First it was essential to keeping up his identity as the Gifted Vigilante. It was his calling card, and also a way of distracting the press’s attention from his true identity.
The second reason was more sentimental. It was the only thing he had left to remember his brother by, and now it was gone. As small of a comfort as it had been, it had made Malcolm feel like part of his brother was living on through him. And Tapestry had just extinguished that.
He slammed his hands up into her chest, accidentally pushing with the wind along with his arms. Tapestry was too busy being knocked off him to notice, or so Malcolm hoped. He stood up, glaring at her angrily.
“Is this really what you want to do?” snapped Malcolm. “Stand here and wrestle with me while the real bomber is-”
The bomb went off without preamble. The force of the explosion was enough to throw Malcolm forward. He slammed into Tapestry, knocking her over before continuing his tumble across the cold concrete of the alleyway.
The combination of a stunning head blow and ringing ears made it hard for Malcolm to regain his bearings in the minutes immediately following the attack. He slowly blinked his eyes, banishing away double vision.
Tapestry was staggering toward him. For a moment, Malcolm thought that she was going to make another grab at his mask, but she didn’t. She looked at him, and Malcolm realized that she was making sure that he was still alive.
He was, though several scrapes and bruises made his body ache all over. Tapestry ran off toward the epicenter of the blast. Malcolm struggled to his feet and followed after her.
The damage was insane. The government building was completely demolished, as were most of the buildings on the block. Malcolm and Tapestry had only barely been shielded from it by a truck parked in front of the alleyway, which was charred and melted on one side and untouched on the other.
Small fires burned amidst the rubble, and from within destroyed cars. The police had done what they could to evacuate the area, but Malcolm spotted at least three corpses strewn within the wreckage of the bomb, one of them too small to be a fully grown adult. Malcolm could imagine it easily: a scared child, intimidated by the police’s hurried knock, hiding under her bed or in a closet with no idea of what was to come.
Tapestry’s expression was blank, but dark emotions clouded her eyes. Malcolm felt his anger rising as well, both at Multi, for creating this mess, but at Tapestry too. She’d mistaken him for the bomber and blown their chance to save lives.
He was about to tell her as much, but held his tongue, suddenly struck by the fact that Second Wind was nowhere to be seen. Malcolm, back when he’d been Wind Runner, would never have let Tapestry charge into a situation like this on her own.
Between this and what happened the other day, something is up.
Malcolm debated staying, and making another attempt at convincing Tapestry that he was one of the good guys. There was no point, he decided. And as much as he didn’t like admitting it to himself, staring at the destruction Multi had wrought upon the city that night made him sick to his stomach.
He leapt into flight just as Tapestry turned back to look at him. She trained her gun on him, but didn’t fire as he took to the sky.
CHAPTER 20
Malcolm didn’t find Second Wind back at his apartment. The inside looked untouched since he’d been their earlier in the day. Books were still strewn across the living room floor, the kitchen counter clear of any dirty dishes or signs of someone having eaten. The loaded revolver still sat next to the bed.
Malcolm checked the bathroom for any discarded clothes or wet towels. They’d worked up a sweat fighting the Multis. Second Wind would have at least taken a shower. There was nothing there, nothing to suggest that his copy had come back and left again.
Second Wind’s phone was sitting on his desk in his room. Malcolm had noticed it earlier when he’d been inside the apartment, but it hadn’t seemed out of place. Second Wind had gotten his text about the fertilizer heist and probably just forgotten it in the rush to meet up with him.
Lacking any other good options, Malcolm picked up the phone. There were a couple of missed calls and an angry text message from Tapestry. The call log and messages had been cleared recently, preventing him from seeing who his copy had been talking to, and about what.
He tapped on the email app, wondering if there would be any clues there. It was another part of his life that his copy had inherited. Second Wind wasn’t logged into his account, but Malcolm tried his own password, and was surprised when the app accepted it without complaint.
I guess there’d be no real sense in changing it, just because I know it. I probably would have been able to guess whatever he might have changed it to, anyway.
His inbox was empty. All of the emails outside of the spam folder had been deleted, including ones that Malcolm had written long before he’d used Multi’s power. Even ones from his life before becoming a champion were gone, as though Second Wind had wanted to wipe away any trace of ever having been Malcolm.
He slowly shook his head, putting the information into place alongside Second Wind’s surly attitude, and the philosophy books on the floor. The bigger picture was clear enough. His copy didn’t want to go on being “Malcolm”, at least not in the capacity that was needed for Wind Runner to continue as a champion.
Malcolm spent half an hour thumbing through the books, trying to get a better grasp of a mind that should make perfect sense to him, but didn’t. The weeks that had passed since the last time they’d both been the same person had changed them both far more than he’d realized.
A harsh knock came at the door, jolting him out of his considerations. Malcolm reached up to his face, making sure his mask was still in place.
“Malcolm!” shouted Tapestry. “If you’re in there, open this door this instant and explain!”
Malcolm chewed his lower lip. He had a choice this time. If he wanted to, he could escape out the window. Even if Tapestry heard and ran down the hallway in time, she wouldn’t catch more than a glimpse of him in the dark.
And then she’d assume that it’s “me”, running away from her and this situation. I think “I” have done enough damage to my own reputation, for one night.
He smiled, remembering all the times in life when he’d been given the advice to “just be himself”. It was finally time to put that idea to the test.
“Give me a minute,” he called, trying to make himself sound weary. Malcolm stripped off his mask and clothing, changing into Second Wind’s clothes, instead. His copy had made some changes to his wardrobe, and he found a new pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt to throw on.
He opened the door, and Tapestry all but burst through it, jabbing a finger in his face. She had on a brown leather jacket and tight jeans, and was still covered in dust from the explosion. Her eyes were a little puffy, probably from smoke irritation, rather than tears.
“You abandoned your duty tonight, Wind Runner!” She jabbed him in the chest. “You let me, your partner, go out alone to face the enemy we’ve been hunting for weeks! I tried calling you. I knocked on your door. Where the heck were you?”
Malcolm hesitated. He didn’t want to lie to her. It made him angry to realize that he had to, and even angrier at the fact that it wasn’t even to cover for himself.
He’d better have a good fucking explanation. Just like I need to have one, right now.
“I got a tip about Multi stealing a fertilizer truck,” he said. “I followed up on it and… lost track of time.”