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 hand 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.
“I was so worried!” cried Melanie. “Just let the police handle it next time! It’s their job! It’s what they do! They have body armor, and guns, and negotiators, and riot shields, and, and…”
“And I can regenerate from any injury,” said Tapestry. “I think I have them beat.”
Melanie laughed and gave her another squeeze. Malcolm raised an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between them. He remembered what Tapestry had said about how someone she cared about went to the school.
“Are you two sisters, or something?” he asked.
Both girls looked at each other, hesitant and awkward.
“Something like that,” said Tapestry. “Malcolm, this is Melanie. Melanie, this is Malcolm, or as he’s known in the press, Wind Runner.”
“I met him already upstairs.” Melanie smiled, which made her face seem even more freckled. “It’s so nice to meet you officially, Malcolm. I guess you’ll be Aubrey’s partner from now on, huh? You better keep her safe. She takes way too many risks. I’ve told her so many times before to be more careful!”
“Aubrey?” Malcolm glanced at Tapestry. “That’s your… real name?”
Tapestry gave a small nod. He’d never asked her before what her real name was and she’d never offered him it. Malcolm wondered if it was because of how overwhelmed he’d been with his own changes, or perhaps to a bit of secrecy on Tapestry’s part.
“Keep calling me Tapestry,” she said. “I like to keep my work separate from my home life, when I can.”
Malcolm shrugged. Tapestry was looking at his face, and after a second, she reached out and touched the scratch from the bullet.
“You’re wounded,” she said. “You should get someone to take a look at that.”
“It’s fine,” he said.
It’s more than just fine. It’s just a scab, now. Injuries aren’t supposed to heal that fast normally.