“Well, enough,” said Rose. “I need a doctor. And to get back to the base.”
“I’m going to take you there in a bubble,” said Shield Maiden. “It’s the most comfortable means we have available. I’ve already gotten in touch with Rion. She’s a nurse, and will be able to help.”
Rose gave a tired nod. She let out a long sigh. Malcolm met her eyes and knew that her thoughts were still on what had happened. Brenden was a loose end, and an emotionally volatile one, at that. She gestured for Malcolm to come closer to her, and he did, leaning in close enough to hear her whisper.
“My, my,” said Fantasy. “Aren’t the two of you close?”
Rose glared at her, but it was sisterly, rather than angry.
“Don’t do anything stupid until the next time you see me,” she whispered.
“It might not be for a couple of days,” said Malcolm, eyeing her wound. “And it’s not like I know how to find you when you’re in your base.”
He’d been down to “Underworld”, as Rain Dancer had called it back when he’d been in power, once before. It was a series of underground chambers hidden deep within Halter City’s labyrinthian sewer system. Malcolm wasn’t looking forward to trudging through those tunnels in search of it after his last experience down a manhole.
“Call me,” said Rose. She gave a forced smile that was clearly for his benefit and turned her attention to Shield Maiden. “I’m ready.”
Shield Maiden walked over slowly, looking quite beautiful in her fancy black gown. She extended a hand, and an instant later, a multicolored bubble encircled Rose where she lay on the bed. It lifted into the air, shifting shape slightly until it matched the profile of a hospital stretcher.
“Thank you for calling us,” said Shield Maiden.
“You should do it more often,” added Fantasy, in a musical voice. “I’m always down for a good chat.”
“Fantasy!” snapped Rose’s muted voice from within the bubble.
CHAPTER 19
The sprytes left. Malcolm locked the hatch behind them and sighed as he stood in the center of his apartment. He’d been scared, though he hadn’t admitted it to himself, of the danger that Rose had been in. Feeling it melt off his shoulders was a relief, but it left room for him to think about the implications of what she’d been through that night.
Brenden. Why the hell did he shoot her?
Malcolm wanted to kill him. Rose had been smart to make him promise that he wouldn’t do anything stupid. His urge for vengeance was deep and primal, driven by protectiveness and a need for revenge.
He forced himself to set his anger aside and turned on the TV. The local news channel was in the middle of doing a story on a series of unexplained local killings. One of the anchors suggested that the victims matched each other enough to suggest a serial killer with a certain kind of appetite.
They were all men, killed with no sign of a struggle and no external wounds. They’d all had alcohol in their system, and people interviewed in the aftermath all claimed that they’d been seen at a bar, and in some cases, been seen leaving with an attractive woman. And most of them had criminal records.
It sounded more like misguided vigilantism to Malcolm, rather than a serial killer, and he tried not to feel a personal sense of responsibility over what his own actions might have inspired. One of the anchors suddenly put a finger up to their ear, and interrupted her cohost.
“We’ve just got word of a breaking story that needs to be announced immediately, for the sake of public safety,” said the female anchor. “A bomb threat has been called in just outside the government building on Douglas Street. I repeat, there has been a bomb threat. The police have just announced an evacuation of the area.”
Malcolm felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. It was Multi’s style to call ahead and let people know about the impending terror, at least usually. Malcolm didn’t take him to be the sympathetic sort, rather, he used it as an opportunity to create more chaos, to show that even if he broadcasted his intentions in advance, he still couldn’t be stopped.
Part of him had hoped that by stopping the fertilizer heist, Multi’s bombings would be at least temporarily halted. No such luck. Malcolm pulled on his mask and hurried out into the night, wincing at the pain in his shoulder as he made his way up the ladder.
It was dark enough outside for him to forgo stealth. He used his wind manipulation to soar through the air, wind cold against his face and roaring in his ears. It was a cloudy night, so he flew just above the low skyline, maintaining visual contact with Vanderbrook below.
Malcolm landed on the slanted roof of a museum half a block down from the government building. He dropped to his stomach, reducing his profile as much as he could whilst peering out into the night.
He first tried wind listening, but there were still too many noises for him to pick up any useful information. He did notice that the government building had no discernable police presence. He smiled wryly at that.
The police hunt me, but are terrified of Multi. Being a good guy has no perks.
Malcolm had one other trick up his sleeve that he’d been toying with for the past week. He took a deep breath, entering the same state he’d normally use for wind listening, but instead focused on his secondary power, instead.
He didn’t use his heat manipulation actively, but rather, used it to sense any and all nearby sources of heat. It was as though someone had pulled thermal goggles down over his eyes. Each of the streetlights gave off tiny little red halos of heat, and he could see figures in the street and in buildings through their fuzzy red auras.
Malcolm searched for anyone who seemed to be out of place, eventually settling on the shape of a person who was slowly approaching the government building from an alleyway. He rose to his feet and pushed off into the air, moving toward the suspicious pedestrian. He landed within striking range, just behind them.
Tapestry whirled on him, swinging her pistol to point at his head. Malcolm froze. He’d been expecting Tapestry and Second Wind to appear as a group of two. On her own, without Malcolm’s copy to subtly run interference, there was no telling what she might do. She could very well decide to pull the trigger and be rid of him.
“I should have known that you were involved with this,” she said, her voice trembling with anger.
“I’m here for the same reason you are,” said Malcolm, throwing his voice. “The bomb threat. We need to work together.”
He tried to take a step back. Tapestry immediately moved forward, keeping the gun where it was.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said. “I don’t buy it.”
Malcolm scowled.
I don’t have time for this!
“If we don’t work together, people will die!” he hissed. “The bomb could go off at any time. We need to spread out and search the area.”
“And you could be the bomber,” said Tapestry. “That seems just as likely as-“
Malcolm threw caution to the wind, spinning with wind assisted speed and knocking Tapestry’s pistol loose from her hand. She gasped, but didn’t hesitate, immediately tackling him before he could take to the air.
They fell to the ground in a tangled heap. Tapestry made a move as though to grab Malcolm’s mask. His hands went to it, ready to pull it back down, but as he did, he exposed his torso. Tapestry responded with several fast jabs, which landed on his ribs and stomach.
“You’re being an idiot!” Malcolm shouted. He reached out and seized Tapestry’s wrist, and felt the familiar tingling of absorbing the power of another champion.
In that moment, the fight went out of him. Malcolm had kept his heat manipulation for the past few weeks, keeping his power mimicry in check around Rose to keep from accidentally absorbing her powers. He’d done it for two reasons.