It was a petty thing to take offense at, but Malcolm felt it taking grip of his heart and mind, regardless. He’d only known Rose for a couple of months. He was just a fling compared to what she’d shared with Brenden and her young daughter.
“My head hurts…” said Rose. “Why… where am I? What’s going on?”
“You’re having an episode.” Shield Maiden had recovered and made her way over to Rose. “Do you remember me, Rose? I’m a spryte, like you. And a friend.”
Rose frowned, but there was more awareness for Shield Maiden in her expression than there had been for Malcolm.
“I just… want to lie down,” said Rose.
“Exactly,” said Shield Maiden. “I’ll bring you to a place where you can lie down. A safe place, one that you used to call home.”
“Rose…” Malcolm felt selfish, but he was desperate for something, anything. “Do you remember Wind Runner? Do you remember fighting with him, and occasionally against him?”
He was smiling, though it was the opposite of how he felt on the inside. Rose glanced back over at him and shook her head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I… I’m so tired.”
“I’ll take you home, Rose,” said Shield Maiden. “You can ride on the back of my motorcycle.”
Malcolm felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest and stomach, intense enough to drop him to one knee. Only then did he notice the tears streaming down his cheeks. He wiped them away quickly and cleared his throat, feeling like a fool.
“Are you okay?” asked Shield Maiden.
He forced out a chuckle, angling his face so it was more in shadow than in the light.
“Fine,” he said. “Just… take care of Rose.”
“I’ll bring her back,” said Shield Maiden. “And I’ll stop by your hideout in a day or two to let you know how she’s doing. She might remember more, you know.”
Malcolm nodded, though he knew that she was only saying so for his sake. The time he’d shared with Rose was gone, not just lost to the past, but lost in her memory. It hurt more than he’d known anything could, more than being shot, more than being electrified.
He could accept her hating him, or him falling out of her favor. But it was different for her to not know him, not to recognize his face or recall any of the times they’d lain together in bed. The kisses they’d shared, and the lengths they’d gone to when it came to protecting each other, it was all gone.
It was like having his heart ripped out. And it made him feel more alone than he knew a person could be.
CHAPTER 12
It wasn’t until Shield Maiden and Rose were almost out of sight on the motorcycle that Malcolm stopped to consider how far away he was from Vanderbrook. The highway they’d traveled on had snaked back and forth through the landscape. He could walk straight back, but, but he still had at least a solid day and night of walking ahead of him.
I never told Shield Maiden that I lost my powers. She probably just assumed that I’d fly back.
She’d left the tent, at least, not wanting to take the time to pack up and risk Rose doing something volatile. Malcolm collapsed on the ground inside of it, his heart still aching, head still pounding as though he’d been struck in the temple.
He didn’t get any sleep, and after an hour or two of nothing but his own, depressing thoughts, he couldn’t take it anymore. Malcolm packed up the tent, the fire-starting kit, and the remaining rations into one of the loose saddle bags and tossed it over his shoulder like a knapsack.
He traveled for the rest of the night, keeping the highway in sight as much as he could. His feet were tired by the time the sun rose, but Malcolm only stopped to eat a light breakfast before continuing on. Each step was a distraction, a way of keeping his mind from centering in on the fact that he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do, and yet felt more dogged by despair than ever.
It was midafternoon by the time Vanderbrook came back into sight, and nearing sunset as he approached his hideout. Malcolm felt a strange, claustrophobic sensation as he undid the combination lock and lowered himself into the musty cellar. He was right back where he’d been a few days earlier, with nothing to show for it.
Things would get better, he told himself. He’d wake up the next day and spend the morning building new game traps. He’d settle back into the familiar rhythm of surviving in Vanderbrook and wait for news from Shield Maiden. It would only be a couple days, like she said, before she’d bring him news of Rose’s condition.
But will she ever remember what she’s forgotten? I doubt it…
The despair was thick in his dusty hideout, as though he’d submerged himself into it. Malcolm massaged his forehead, collapsed onto his mattress, and tried to sleep.
***
He managed it for a while. Until someone started pounded on his hatch, angry and demanding. Malcolm sat up. For a couple of seconds, he was completely still, listening and considering the best action to take.
The safest thing to do would be to ignore it, and go back to sleep. It didn’t sound like it was Shield Maiden, and he couldn’t imagine who else would be looking for him. He was curious, and after a few seconds, he stood to his feet, listening until he was sure whoever had been knocking was walking away. Malcolm then quickly climbed the ladder, pulled the lock off, and popped up to the ground above.
Tapestry stood in a shaft of moonlight, and she looked surprised to see him, even though she was the one who’d come looking. She wore her old leather jacket over a familiar white blouse, along with a black pair of jeans. Her blonde hair was shorter than Malcolm remembered it, or was it? She had it tied up into a neat, no nonsense bun.
She didn’t say anything. A dozen different questions cycled through Malcolm’s head, and he ended up picking none of them.
“You didn’t say goodbye to me when you left,” he said.
Tapestry slowly shook her head. “No. I didn’t.”
Her tone wasn’t angry, but there was a coldness to it that he’d never experienced from her before.
“So…” said Malcolm. “How have you been?”
He was surprised at how happy he was to see her. Now that the initial shock of her being there had passed, emotion and longing surged in his chest. He doubted it was the same for her, or if it was, she was far better at keeping it contained.
“Not bad,” said Tapestry. She glanced around at the ruined warehouse, and then at the hatch Malcolm had climbed out of. “I have it nicer than you do, in the town Melanie and I settled in.”
Malcolm smiled. “Melanie…” She was Tapestry’s great granddaughter, a regular firecracker of a teenager who’d been a burgeoning video game addict the last time Malcolm had seen her. “She’s doing well, then?”
“Well enough,” said Tapestry. “There are still small pockets of safety in the country, and we found one of them.”
“And how long do you think that will last for?” Malcolm couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice as he spoke.
Tapestry narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not stupid, Malcolm. That’s why I’m here.”
She didn’t elaborate further. Malcolm wondered if this was part of her way of getting revenge on him. No, he decided. It was simpler than that. He’d broken her trust in a way that could never be forgiven.
The “trick” he and Second Wind had played on Tapestry would have left emotional scars on any woman, and that wasn’t even considering how it had come to an end. He’d let Second Wind take his place, including when it came to his relationship with Tapestry. Then, after Second Wind’s initial disappearance, Malcolm had stepped back into his own shoes, going as far as to make love to her as the man she thought both of them were.
It was as painful as it was confusing. Malcolm wanted so badly to explain what had been going on his head and the events that had led up to it. But he couldn’t go that deep with Tapestry right away. He was lucky that she was even speaking to him at all.