Malcolm didn’t say anything. He listened, waiting for the other man to continue.
“It was way out in the middle of Nebraska,” said Melt. “Small suburban neighborhood. We got to the house, and a guy, a normal person, came out and tried to hold us back, stop us from going in.”
Melt let out a sad laugh and took another sip of gin.
“It was his daughter, the guy says. She’s not evil, just confused and scared, he says. He said he wouldn’t let us take her.”
“What did you do?” asked Malcolm.
“Knocked him out,” said Melt. “Greenthumb grew the grass on the lawn to hold him down in case he woke up. And then, we headed inside.”
Melt paused, taking a long breath. He coughed and patted his chest, fishing a cigarette out of the pack in his front pocket. Under any other circumstances, Malcolm would have stopped him from lighting it, but it was as good a distraction as the gin or their conversation.
“The girl’s mother and sister were sitting at the kitchen table,” said Melt. “Forever. They weren’t going anywhere.”
“Forever?” asked Malcolm.
“She turned them to stone,” said Melt, flashing a sardonic smile. “She turned the food to stone! They were still sitting there. They looked scared, the most perfect statues you’ve ever seen, this poor woman and this little thirteen or fourteen year old girl. Just fucking statues, stuck eating their breakfast for the rest of eternity.”
Melt took a few puffs from the cigarette.
“We went upstairs,” said Melt. “The girl was hiding in her closet. She was little, really little. Too little. She covered her eyes. Wouldn’t look at us. We couldn’t touch her. We couldn’t do anything, other than what we were there to do.”
Melt reached down to his waist. Malcolm tensed up as the other man pulled a gun out of its holster and set it on the couch next to him.
“It took all of the ammo we had,” he said, quietly. “Her skin was made of stone. We had to shoot through it, shoot until there was just a bunch of little pieces left. Rocks and dust. Probably breathed some of it in on the way out.”
“I’m… sorry,” said Malcolm.
“I don’t regret it for a second,” said Melt. “It’s what we had to do.”
Melt stood up suddenly. Malcolm tensed up, searching for something he could say to buy the last few minutes he needed for Rose to escape. Melt started walking toward his bedroom door. Malcolm got to his feet, preparing to physically throw himself in front of the doorway, if need be.
Melt walked right passed the door. He snuffed his cigarette out in the kitchen sink, turned on the faucet, and washed his face. He took a deep breath before turning around to face Malcolm again.
“Hold onto that anger, Wind Runner,” said Melt. “Never forget what that monster did to your family. You got have something to hold onto. Greenthumb’s got his hippie girlfriend and their little organic farm, maybe kids someday. Everybody’s got something for motivation.”
Malcolm resisted the urge to ask Melt what he had for motivation, suspecting that he wouldn’t get a straightforward answer. Instead, he just stayed silent. A minute or so passed by before footsteps sounded from the other side of the front door. Greenthumb came back into the apartment.
“The grass didn’t tell me much,” he said. “We’ll need to look for another lead. Did you find anything here, Melt?”
“No,” said Melt.
Greenthumb sniffed the air.
“Seriously?” he asked. “Smoking and drinking while on duty? We’ve been over this before, Melt.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Melt left the apartment. Greenthumb turned his attention back toward Malcolm, looking him over with appraising eyes.
“Here,” said Greenthumb, handing him a card. “Call me if you hear anything. You can report to your superiors at the local Champion Authority base as well, of course, but I’d like to be informed of any leads as soon as possible.”
“Sure,” said Malcolm.
“I give thanks on Melt’s behalf for your hospitality,” said Greenthumb. “He can be a volatile man sometimes, especially when his mind wanders from his duty.”
Greenthumb was smiling, but there was no cheer in it. Malcolm made eye contact with him and felt a cold chill run down his spine.
“Its fine,” said Malcolm. “He just seems a little a tired.”
“As we all are,” said Greenthumb. “There aren’t enough of us to stave off the evil we’re up against. Speaking of which, I really do think you’d make a fantastic field champion. You have the right disposition for it. I’ll put in a good word with your superiors to get the ball rolling.”
“Oh, no, that’s not-”
“I insist,” said Greenthumb. He nodded, shook Malcolm’s hand, and then left the apartment without another word.
CHAPTER 19
Malcolm spent several nervous minutes watching the door, unsure of how he’d handled the situation. Regardless of what Greenthumb had said about putting in a good word, he was sure the account given to Tapestry and Multi would include the fact that he’d inadvertently aided a spryte.
Rose was gone, and Malcolm felt conflicted. Having her at his apartment would only put both of them at risk. She wasn’t safe with him now that he was on the radar of the field champions. Still, as he checked over his room a second time, letting the overhead light illuminate the dark corners of his closet, he kind of missed her.
This was the plan. I distracted them until the sun set so that she could escape. I’ll probably never see her again.
He gave up thinking about it after a few minutes. Dinner was a rather meager affair, pasta along with some frozen sausage. He ate in front of the TV, playing video games and pausing whenever he heard the floorboards of the apartment creak, or the wind blowing at his window. He checked each time, part of him hoping that it was Rose.
Malcolm awoke the next morning to a newly familiar ritual. Tapestry was already in his apartment, and this time she pushed all the way into his bedroom, knocking only as a formality before throwing the door open.
“Wake up time,” said Tapestry. “Get dressed. Put on a nice shirt, something with a collar.”
Malcolm groaned and sat up. Tapestry was wearing jeans, a white blouse, and a long, navy button up sweater. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.
“What’s the emergency?” mumbled Malcolm. “Is it really necessary for us to start this early?”
“You have an interview with VCAX in two hours,” she said. “I’ve got to get you their early so the makeup people can do their thing.”
Malcolm groaned louder. He wasn’t interested in having more eyes on him, not after his encounter with the field champions. He was beginning to realize that being part of the Champion Authority was more tedious than he’d originally imagined.
“Fine,” said Malcolm. “Just… give me a minute.”
Tapestry waited in the living room while he changed. He pulled on a dress shirt along with a pair of tan slacks, and headed outside. She’d brought a box of donuts with her, which did wonders at buoying Malcolm’s mood.
He didn’t say much as he rode in the passenger seat of the BMW, and hoped that Tapestry would chalk it up to him still being tired. In reality, his thoughts were still centered on Rose, whether she was safe, and whether she’d risk coming back to his apartment.
It might be better if she doesn’t. It’s too dangerous, for both of us.
“Multi told me about your little night adventure,” said Tapestry. “The next time you’re planning on going crime fighting, or whatever it was that you thought you were doing, please be smarter about it.”
“That’s a little harsh,” said Malcolm.
Tapestry shrugged and smiled at him.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “But it’s as much an issue of safety for you, as it is anything. We don’t have a lot of champions in Vanderbrook, as you’ve noticed. We need to keep the ones we do have in one piece.”