* * *
Steaming cup in hand, H.R. departed the main lab. The silence in the hall made him pause for a moment.
“This place can get much too creepy,” he whispered to himself. “We need to channel some music here. Really cheerful music.”
He peered down to the doorway of the room where Caitlin was supposed to be, noting that what little of the interior he could see through the glass entrance was dark. Indeed, when H.R. got to the room, it was to see not only that there was no light on inside, but that Caitlin was obviously not within.
“Hmm.” H.R. looked at the various entrances around him. None gave any hint that Caitlin was in one of the nearby rooms.
He started to call out, then thought better of it. Keeping the cup balanced, H.R. walked down the hall. As he did, he eyed each doorway for some hint of Caitlin’s presence.
H.R. had gone some distance when he felt an odd coolness in the air. Stepping close to an air vent, he reached up.
“Hmm.” There was no cold air blowing, but this part of the corridor was noticeably cooler than near the main lab. “Not good.”
He considered going back to Cisco, but then remembered what Cisco had said about Caitlin’s readings. Shrugging, H.R. continued searching the rooms.
As he reached the far end, he heard a slight sound within. He paused to listen, but it didn’t repeat itself. After some consideration, H.R. reached for the handle… only to hesitate when he realized that he could see his own breath.
“Must be the air conditioning. Must be. Sure.” Without thinking, he took a sip of the coffee, then tried the door. H.R. was not encouraged by the fact that the handle felt very cold. This did not fit with how Cisco had described matters.
An even chillier wave of air washed over him as he entered. His breath now came out in stronger and stronger puffs of fog. His skin had goosebumps, although not all of them were due to the cold. Despite having heard a sound, H.R. found the room as dark as the rest. He shut the door carefully behind him and moved deeper into the office.
H.R. had taken just a few steps farther when he heard the quiet breathing. At first, the regularity of the breathing made it sound as if whoever was inside were asleep, but then H.R. heard very slight mumbling.
“Caitlin?” He remembered the last time he had found her. “Are you all right? Tell me you’re all right!”
The mumbling increased for a moment, then softened to previous levels.
“Cisco and I thought you might like a nice, warm coffee right about now,” he commented soothingly. “Wouldn’t that be great? Got one right with me. Care for a sip?”
He still received no answer. The mumbling continued its unnerving rhythm.
Listening closely, H.R. located the area where it had to come from. He started to reach for the light switches, but hesitated.
“Caitlin? What say we turn on a little light? Would you like that? I know I would!”
Still no answer. H.R. bit his lip, then turned on those lights farthest from where he believed Caitlin might be.
There was no change in the mumbling. H.R. exhaled, then headed toward the voice.
With every step, the air felt colder, sharper. H.R. nearly lost his footing at one point, belatedly discovering a patch of ice created by water spilled from a small cardboard cup lying nearby.
“Well, maybe you don’t want anything to drink after all,” he went on, trying to keep his voice level. In his mind, he noted Cisco had clearly either misread Caitlin’s vitals or there was a glitch in the device itself.
Either way it really doesn’t matter much, does it? You’re here, H.R., and that’s what truly matters. You’re the one who has to decide now what the next step is…
There was a slight movement. H.R. almost turned about, but thought better of it. He slowly came around a table to where he felt certain Caitlin had to be.
“Oh, dear…”
Caitlin sat with her legs crossed and arms clutching her body. She rocked back and forth, her gaze fixated on the empty air ahead. She continued to mumble something H.R. couldn’t make out. Frost covered her immediate surroundings, including portions of her.
Even all that didn’t bother him as much as two other things. The first was a streak of white in her hair, a streak he could swear was slowly spreading before his very eyes. The second was a less obvious change, unless one knew Caitlin. That was the smile she wore as she rocked and muttered. The smile with an edge to it that sent an emotional chill down his spine to match the physical one he also felt standing so near her.
“Killer Frost,” he whispered, “and not by choice, it looks.”
Caitlin stirred. She slowly turned her unblinking gaze to him. As she did, her arm shifted and he caught a glimpse of her wrist. Cisco’s invention blinked weakly through a layer of ice that appeared to have formed out of thin air.
Caitlin continued to stare at him, and H.R. offered her the best smile he could muster. Her own smile remained fixed.
“Hi… Caitlin. I brought some coffee.” He offered the cup. “Why don’t you stand up and have some? It’ll do you some good, I promise.”
She looked at the cup as if not certain what it was. Her brow wrinkled in a clear attempt at thought.
“I made it the way you like it.” H.R. could not recall at that moment just exactly how Caitlin liked her coffee or whether he had actually done as he had said. All that mattered was that the cup seemed to have attracted her attention.
“Hurry. While it’s still hot. Take it.”
“Coffee,” she muttered. “Coffee.”
“Yep! You want some?” H.R. steered the cup closer to Caitlin’s hand. He placed the still-hot cup in his palm and turned the handle toward her. “Go on.”
Caitlin slowly reached for it. As her fingers wrapped around the handle, her expression softened. She looked at the mug as if it were the oddest thing that she had seen in her life.
“I’m cold,” she said just before sipping.
Trying to ignore the burning pain in his palm, H.R. nodded. “Yeah, it is a bit nippy. Keep drinking. You’ll warm up just nicely. Go ahead!”
She did as he said. At the same time, the streak in her hair began to fade away. H.R. noticed the office also begin to feel warmer. Around him, the frost faded away, the last of it the layer over Cisco’s creation.
“That’s better,” Caitlin said as she neared the bottom of the cup. “Thank you.”
“How are you feeling?”
She took another sip. “It’s improving rapidly, but that’s not exactly what you want to ask me, is it? Go ahead. I’ll answer as best I can.”
After a moment’s hesitation, H.R. leaned against a desk. “This was a bad one, Caitlin. You weren’t in control.”
“I know. I actually felt it coming on, so I stepped away. I knew I could handle it better if I could concentrate… At least, that was my thinking at the time.”
“‘Handle it’? Caitlin, you should’ve seen yourself! This wasn’t anything at all like last time—”
Caitlin cradled the cup. “I know. It surged strong when we were keeping tabs on Barry… I came in here to do some breathing exercises I’d learned. I’d nearly finished when you came in.”
“To be frank, it didn’t look like it.”
She held up the wrist wearing the device. “Look. It’s acting perfectly fine. I just need to make one more slight adjustment.” Caitlin frowned. “Does Cisco know?”
“He’s been pretty busy,” H.R. remarked. “I couldn’t say everything he knows.”
“He’d probably have said something to me.” Caitlin worked with the device. “This should do it. I was too tentative when I adjusted it last time. Cisco told me what to do, but I only made a slight increase. I’ve corrected for that. Since the machine didn’t report anything troublesome to him this time, either, we clearly don’t need to worry him.”
H.R. had a sense of déjà vu. He now regretted some of his last decisions and suggestions where Caitlin was concerned. “Uh, do you—”
&
nbsp; “How’s Barry doing?”
“Hmm? He’s good. His levels were going down again, but they flattened off once the fight ended.”
Caitlin’s face screwed up in thought. “That’s happened more than once! Somehow it’s tied into what the Weather Wizard is doing. Mardon can manipulate all the energies in the weather because of his metahuman abilities. I wonder if he’s managed to draw Barry’s energies in the process.”
“I don’t like the sound of that. Is it possible? I mean, it does seem similar to something Cisco was saying.”
“He probably saw it in the data. We’ve only scratched the surface when it comes to understanding what happened then. The diversity of abilities given to those affected. Why some gained greater powers than others. Why more gained no known powers at all. I doubt we’ll find out everything in our lifetimes.”
She seems as if all that frost stuff never happened, H.R. marveled. She’s back to being… Caitlin. He wasn’t certain how to take that. H.R. knew very well that he was often out of his element when it came to what the others had to deal with. He was not Harrison Wells, scientist. He was Harrison Wells, fraud, who had been given a chance of a reprieve for his past misdeeds by people who had once been friends of his counterparts from other Earths. Despite his often-confident demeanor, H.R. actually felt he did not deserve any true voice in these matters. Caitlin and Cisco certainly knew better what needed to be done when dealing with the idiosyncrasies of the metahuman situation. Besides, he knew that Caitlin remained unaware of Cisco’s growing suspicions about her health.
Cisco’ll be on top of it, H.R. told himself. He’ll make certain. Everything will be fine.
Caitlin suddenly looked around. “How long have I been here? I’ve lost track of time.”
H.R. told her. Caitlin didn’t even bat an eye.
“I must have dozed off. This storm has kept me awake a lot.”
Not knowing what else to say, he replied, “Yeah, I think it’s hit all of us.”
“We’d better get back to Cisco! I need to tell him some of my ideas.”
She rushed past H.R., exiting the room before he could gather his wits. H.R. shook his head, then quickly followed after.
8
Mark Mardon slumped against the wall. He felt as if he had not slept in weeks. That sensation was made worse by the fact that he had not accomplished what he had set out to do. He was close, of that he was certain, but close still meant nothing if he didn’t manage to push things to their needed conclusion.
Something his brother was more than willing to point out as well.
“All that splashing! All that noise! What did it all amount to? Nothing, Mark!”
The Weather Wizard managed to nod. As usual, Clyde echoed his own self-recriminations. “I know. I know. We almost had it though, I swear! I could feel it…”
“You could feel it… but I still can’t feel anything but regret, bro. I’m still dead and isn’t that all that matters?”
“Yeah.” Mark’s heart had not slowed down since his fight with the Flash. He continued to try to draw enough air into his lungs in the hopes that doing so would help his heart return to normal. “Yeah, that and… and…”
Clyde abruptly hovered over him. “Go ahead. Say it, Mark. Say the other thing that I need done… and that isn’t yet.”
The Weather Wizard could hardly deny him, especially considering that other failure burned inside almost as much as not having brought his brother back. “I’ll get both of them next time. I will.”
“You will?” Clyde’s growing fury matched the older brother’s overriding guilt. “You had the detective! You had Joe West! Maybe the Flash has got all the fancy power and the funny suit, but Detective Joe West is the guy who drilled me, Mark! A damned unpowered cop! Do you know how humiliating that is to both of us?”
“Of course I do—”
“Then why the hell didn’t you at least kill him? You had him and you toyed with him!”
Struggling back to his feet, Mark tried to defend himself. “You know why I delayed. I had to get the Flash running himself ragged! Remember what we found? When he and I—hell, maybe all those like us—are at our most active, that’s when whatever energies it is making us like this are most volatile—”
Clyde grinned coldly. “Listen to you. Always the one better with words. Words. I needed action and I get words.”
“Stop that!” Without thinking, the Weather Wizard thrust a hand toward his brother. Lightning played from it, striking out at Clyde.
The bolts shot through him.
“No!” Mark shouted, horrified at the forces he had just unleashed on the only person that mattered to him. “No! Clyde!”
His brother’s body scattered as if made of dust. A harsh wind rushed from the vacated spot and at the Weather Wizard. Mark shielded his face as he tried to come to grips with his horrendous error.
“Don’t go, Clyde! Don’t go!” Mark stretched a grasping hand toward the spot. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to do it…”
The wind swirled around him, then gathered at his brother’s last location.
“That’s it, Clyde… You’ll be all right…”
As he begged, a human shape formed in the wind. Its movements mimicked those of the Weather Wizard perfectly. An anxious Mark watched as the body and limbs coalesced, finally coming into definition.
Clyde’s face formed. Clyde’s angry, judgmental face.
“Did that make you happy, Mark? Maybe you like me better dead. We were always competitive, you and I. Maybe you want to be the one and only Weather Wizard!”
“No!” Mark insisted, vehemently shaking his head. “No! I wouldn’t go through all this if I did—”
“All what? You should be ruler of this city, but instead you’re still holed up in a leftover dump we used when we were hiding from the cops! You’re gonna have to move from here too! You know the Flash has friends, brainy friends. They’ve got to have been trying to get a fix on you since Iron Heights!”
The Flash’s brainy friends…
“The wand!” The wand would have solved a lot of his troubles. The wand might have been enough to help him finally cross that threshold needed to bring Clyde back to life.
But the wand was beyond him, hidden who knew where.
“Yeah, the bloody wand. A shame they didn’t make two, one for each of us once you get me back.”
“Would like one right now just to get the job done,” the Weather Wizard muttered. His eyes widened. Suspicions he had had about another device returned.
“You’re thinking about your escape, aren’t you? You’ve been wondering all the while how you finally got out.”
Mark suddenly felt as if he had swallowed a desert. He stumbled past a couple of pieces of dusty furniture to the cache. Unfortunately, there were no bottles of water left.
“Are you that slow, bro? You’re the lord of the storm! Conjuring a little water for yourself is simple!”
“Don’t want them to locate me…”
“Then we leave for the other safe house. This dump was getting to me anyway.” Clyde cupped his hands in encouragement. “Go ahead! A few raindrops.”
Rubbing his forehead, which had begun to pound around the same moment he had cast the lightning at his sibling, Mark focused.
A peculiar haze formed a couple of feet over his upturned palms. Gritting his teeth, the rogue kept up his effort.
Droplets of water begin dripping into his cupped hands. Mark waited until he had enough, then brought it to his mouth before it could slip through to the floor. In the meantime, the haze faded away.
After swallowing every bit he could, the Weather Wizard rubbed his face with his wet hands. The cool moisture brought a measure of calm back to him, which in return enabled him to concentrate better on the theories he had about his escape.
“The wand. All the while I had that last piece of electronic garbage on my head, keeping me helpless, there was a familiar feeling. Something that reminded me of th
e way I felt when the wand was used.”
“Go on… Go on,” Clyde whispered abruptly by his ear.
“Whatever they used,” the Weather Wizard muttered, “had to use some of the same technology. At first, it did what they wanted, but somewhere along the way, just like with the wand, it started to focus my power, not nullify it after all.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Wonder how?”
Clyde now hovered by his other ear. “What does it matter how it worked? Maybe you could see if there’s some way you can make use of it to help me! Maybe it’s just what you need.”
“That means heading back to Iron Heights.”
“So? You afraid of a few guards?”
Mark growled at him. “Nothing about Iron Heights scares me. Nothing scares me, Clyde. You know that.”
“Yeah, nothing scares me either, except you failing me.”
Gritting his teeth, Mark summoned a wind to carry him aloft. It brought him through the skylight he had shattered the first night arriving here. He soared up into the storm, the rain bending around him as he moved.
The storm’s fury revived as the Weather Wizard flew over Central City. He noticed none of it, attention fixated on the ever-nearing shape of the penitentiary.
Lights flooded Iron Heights, far more than the Weather Wizard recalled. The reason was a simple one and a credit, as he saw it, to his tremendous abilities. After only a few days since he had escaped the place, the authorities had been forced to take what immediate temporary measures they could to maintain security.
A constant stream of searchlights poured over the damaged wing. Mark paused just out of sight, then stretched one hand toward where his old cell had been.
An onslaught of wind, rain, and hail struck the area. The Weather Wizard considered lightning as well, but decided that might destroy just what he had come to investigate.
Frantic shouts only audible between bouts of thunder made him smile. Mark would have done a lot worse to his former jailers if not for his need to take care. As they ran from the storm, the Weather Wizard descended into the chaos.
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