The wind carrying him briefly faltered. Mardon refocused his concentration. For the first time, he realized he still wore the damned helmet. Now bereft of any power, the helmet proved very simple to remove. Mardon watched with pleasure as it plummeted from sight, but then the wind faltered once more, dropping him several feet before he recovered.
Easy, Mark! came Clyde’s voice. You don’t want to splatter all over the prison!
He had to get to safety and rest. Once rested, he could concentrate on taking out the Flash and the detective. Clyde would understand…
Memory more than consciousness guided the Weather Wizard through the storm toward where he knew he could hide until he regained his strength. Mardon barely heard the thunderous din as he neared the old house that he and Clyde had used during their careers as bank robbers. It was actually one of three they had used and one he knew the cops had never located.
Below, Central City had become a murky shadow of itself. Sirens blared everywhere. Through his exhaustion the Weather Wizard grinned. Small wonder the Flash had not shown up. The storm had served Mardon well even when he had not been in control of it. It was almost as if his brother had sent it to watch over him—
The wind faltered and this time didn’t immediately recover. Mardon dropped several yards before a weaker version of the wind managed to at least slow his descent. Rain that had previously avoided him thanks to his ability to bend its path away suddenly drenched the escaped rogue. Mardon knew that he had reached his end quicker than he had imagined. Between fighting the device and destroying his cell and part of the prison, the Weather Wizard had burned himself out.
He could see the outline of the old house, but now he was descending too fast again. Mardon tried his best to concentrate as the ground rushed up at him.
He hit it standing up, but his legs immediately buckled. Mardon collapsed, falling face first onto a drenched street.
The great Weather Wizard! Clyde’s voice echoed. Geez, Mark! Pull yourself together! You can’t lie there!
“You—you could at least give me a hand,” Mardon growled as he fought to push himself up. “Easy—easy to—to bitch when you’re dead!”
“You want a hand,” responded someone behind him. “All you got to do is ask, Mark.” Strong hands pulled him up not only from the street, but into the air again.
The Weather Wizard shook his head in a failed attempt to clear it. He knew he couldn’t have heard what he heard… and yet… “Clyde?”
As he drifted through the air to a broken window on the second floor, the voice added, “We’re home, brother. Time to get some rest. Time to plan revenge, eh?”
2
Sometimes, being the fastest man alive still did not seem fast enough to Barry. Each time he thought he’d finished rescuing those trapped in some manner by the wild storm, another crisis arose. Sometimes it felt as if the storm itself battled against him, foolish as that sounded. Even though it had been merely hours ago, the Flash had already begun to miss battling Snapshot. Fighting another metahuman was a task far more straightforward than dealing with nature. Of course, nature really had nothing against him nor had some nefarious plan in mind. It just was.
He raced along the overflowing river, piling sandbag after sandbag at the breach until the raging water was forced back. From there, he rescued a woman whose car had gone skidding off a bridge. The Flash left her with some grateful if startled firemen working on a warehouse set ablaze by lightning, then raced around and around the flames, using his speed to create a wind in his wake that drew the pouring rain behind him. The constant drench of water put out the fire in seconds.
The same forces that had granted him his super speed had also enhanced his stamina, but there were still limits. The Flash paused under an overhang from a building, perfectly dry despite the hours in the rain. His crimson suit had been designed to eliminate drag in all its forms as much as possible. The material was not only water resistant, but with his swiftness what few drops managed to touch it quickly slid away.
“I hope Iris will understand why I’m not back just yet,” he muttered, seemingly to himself. In point of fact, someone at the lab generally monitored him at all times, but communication was kept to quieter times, not the madness through which he had raced for the past hour. When no one answered, the Flash asked, “Hey, Cisco! Are you on break?”
“Sorry!” came Cisco’s weary voice. “Guess there’s only so much ten gallons of coffee and a case of energy drinks can do! What’d you say?”
“Iris! Has she called since she left the lab a couple of hours ago?”
“No, she’s not called. She’ll understand. Listen, I—hold on!” Cisco’s voice faded away, only to return a moment later. “Barry, Joe’s just called in! You need to get over to Iron Heights fast! There’s been a power outage and a lot of damage! Looks like lightning hit the system—”
“On my way!” By the time he answered, the Flash had already covered more than half the distance to the prison, despite being on the other side of the city. Of all the possible disasters the storm could have offered, damage to Iron Heights was one of the worst he could imagine. More than a few of those incarcerated there had the Flash to thank for their prison terms, especially among the metahumans.
The streets became a blur as he picked up the pace. The Flash bypassed cars as if they were standing still. He paused long enough to grab a jaywalker more concerned about the rain than looking both ways and set the man back on the sidewalk just in time to avoid being hit by the emergency truck racing in the very direction the speedster headed. Barry took a deep breath and finished the last few miles in just over a heartbeat.
Fire raged from further inside the massive structure as the Flash entered the grounds. Several policemen and prison guards ran toward the nearest building as a fire crew got ready to douse a burning guardhouse.
Detective Joe West leaned on a squad car, talking into the radio and gesturing at the main facility.
“I’m here, Joe.”
The detective flinched. Generally, Joe was one of the few so used to Barry that he was now rarely startled by the Flash’s abrupt appearances, which revealed to the speedster just how frantic the situation overtaking the prison had to be.
“We’ve got fire, an explosion, and several loose prisoners,” Joe snarled. “You can see which wing got the worst of it.”
The Flash nodded. “Is that where—”
Gunshots cut through the din from the storm. Barry didn’t even hesitate, racing toward the sounds.
Two policemen hid behind the side of another car, weapons directed at the nearest building. The Flash caught a glimpse of a pair of convicts secreted by a damaged metal door. He could also make out a third figure next to one of the convicts: a guard whose arms had been bound.
One of the convicts raised a gun the Flash could only assume had been taken from the guard. The convict looked very comfortable with the weapon, which Barry believed meant he was probably an expert shot.
Of course, it hardly mattered. Barely had the convict acted than the Flash seized both the gun and the guard and carried them back to the police. After handing the weapon to one officer and the stunned but relieved guard to the second, the Flash eyed an item on the belt of each lawman.
“Mind if I use those?”
They had hardly even started to nod before he took what he needed and raced back to the two escapees. The Flash seized the still raised arm of the would-be shooter, pulled it and the other arm behind the convict, and bound the limbs with a restraint. He then did the same to the second convict, who had just begun to notice that the hostage had vanished.
Leaving both prisoners bound and seated, the Flash returned to the policemen.
“They’re all set for you!” With a slight salute and a grin, Barry headed back to Joe.
“Sorry for the brief interruption,” he said.
“I’ve got an idea what you just did, so don’t apologize. Besides, you’ve got troubles enough coming. There’s been a breac
h in the metahuman section all right. One prisoner escaped.”
“That’s better than I feared.”
Joe West made a sour face. “No it isn’t. It’s Mark Mardon… and they say a lot of this damage is all from him.”
* * *
“You didn’t tell him about the change you noticed in the storm over the past couple hours,” H.R. pointed out as Cisco cut off communications with the Flash. The news about Mardon had put a slight damper on their celebration after dealing with Snapshot. Mardon was a metahuman of another level.
“It’s not important right now. Barry’s got enough going on. Besides, it may or may not have anything to do with Mardon. It doesn’t fit the data we have on him. I mean, there are similarities in the readings, but also enough anomalies that you could argue either way—”
“I guess I got more excited about catching Snapshot than I thought.”
Caitlin put a hand to her head. “I need an aspirin.”
“I already gave you two,” H.R. reminded her.
Caitlin picked up the cup of water he had also grabbed for her after handing over the aspirin. She swallowed what was left, then cleared her throat. “He’s probably correct, H.R. This storm has been raging for a while. Cisco, you said you got into the Iron Heights system and everything was fine at the time, right?”
“Yeah. Running perfectly.”
“Then the storm’s probably just a normal if violent one. Not everything has to do with dangerous metahumans,” she added. “Sometimes rain is just rain.”
H.R. nodded. “Now if we could just make it go away and come back some other day, like next time it reaches a hundred degrees.”
Cisco put a hand to the earpiece connected to the police reports and Barry’s communications. “Updates coming in about the escape. Sounds like Iron Heights has some heavy damage, but it’s confined to one area.” He swiveled away from Caitlin. “Hey, Barry. Can you get close to Mardon’s cell? Is there a chance yet?”
H.R. leaned down to try to hear Barry’s response. As he did, he glanced one last time at Caitlin, who seemed to be mesmerized by her empty cup. H.R. frowned, then focused on the Flash.
* * *
Why could they have not just listened to her and moved on right away, Caitlin thought with sudden bitterness. H.R. could be maddening at times and Cisco was maybe one of the densest people she knew. Sometimes Caitlin wondered how she even put up with them—
What are you thinking? she reprimanded herself. H.R. is always trying his best to be nice and helpful to you, and Cisco… and without Cisco where would you be right now?
Where would you be?
Caitlin reached down and gently touched the odd, thick bracelet on her other wrist. She remembered when Cisco had first given it to her. Wear it always, he had quietly told her. Wear it always and be safe.
At the time, she had been pretty skeptical. However, since she had been wearing the bracelet, she had not had any bouts. Not, that is, until this storm had begun.
“Caitlin?” Cisco called. “Can you monitor that?”
She realized that he had been talking for several seconds. “I’m sorry. What did you want?”
He looked apologetic. “I need you to watch Barry’s readings while I try to match them with the storm’s fluctuations. I want to make certain that there’s no connection between him and this weather.”
“Why would there be?”
“I’m sorry. I know we just discussed it, but something’s tied to this storm, something I can’t help feeling is metahuman. I’m sure of that.”
“But wouldn’t Mardon make more sense?” interjected H.R. “I mean, being the Weather Wizard and all that… and escaping just now too.” He cocked his head. “Just saying.”
Cisco tapped his screen. “That would make sense, but the pattern doesn’t fit his readings at all.”
Caitlin felt her irrational irritation stirring again. Fighting it, she straightened. “All right. I don’t think you’ll find anything, but let’s try.” She suddenly hesitated. “Does Barry know we’re doing this?”
“I don’t think there’s reason to mention anything yet. Barry’s a little busy at the moment.” Cisco checked his earpiece. “Yeah, just a little… We’ll tell him when things calm down… and if we even find anything.”
* * *
Speed was not everything. Barry had learned that early on. If speed alone had controlled his life, for instance, the Flash would have already been well into his search for Mardon. Of course, even then, all the speed in the world didn’t matter if he had no idea where to look. Clyde Mardon had been a creature of the moment; his brother Mark was far more of a planner. Mark Mardon would not be found anywhere obvious.
Meanwhile, what the storm and the Weather Wizard had wrought also demanded more from the Flash than simply speed. He had managed to douse more than a dozen fires and capture nearly twice that many escapees, but now the remaining convicts unaccounted for had secreted themselves away. Of course, Barry had the advantage in that the escaped prisoners had not had time to get very far. As the Flash, all he had to do was race repeatedly around the vicinity of the prison, trying to measure out the greatest distance any of the felons could have gotten before he arrived. Then, one by one, he narrowed down the places the escapees could hide and dragged each back to Iron Heights.
All the while the storm continued its relentless attack. The Flash kept to a run, the better to evade its effects. He circled Iron Heights for the two-hundredth time before stopping by Joe again. Unfortunately, it was to discover the detective on his personal phone. That meant only two people calling… and Barry doubted he could be so lucky as for it to be Wally on the other end.
“Now just relax, honey,” Joe said in his most fatherly voice. “Yes, it was the metahuman section, but that’s not important. I’m all right. We’re all right. Barry’s with me even now—”
The Flash made a warning sign, but it was already too late.
“You want to talk with him?” The detective looked relieved to find any excuse to end the conversation. “Great! Here you go!”
“Joe…” Barry began.
“Take it!” Joe whispered desperately. “She may listen to you!”
The Flash reluctantly took the phone. The moment he put it to his ear, he regretted it.
“Barry? Barry! I heard from a friend in the department about Iron Heights and the Weather Wizard! The Weather Wizard! I told my father he can’t just stand out there! Mardon nearly killed him once before and swore he’d do so next time he ever had another chance. I don’t want him to get another chance. You promised me my father would be utterly safe—”
“Easy, Iris…” the Flash began.
“Did you or did you not promise me more than once that my father would be safe from the likes of Mardon? Didn’t you promise me that Mardon could never escape Iron Heights?”
“Well, I did, but—”
“No. Listen to me! I’ve had too much time to think about this! If it isn’t Mardon, it’s one of those other monsters. There’s a metahuman around every corner. I just won’t stand for it anymore.”
A siren went off. With a tremendous look of guilt, Barry said into the phone, “I’ve got to go, Iris! We’ll talk, I promise. Here’s your father again.”
“No! What’re you doing—” Joe West had no choice but to take the cell phone thrust at him. “Iris, dear! Listen—”
By that time, the Flash had long raced off. He headed toward the siren, both relieved and concerned about the call. Barry had promised her that her father would be safe from all these metahuman threats, and yet the threats kept coming in worse and worse forms.
And then there was always Mark Mardon. He had come too close to killing Joe once before, and he had made it very clear after his capture that her father’s death remained one of his greatest desires. It had taken Joe and Barry weeks to convince Iris that the Weather Wizard would be going nowhere, that Iron Heights prison had him properly secured.
The siren turned out not to have
anything to do with the escaped prisoners, but rather with the damage the storm and Mardon had caused the facility. Already overtaxed by lightning strikes, both natural and not, the power grid for the penitentiary had finally begun to collapse completely. All around the speedster, the power flickered madly. The Flash realized that if the system ceased functioning a new round of dangers would be unleashed, including more potential escapes by metahuman convicts.
Barry halted in front of a fire captain.
“How bad is it?” After gaping for a moment at the figure who had seemingly materialized out of thin air, the senior firefighter answered. “It’s very bad! They need to transfer over to the auxiliary system, but the damage means we need to get the wiring between the two reconfigured.”
“Do you know how it needs to be set?”
“We’ve got a call in to the engineers. We’re waiting back.”
The Flash thought for a moment. “Excuse me.”
He darted over to a spot far enough away for no one to hear. “Cisco, did you hear that?” Silence. “Cisco?”
“Go ahead!”
Barry quickly explained, then added, “It needs to be done quick! Can you call up the—”
“Already have! I may not be the fastest man alive, but I’m pretty damned quick, if I do say so myself!” Cisco quipped. “Just had to dig through a few security walls. These people really need to upgrade… although I’m glad they didn’t do it just yet.”
“So tell me what you can do.”
“Lemme see. Lemme see.” A pause. “Got it. This looks familiar… Yeah… this is based on S.T.A.R. Labs work! Some of mine, in fact. You know—”
The Flash heard a crackle of electricity from the prison electrical system. “Cisco! I think we just ran out of time!”
“Okay, ready when you are… but be careful: there’s enough power there to fry you to ash!”
Barry braced himself. “Yeah, I kind of figured that.”
The Flash raced into the madness. He dodged random bursts of electricity as he neared the system. Ahead stood the arrays.
“Give it to me, Cisco!”
The Flash Page 3