

  “He didn’t correct me,” said Savior. “I spent almost an hour treating him like he was Prime Minister of Australia! New Zealand, though, totally different place.”

  “Oh, that’s an easy mistake,” said Tapestry. “Anyone could have made it.”

  “Yeah,” said Malcolm. “I’m sure you’re not the only US Senator to completely confuse two sovereign nations, thousands of miles apart.”

  “Right?” said Savior. Tapestry glared at Malcolm.

  The protesters followed them, at least to the entrance of the airport. Two police officers were on duty there, apparently assigned to be Savior’s official escort on behalf of Halter City. He sent them off with a smile and a wave, and then set a hand on Malcolm and Tapestry’s shoulders.

  “Now listen,” said Savior. “It’s probably better if I don’t travel with you directly to our destination. I’m a little bit too famous for that.”

  “Of course,” said Tapestry. “Here, I already wrote down my address.”

  She pulled out a slip of paper and passed it to Savior.

  “My number’s also on the back,” she quickly added. Malcolm struggled to keep his reaction controlled.

  “I’ll meet you there in a lickety split,” said Savior. “Fear not, fellow champions. Your Savior has arrived, and soon the situation will be handled!”

  He lowered himself into a squat, and then took off into the air. Malcolm watched him disappear into the distance, and then glanced over at Tapestry.