“Wind Runner,” he repeated. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
He waited, wondering if he could change her mind by phrasing the invitation a little differently. Tapestry’s reaction made him feel like he’d just given a love note to a teacher in grade school. Her expression was a mixture of amusement, understanding, and a gentle assertion of boundaries.
“Uh… Have a safe drive back,” he said.
“Have a nice night, Malcolm,” said Tapestry.
He got out of the car and headed into his apartment.
CHAPTER 8
Malcolm’s one bedroom apartment was cozy and simple, which had always suited him just fine. The kitchen area was small and crammed into the corner, and he didn’t have a proper dining table. He had a couch, a flat screen TV, and a PlayStation in the main room, and that was about it. There were no rugs, paintings, posters, or further decorations of any kind.
It was all paid for by the settlement he’d gotten from the insurance company after the explosion, and those funds had been running low for the past few months. Malcolm had previously been considering picking up a part time job to make ends meet, but discovering his powers and joining the Champion Authority had, as Tapestry had phrased it, changed everything.
Are they going to pay me for helping them? Or at least supply room and board, so I don’t have to keep renting?
He considered both questions along with a half dozen others as he walked around his apartment aimlessly. He was hungry, and took a slice of leftover pizza out of the fridge to eat as he made his way into his bedroom.
Like the rest of the apartment, the décor was rather Spartan. Malcolm had a bed, a desk, a dresser, and a couple of photos of his brother and mother. He’d never been a materialistic person, and never really felt as though he needed much more.
His life was, or at least had been, very simple. He took classes at the community college, came home, did his homework, played video games, and found time to eat during the time in between.
The boring and repetitive nature of his life had never bothered him, but it felt like an egregious thing to return to, now that his life had changed so drastically. Malcolm finished the pizza, knowing that he couldn’t just hang around his apartment and wait for Tapestry to show up the next day to start playing with his powers.
“If I’m going to be a champion,” he said, speaking out loud. “Does that mean… I need a costume?”
Most of the champions he’d seen on TV didn’t bother trying to conceal their identities. Malcolm knew that after the attention the media had given him earlier in the day, it was pointless for him to hope for any real anonymity. Even so, there was something appealing to him about having a costume, in the same way a soldier might take pride in a uniform, or a surgeon in their hospital scrubs.
He settled on a pair of black Adidas track pants and a grey Nike windbreaker, wondering if it would help him live up to his name. It was starting to get dark outside, and Malcolm cautiously left through his apartment’s front door, heading down the stairway he shared with his neighbors and back outside.
The neighborhood he lived in had seen better days. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood, exactly, just a little rough in spots. The house next to his apartment was abandoned, and the lawn was overgrown and speckled with beer bottles.
The park across the street was a common hangout spot for junkies and thieves. Malcolm briefly considered hanging around at the edge of it for a while and waiting for a crime to happen before tossing the idea out.
I might have superpowers, but I am far from a superhero. Probably best if I play it safe for tonight.
He considered what he could do that would be a good use of his time, and then remembered the girl from that morning. He hadn’t even gotten her name until Tapestry had shown him the Instagram post. Would it be creepy for him to head back to her house and pay her a surprise visit?
Yes. It would be.
Lacking any better options, Malcolm walked down the street as a pedestrian, headed nowhere in particular. There were a couple of old, abandoned warehouses not far from his neighborhood, on the outskirts of town, and he figured that they’d be as good of a place for him to play around with his wind manipulation as any.
The last vestiges of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon as he approached the empty concrete lot of the disused industrial park. Malcolm looked back toward the populated section of town, scanning the sidewalk to make sure that nobody was around, and then reached out for the wind.
It felt so natural, even more so than it had earlier that morning. It didn’t feel as though he was using a superpower, or really, doing anything more difficult than moving a part of his body. The wind was just an extra muscle, one that he could shift and flex as he wished.
He pulled up a powerful gust and pushed it against his chest and face, leaning into it. His hair flew back behind him, and the pressure was enough for him to trust some of his weight to, supporting enough of his body to let him shift his center of balance dangerously far forward.
It reminded him of when he’d been a kid, and had to walk into the wind on particularly windy days. Malcolm held his position where he was for a moment, and then pulled the wind behind him, instead.
With the wind at his back, he practiced the skill he’d discovered by accident that morning, the one which he’d apparently taken his name from. Wind running let him move faster than any human could, and turn on a dime, if he wanted to, the wind providing both acceleration and brake.
There were a couple of old trash cans behind one of the warehouses. Malcolm pulled them into the air and swirled them around him, wondering how much damage they’d do to someone with a direct hit.
He played with them for a few minutes, feeling a bit like a child with a new toy. He turned his attention to the wall of the warehouse, next, wondering if there was a way he could get up to the roof in lieu of using a fire escape.
Malcolm pulled at the wind with all the strength he had, testing to see if he could summon enough air power to go fully airborne and fly. It wasn’t enough, and it was a little exhausting to attempt. The sensation was a mixture of a strong head rush along with something slightly euphoric.
He glanced down at the stabilizer on his wrist, wondering if it was working like Multi had said it was supposed to. The bracelet felt heavy around his wrist and cold to the touch. It didn’t make any noise, or light up, or give any sign of serving its function.
Weird. Though, maybe it is working, and my powers still just aren’t strong enough.
He decided to try something else. Breaking into a light jog, he ran toward the warehouse, pulling the wind with him on his approach. He leapt up as he came within reach and planted a foot solidly on the building’s graffiti covered concrete wall, trying to kick off and up.
With the wind at his back, he stayed close enough to the wall of the building to kick out with his other leg and start the process over. It was like something out of a video game, wall climbing by kicking continuously. The wind pushed him up and kept him in position, and his legs did the rest.
It was the next best thing to flying, and it only took him a couple of seconds to reach the top and pull himself onto the building. Malcolm let out a satisfied sigh and sat down, taking a minute to recover. His body was tingling, and though the feeling wasn’t unpleasant, it made it a little hard for him to think straight.
A noise came from the abandoned warehouse across from the one he was on. Malcolm stood up slowly, frowning and glancing around, hoping that he wasn’t about to get ambushed by the police or a busybody night security guard. The sound was coming from within the other warehouse, and after a moment’s consideration, he leapt the distance between the two buildings with the assistance of the wind.