Wind Runner: The Complete Collection Read online

  “Baking, actually,” said Tapestry. “Walk me through the moment you discovered your gift, Malcolm.”

  “Okay…” He thought back to the previous day, running over the sequence of events. “I was in class, answering the teacher’s question. Oh god, I hope it doesn’t turn out to be going to school, or studying.”

  Malcolm hadn’t given much thought to what was going to happen with his college classes, now that he was a champion. He supposed he’d have to call and withdraw from them within the next few days, but if he needed to sit in a classroom to recharge his powers, he might not have the option to drop out.

  “Stay focused, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “What else? There must have been something more than just that.”

  “Wait…” Malcolm considered for a moment. “I was listening to music.”

  Tapestry gave him a funny look.

  “You were listening to music,” she said. “Like, at the end of class?”

  “While the teacher was lecturing,” he said. “If you knew what her voice sounded like, you’d understand.”

  Tapestry blinked several times in quick succession, her mouth quirking down into a frown. Malcolm grinned at her intensity.

  “Hey, I was still one of the better students,” he said. “But… do you think that might be it?”

  Tapestry gave a shrug.

  “Usually it’s a certain kind, or genre, of music,” she said. “No other champions with music as their focus activity can just listen to any song and recharge.”

  “90s alt rock,” confirmed Malcolm. “Here, I have some on my phone.”

  He pulled it out and queued up a song. It started playing through his phone’s speaker, and he watched the ducks turn their attention toward the new disturbance.

  “Can you feel anything?” asked Tapestry.

  Malcolm nodded slowly. It was an odd sensation, almost like being on a drug. His body tingled, and the sense of nostalgia he usually got from listening to the music, his brother Danny’s favorite music, was massively amplified.

  “Good,” said Tapestry. “Then that’s it, then. You can turn it off.”

  “Okay.” He grinned at her. “Not a fan of Soundgarden?”

  Tapestry snorted.

  “The music I like comes from another generation,” she said. “It’s fine, though. I don’t mind this. We just have to keep moving with your training.”

  She tossed the rest of the bread crumbs to the appreciative ducks, creating a minor feeding frenzy, and wiped her hands on her jeans. Malcolm stood up alongside her, enjoying the morning.

  A police car sped down the street alongside the park, lights flashing and sirens whirring. Tapestry frowned at it, and then pulled her phone out of her pocket and scanned the screen.

  “School shooting,” she said. “Training will have to wait.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Malcolm held onto the inside handle of the BMW’s passenger door for dear life. Tapestry sped down the street, apparently having anointed herself with the same driving privileges as the police.

  “Isn’t this something that the police would usually handle?” asked Malcolm. “Or maybe SWAT? Along with a charismatic, empathetic negotiator?”

  “They asked for our help specifically,” said Tapestry. “And besides, it’s at Holy Cross High.”

  Malcolm shrugged.

  “I went to West Vanderbrook High,” he said. “Not to sound callous, but the name doesn’t mean anything to me.”

  “It does to me,” said Tapestry. “Someone I care about goes to school there.”

  She pulled into the school’s parking lot, driving the BMW up to the drop off lane. The police had already set up their perimeter. They seemed to recognize Tapestry on sight, which Malcolm found a little odd, given how low her profile as a champion otherwise was.

  “Captain,” she said, nodding to the policeman in charge. “I’m going to head in. This is Wind Runner, my new apprentice.”

  Apprentice? Seriously?

  “He’s on the second floor in the east wing,” said the police chief. “We’ve pulled all of our people out and evacuated most of the students, but everyone in a classroom connected to that hallway is trapped.”

  “We’ll take care of it,” said Tapestry. “Just keep your men out of the way.”

  Malcolm was impressed by her confidence. She started running toward the school’s entrance, crouching and moving fast. Malcolm followed her example, slipping through one of the doors behind her.

  The inside of the school was empty. Light streamed in through the windows behind them, giving the rows of unattended lockers a Sunday morning ambience. Tapestry slowed her pace forward, taking swift, silent steps as she headed for the staircase.

  “What’s our plan going to be?” whispered Malcolm, as they approached the staircase.

  “I attack,” she replied, quietly. “You evacuate. Use your powers to get people safely down to the ground.”

  “Wait, why do you get to attack?”

  The look Tapestry gave him was more than a little condescending.

  “Because I know what I’m doing,” she whispered. “And because if I get shot, I won’t die. Regeneration is my power, Malcolm.”

  He couldn’t argue with that logic, and there was no time. Malcolm nodded and followed close behind her as they slipped the stairs. Tapestry pressed herself tight against the corner when they reached the top, peering to get a sense of the scene. Malcolm lowered himself to a crouch and did the same from a lower angle, doing his best not to sneak a peek at her butt.

  The shooter was at the end of the hallway, pacing back and forth and paying less than optimal attention to his surroundings. He looked like a student, except he held two pistols, and was muttering to himself. Malcolm felt his heart pounding as he considered the situation of the students still trapped in the wing.

  “Ready?” mouthed Tapestry.

  Malcolm nodded.

  Tapestry headed out first, holding her hands up in the air and making herself into a target. She walked toward the shooter slowly, letting the boy focus his attention on her before talking to him in a soft voice.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” said Tapestry. “Let’s just talk. I know you’re angry, and confused…”

  Malcolm didn’t waste any time. He used the wind to propel himself down to the opposite end of the hallway, checking each room for trapped students as he went. Most of them were already empty. One of them had a small, red pool of blood on the center of the floor, but there was no body in sight.

  He moved to the next classroom, and then the next after that, slowly approaching Tapestry and the shooter. He couldn’t hear what she was saying to him, but the boy hadn’t opened fire, which was a good sign.

  Malcolm found a classroom full of older students three doors down from the danger at the end of the hallway. The door was barricaded, and they were all hiding underneath desks, shielding themselves with books. Malcolm tapped on the door urgently. They just stared at him.

  Of course. They don’t know who the shooter is. I need to convince them that they can trust me.

  He waved through the vertical window alongside the door, and then used his wind manipulation to make his clothes flutter while miming running in place. Most of the students looked he was crazy, but one of them picked up on his meaning and explained it to the rest. Malcolm waited, feeling impatient and more than a little stressed out as they got the door open.

  He slid into the classroom and shut the door firmly behind him. The students, along with their teacher, a chubby woman with red hair, looked at him expectantly.

  “I’m going to get you out of here,” he said. “You’re going out the window. Don’t worry, I can make it so that your fall is cushioned by the wind.

  At least, I think I can. This will be the test case.

  “Class!” said the teacher, in a high-pitched voice. “Just… follow along with what the champion is saying. Evacuating is the best thing we can do at the moment.”

  Malcolm heard the shooter shout so
mething out in the hallway. He frowned, trying to push his concern for Tapestry to the side so that he could focus on the rescue.

  The window had a screen behind it that was attached firmly to the window frame. Malcolm knocked through both the glass and the screen with a concentrated blast of wind.

  “Anybody interested in going first?” he asked.

  None of the students said anything. Malcolm pointed to one at random.

  “You’re up,” he said.

  It wasn’t as hard as he’d expected it to be. Each of the students climbed halfway out the window, and then Malcolm gave them the signal to jump and created a cushion of wind to slow their fall before they hit the ground. A few, too afraid to let go, had to be pushed out the window.

  “You’re Wind Runner?” One of the girls, a short brunette with freckles, stepped in close to Malcolm. “I saw you, yesterday. On the TV. And on Instagram. And on Twitter… Your name is a hashtag now that people use whenever someone does something outrageous and gets away with it. I think it’s appropriate. It just seems to fit you really well. Wind Runner. Did you pick it, or-”

  “Hey,” said Malcolm. “No offense, but I’m trying to focus.”

  He had to push another student out the window, and this one let out an almost comical cry as he fell to the ground, the wind slowing his fall to almost a standstill for the last few feet.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you,” said the girl. “My name’s Melanie. I talk a lot. Especially when I’m nervous. You didn’t go to school here, did you? I’d recognize you if you did. You’re only like, what, 19? 20? That’s pretty young for a champion. Though I guess it really doesn’t matter what age you-”

  “Hey, Melanie?” said Malcolm. “Shut up!”

  She did, for a couple of seconds. Malcolm tried to pull her over to the window to push her out next, but the teacher stepped up before he could.

  “I’m sorry,” said Melanie. “Really, I am. I don’t mean to talk so much. It’s like sometimes when I’m nervous I start talking, and just keep going, and going. I’m on the debate team. It’s my main hobby, though some of the football players told me I’m cute enough to be a cheerleader. That’s kind of a weird thing to tell someone, I think, and I don’t really know if it’s true. Plus-”

  Gunshots came from the hallway. Malcolm still had a half dozen students left, including Melanie. He felt a flash of panic as he considered what would happen if the shooter made it into the classroom while he was in the middle of helping a student to the ground.

  No choice. I have to go out there.

  “Barricade the door as soon as I leave!” he shouted. Melanie gave him an army salute. Her eyes were wet with tears, and Malcolm suddenly felt a little bad for not noticing earlier.

  CHAPTER 14

  Tapestry was laying on the hallway’s tile floor, clutching her stomach, a pool of blood spreading out underneath her body. The shooter was standing over her with menacing body language, the gun dark and metallic in his hand. Malcolm was just down the hall from them, pressed into a door well, trying to make himself into as small a target as he could.

  “Tapestry!” Malcolm shouted. “Are you okay?”

  The shooter answered the question with several gunshots in his direction. Malcolm gritted his teeth, trying to ignore both his concern for Tapestry and the ringing in his ears.

  She said that she can regenerate. I have to trust that she knows what she’s doing…

  Malcolm leaned out, feeling his fear surge as he exposed his head as a target. The shooter was fumbling around, trying to slip one gun into his pocket so he could reload the other. Malcolm thrust his hand out, summoning the wind. Before he could pull up more than a breeze, the shooter aimed and fired, proving that he still had at least one bullet left.

  “Hey! Hey!” shouted Malcolm. “Let’s just talk about this. Come on, man… This isn’t a good road to go down!”

  He tried to think of what he could possibly say to make the shooter back down. The kid had already committed to what he was doing, already opened fire on his classmates. There was no coming back from that, at least not from the perspective of a teenager.

  “They deserved it!” shouted the shooter. “You don’t know what it was like.”

  Malcolm took a slow breath, feeling his heart pounding painfully hard in his chest.

  “I don’t know,” said Malcolm. “I can’t say that I know what you’ve been through. But they can’t all deserve it, surely? Think about that for a second.”

  The shooter didn’t answer him. Malcolm took a breath, and then continued.

  “That’s my friend you have on the ground,” said Malcolm. “She’s going to die. She’s going to bleed to death. She doesn’t go to your school. She never did anything to you.”

  He doesn’t know about her regeneration. Maybe I can appeal to his emotions.

  “She’d tried to attack me,” said the shooter. “And if she’s your friend, then I can’t trust you either!”

  “You can trust me!” said Malcolm.

  “Then come out here,” said the shooter. “Come out where I can see you. And then I’ll talk to you more.”

  “I can talk to you from where I am,” said Malcolm.

  “Come out here or I’ll shoot your friend in the head,” said the shooter.

  Malcolm swore under his breath. He didn’t know if Tapestry could recover from a headshot or not, and wasn’t interested in having to find out. She was silent, probably unconscious, and that wasn’t a good sign, either.

  “Alright,” said Malcolm. “I’m… coming out.”

  This could be it. Well, I’ve lived a good, albeit short, life.

  He stepped out into the hallway. The shooter had both his guns back in hand. He wasn’t wearing a mask, or any kind of disguise. He had brown hair and darker brown eyes. He was crying, too, just like Melanie had been.

  “You’re the guy from yesterday,” said the shooter. “Wind Runner. I saw all that shit.”

  “Yeah, that’s me,” said Malcolm. “Look… I was just like you. I wasn’t any different. I just got lucky.”

  “That’s what makes you different,” said the shooter. “Some people get lucky. Some people don’t. Some people end up being monsters in the end.”

  “You aren’t a monster,” said Malcolm. He wasn’t sure if he believed it.

  “They treated me like I was one, first,” said the shooter. “You treat someone like something for long enough and that’s all they know how to be.”

  “Hey, easy,” said Malcolm. “Don’t talk like that.”

  “Sorry.”

  The shooter raised his gun and aimed it at Malcolm’s head. He watched as the shooter pulled the trigger, and reacted without thinking.

  Summoning the wind, Malcolm sent it forward in a thin, powerfully directed burst. He kept his focus on the gun, and on the bullets that were on the way out of it. He flinched as the first one exploded out, but held his focus.

  Using the force of his wind manipulation, Malcolm was able to divert the bullet off its course by a couple of inches. If he’d been closer to his target, or reacted more slowly, it wouldn’t have worked. As it was, he felt the air tearing within an inch of his head. His heart skipped a beat. The shooter pulled the trigger again, and a second bullet blasted toward him.

  Malcolm felt hot lead scrape across his cheek, tearing a thin, shallow cut into the flesh there. He threw his other hand forward in anger, slamming all the wind power he could summon into the shooter’s chest. The boy flew back against the lockers against the end of the hallway, striking with a hollow crash and dropping his guns.

  Malcolm swept them out of the shooter’s reach immediately, and then banged the kid off the ground a second time, for good measure. His head hit hard enough to knock him unconscious, and it was hard for Malcolm to care about any potential damage.

  Was this guy a monster? Or was he just a bullied kid with some guns and no sense?

  Tapestry let out a groan. Malcolm hurried over to her, setting a h
and on the wound on her stomach. It wasn’t there anymore. In the time since she’d been shot, she’d already started to heal.

  A strange, tingling sensation spread through Malcolm’s hand and into the rest of his body, almost like he’d just touched a live wire. He frowned, feeling the pain from the cut on his cheek vanish. He reached up and slid a finger over it. There was still blood there, but no more was coming out.

  “Good work… Wind Runner,” said Tapestry.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Bullets went through me,” she said. “It’s only a pain when they get stuck against a bone. Have to have surgery every now and then to get them all removed after that happens too much.”

  She cleared her throat and stood up. The shooter had obviously unloaded on her, because her shirt was in shambles. As was her bra, underneath, leaving the edge of one of her nipples poking out through the bullet holes. Malcolm chuckled and took off his sweatshirt, passing it to her.

  “You should put that on,” he said.

  Tapestry looked confused, until she looked down and saw what he saw. She blushed, and then glared at him like it was his fault. Malcolm grinned back at her.

  CHAPTER 15

  Three students suffered critical injuries, but in the end, nobody died. It was a miracle, from Malcolm’s point of view. He stood next to Tapestry as she discussed the situation with the police, impressed by how professional she was when giving them the rundown of what had happened.

  More emergency vehicles, police cars, and ambulances crowded the parking lot than Malcolm had known existed in Vanderbrook. The school had taken a complete count of all the students after the shooter had been taken into custody, slowly releasing them to their parents and legal guardians as they arrived on scene. The reunions were tearful, and watching them made Malcolm aware of how important of a role he and Tapestry had played.

  Without us, it wouldn’t have just ended there.

  Tapestry spent close to an hour speaking with the police. As soon as the conversation was finished, Malcolm heard footsteps headed their way. He flinched, still tense and high strung, but it was just Melanie, the talkative girl from earlier. She ran up to Tapestry and threw her arms around her.