The robber was facing the other way, and didn’t notice the noise. Malcolm grinned, feeling a bit like a child playing a practical joke. He lashed out with the wind and stripped the pistol from the man’s hand. The robber turned around, face horrified. Malcolm winked at him.
“Oh, too bad,” he said. “And now, it’s my turn to be one who-”
He cut off in midsentence as Tapestry charged into the room behind the gunman, tackling him to the ground.
I do all the heavy lifting, and she gets the reward. Not fair.
Malcolm quickly helped the remaining employee out the window and then hurried to Tapestry’s aid. She was about half the size of the man, but already had him in some kind of wrestling submission hold, with enough energy left over to flash a smile at Malcolm.
“I disarmed the other one, but he took off down the street,” she said. “He was headed north. Think you can catch up with him?”
Malcolm smiled back at her.
“Oh, I think so,” he said. “You’ve got this guy handled?”
Tapestry twisted, pulling at one of the robber’s arms. The man was easily six feet tall, two hundred pounds, and let out a squeal that would have seemed dramatic coming from a little girl.
“I’m good,” she said.
CHAPTER 2
Malcolm burst out the same window he’d come in through, twisting into a slow front flip for the benefit of the gathering crowd below before landing in the street. He oriented himself so that he was headed north and took off with easy, wind assisted steps, each one covering at least twenty feet.
It was a minute or two before he found his quarry. The bank robber was wearing a sweatshirt with the hood up, but still stood out from the regular pedestrians. He glanced over his shoulder at Malcolm and split off into an alleyway.
As though that’s going to help him escape…
Malcolm didn’t run, instead standing in the alley and waiting for the man to pass by a couple of metal trash cans. He pushed at them with the wind, knocking one of them in front of the robber who tripped with a loud, metal crash.
“Ow!” screamed the man. “You fucking asshole!”
Malcolm stopped in his tracks. The voice was familiar, and the sound of it was enough to make him completely forget what he was supposed to be doing.
“…Danny?” Malcolm drew in closer. The man was pulling himself to his feet. The gust of wind had blown his hood loose, and Malcolm made eye contact with him as he turned to look in his direction.
It wasn’t Danny. The face was all wrong, and the man’s hair was blond. Malcolm just stared at him, still taken aback by how similar his voice was to his older brother’s. But that’s all it was, a similarity, nothing more. Two people could have similar voices without it being anything more than coincidence.
The man took off down the alleyway, sprinting at top speed and letting out rough, undignified gasps. Malcolm took a step after him, and then hesitated. He stood there, not moving for ten seconds, and then twenty.
What the hell am I doing? Am I just going to let that guy go?
He didn’t have an answer, and that was an answer of its own. Malcolm ran a hand through his hair and leaned his back against the side of the brick building closest to him. He thought about the last time he’d seen his older brother, and about their fight. About how he, in the end, had been forced to destroy Danny, after he’d turned into a demon from abusing his powers.
He let his fingers toy with the metal stabilizer on his arm. It was a “gift” from his boss at the Champion Authority, supposedly to help him balance his powers in a way that would let him use them more effectively.
Rose, an occasional lover of his and a spryte with good information on the subject, had told him the truth. The stabilizers were devices of control, armed with homing beacons and powerful explosives. They were the last resort in the case of a champion losing control, going rogue from abusing their powers.
Malcolm walked back to the bank after a couple of minutes, still lost in his thoughts. The police had finally arrived, and a small crowd had formed just beyond the yellow tape they’d set up around the entrance. Malcolm launched himself into a wind assisted jump, coming down right next to Tapestry and the police officer in charge.
The officer started slightly at Malcolm’s sudden appearance. Tapestry just raised an eyebrow at him. Her blonde hair was tied back into the usual pony tail, and she wore jeans and a very unassuming maroon sweater.
“Where is he?” she asked.
“He… managed to get away,” said Malcolm. “I’m not really sure how.”
It was the truth, in a manner of speaking. It wasn’t as though Malcolm had intended to let the man go. He’d just suddenly lost interest in chasing him.
Yeah, that’s it. Just a fluke.
“Seriously?” Tapestry’s expression scrunched up a little.
She was a petite woman, but full of energy and emotion, while still having a maturity level befitting her age. Malcolm was one of the few people who knew how old Tapestry really was, though he’d had the good sense to find out second hand, rather than asking her directly.
“Yeah, seriously,” said Malcolm. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Well… alright then.” Tapestry shrugged. She looked disappointed in him, and that stung. Malcolm chewed his lip, turning his attention toward the awaiting crowd and giving them a small wave.
In Vanderbrook, champions were something of a novelty. Most major cities in the world had at least a few dozen champions, enough so that people became used to them after a while. Vanderbrook only had two, Malcolm, or Wind Runner as he was known in the media, and Tapestry.
Tapestry liked her privacy, and for the most part, the media gave it to her. Her power, bodily regeneration, didn’t lend itself to flashy displays that inspired the imagination. Malcolm, on the other hand, had practically become the town’s golden boy overnight.
They spent about an hour at the scene of the bank robbery, both of them playing to their strengths. Tapestry spoke with the police and gave a detailed account of what had happened. Malcolm joked around with the crowd, taking selfies, signing autographs, and even getting a few kisses on the cheek from a couple of bachelorettes.
What would Danny think if he could see me now?
He tried to keep his thoughts off his deceased brother, but it was hard, especially after letting his memories trip him up during the chase. Malcolm was more than ready to head home when Tapestry finally finished her police debriefing. He fell in step alongside her as they walked toward where she’d left her BMW in an emergency parking spot outside the bank.
“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” she asked, as they climbed into the car.
“Nothing happened,” said Malcolm. “The guy just… got away.”
“Nobody gets away from you, Malcolm,” said Tapestry. “Not on foot. Heck, not usually even in a car.”
Malcolm smiled, flattered by her words and amused by her reluctance to swear.
“Sorry,” he said. “I guess I messed up this time.”
Tapestry started the car, but waited instead of pulling out into the street. She looked over at him, her emerald eyes full of concern.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, of course,” he said. “I’m fine. I’m just tired.”
Tapestry set her hand on his shoulder.
“How about you come over let me cook for you tonight?” she asked. “Melanie’s been dying to see you again, and I’d love to have an extra set of taste buds to show off for.”
Malcolm considered it. Melanie was Tapestry’s great granddaughter and best friend. She was very peppy, and could dominate conversations like nobody else.