The Flash

by Richard Knaak

  Snarling, the Weather Wizard gestured at Joe. The detective felt a strong wind wrap around him. Without warning, he was hefted high into the air.

  A breath later, Mardon joined him. The Weather Wizard fixed his unblinking stare on the law officer. “Yes, let’s talk about my brother, but let’s do it in a more appropriate spot!”

  They soared through an unfinished gap in the ceiling and into the storm. Immediately, Joe was buffeted by heavy rain, strong winds, and even hail. He could do nothing save try to turn his head away from the direction from which most of the elements came at him. Even then, he was battered hard.

  His few glimpses of the Weather Wizard were enough to verify that Mardon didn’t suffer from the rain and wind as the detective did. Joe suspected that meant that his captor could have protected him as well, but had just not bothered. The Weather Wizard needed him alive, but apparently just barely.

  In the clouds, he finally lost all sense of direction. He only knew that they flew for perhaps five or six minutes before descending.

  Joe recalled that Cisco had been working on trying to use the Weather Wizard’s abilities as a means to track him. Unfortunately, from what the detective had seen, with the storm acting as interference, Cisco would need a far stronger display of Mardon’s powers than this to be able to pinpoint where they currently were.

  You have to keep assuming that it’s all up to you, Joe. That saved you more than once when you were a beat cop. Mardon’s just another hood, no matter how strong he is. You’ve outwitted better than him.

  The Weather Wizard began to descend. Joe didn’t thank any power until they were once more safely on the ground. He had not been entirely certain that Mardon would lower him slowly; the Weather Wizard might have decided that he wanted his prisoner alive, but in just what condition was another question.

  The rain abruptly cut away from the bedraggled law officer. Joe thanked no one for the meager gift; he was soaked to the bone from the flight.

  “Oh, I am so sorry,” Mardon mocked as he alighted next to Joe. “Did I forget to shield you from the elements? Here, let me dry you off!”

  The wind surrounding Joe spun hard, picking the detective up a few feet and whirling him about. Joe tried his best not to throw up as he went around and around and around. His captor laughed throughout the awful spinning.

  Without warning, the wind halted. Joe dropped unceremoniously to the ground. The detective grunted in new pain as he hit hard.

  “There,” the Weather Wizard remarked with relish. “Now you’re dry. So much better!”

  Vertigo assailed Joe. He shut his eyes and concentrated, trying to regain his focus.

  “Forgive me. I’ll keep you fairly dry from here on, Detective West.”

  “Th-thanks. For nothing.”

  “My pleasure. Now, why don’t you take a gander around us, just for old times’ sake.”

  Not at all certain just what Mardon meant by this, Joe attempted to do as suggested. They were clearly outside the city limits. He made out the silhouettes of distant buildings and tried to match them with places near Central City.

  Then he saw the ruined farmhouse just behind them. To anyone unfamiliar with its history, it appeared as if some terrible explosion had ripped it apart from the inside. Fragments still lay scattered in the muddy soil, there being few people out here inclined to even step near what many considered almost cursed land. Three battered walls gave about half the roof just barely enough hold to stay on, although Joe estimated that the balance could not maintain itself for much longer.

  Oh dear God. He’s brought me back to where it all began. There’s no dealing with him after all if this is his state of mind.

  “Feels good being in the old neighborhood, so to speak, doesn’t it? Makes you want to reminisce, hmm?”

  Joe knew that the Weather Wizard meant just the opposite. In retrospect, it didn’t come as any real surprise to the detective to end up here, especially having already experienced Mardon’s obsession with all things concerning his brother.

  This was, after all, where Clyde Mardon had died.

  Joe could make out the location from which he had fired and further on the spot where the Weather Wizard’s younger brother had last stood. Joe remembered vividly Clyde unleashing the tornado. The detective could also well recall how, immediately after the Flash had succeeded in dealing with Clyde’s creation, the furious younger Mardon had drawn a gun to deal with the disoriented speedster.

  Joe had had no choice but to shoot.

  “Yeah, I can see it brings back all the good old memories!” The Weather Wizard turned away from the detective. “How about you, Clyde?”

  Following Mardon’s gaze, Joe discovered that the shadowy figure was again with them. Joe couldn’t remember having seen him during their flight, which meant that the Weather Wizard’s supposed brother had to have followed by some special means of his own. Again, that made Joe suspect some new metahuman. A clever one if he had managed to convince the Weather Wizard of just who he was for so very long.

  “To hell with memories,” came that other voice. “I’m the only thing I want brought back now!”

  The declaration startled Joe in two ways. The first was what the words insinuated, that this figure claiming to be Clyde Mardon also claimed to be wanting to return from the dead. That in itself would have been enough to shake anyone, but added to that was the oddness in that voice. Once more, Joe felt as if it didn’t come from the same direction as the figure. But why? he wondered. What’s going on with that?

  “It’ll be soon,” Mardon promised his murky companion. “Got the Flash all primed up. He’ll push himself more than ever. That’ll be enough with all I’m holding together, Clyde! We’ll get you back this time!”

  “I hope so. I hope so.” The figure pointed at Joe. “And then we get rid of that one too. Maybe after we first get rid of that daughter of his we found. Let him die knowing what it’s like to lose someone.”

  For the first time, Joe lost control. “Don’t you touch her!”

  The Weather Wizard turned and glared at him. “You don’t get to demand anything, West, especially that! You owe a life beyond your own if we say so!”

  “No! My life for Clyde’s, if anything. She’s been no part of this!”

  Mardon’s expression turned feverish. “Maybe you didn’t hear me! You don’t get to demand anything! You took Clyde and you and yours will all pay if that’s what gets him back! Isn’t that right, Clyde?”

  “You tell him, Mark. You tell him.”

  The Weather Wizard cocked his head. “Awful quiet now! Maybe you finally got the message!”

  Joe couldn’t answer, but not because of the Weather Wizard’s implied threat against Iris. Instead, Joe was too busy trying to digest a new and monstrous revelation. Now he had some answers, but also more questions… not to mention more fear not just for himself, but for Iris and the rest.

  “Yeah, quiet as a mouse now, Mark,” Clyde agreed… Only it wasn’t Clyde speaking. The voice sounded a lot like the voice the detective remembered from the younger brother, but it wasn’t coming from any ghost of the dead metahuman nor even the shadowy figure.

  It was coming from the Weather Wizard himself.

  * * *

  Cisco glanced over at Caitlin, who lay calmly on the table. Her eyes were closed for the most part, although every now and then she would open them slightly. However, each time she did, they opened less and less.

  He looked at the small cup next to her, the cup in which a tiny amount of something to relax her had been added. Cisco got up and took the cup. Caitlin briefly looked at him, then shut her eyes again.

  Iris, seated next to her, stared warily at him. “How strong is what you gave her?”

  “Just enough to help her rest a little. According to my calculations, for what we’re planning she can be asleep. This way, if anything changes in her, she won’t be able to consciously attack us.”

  Iris didn’t look pleased. “Just what are you th
inking will happen?”

  “I’ve run every possible scenario. Hopefully, one of the ones where we come out pretty much unscathed.”

  “‘Hopefully’?”

  Cisco shrugged. “I—”

  The alarm went off. The two stared at his console. H.R., munching on a sandwich from what supplies Barry had left, jumped to his feet.

  Cisco hurried back to his station. However, as he reached it, the signal died.

  “What is it?” Iris asked.

  “Let me see.” He typed. “Not him, at least not directly. That’s odd. The nature of the storm is changing again. Why would the Weather Wizard—never mind. I’m making some adjustments so there’s no mistaking again. How’s she doing?”

  “Resting.” Iris looked at the monitor near Caitlin. “It says here that her blood pressure and heartbeat are normal.”

  “Good. Then all we need is for Mardon to act.” He studied Iris. “Sorry. I know this is especially hard on you. I wish it were otherwise, believe me.”

  She bit her lip. “I have faith in Barry and you guys. I have faith in my father too.”

  At that moment Caitlin twitched. The readings on the monitor momentarily jumped, then settled slightly higher than they had been.

  “Cisco, does that mean something?”

  He looked at the console. “Not getting anything here, but that’s the point of this.” Cisco added some information. “Making a sweep of all readings from here on. If the Weather Wizard’s doing something, we should be able to pick up a slight but ever-increasing level to it. That should help—”

  “Cisco!” Iris leaped up as Caitlin’s readings began to fluctuate more.

  “Let me check over here.” He went to his console and looked at the latest readings. Excitement tinged his voice. “That’s new! Right at the same moment. Let me cross-check it.”

  H.R. joined Iris. “When does this go from helpful to dangerous?”

  “We’re good right now. Hang on. I think I’ve just about got it.”

  He typed in a few more numbers. All the while, Iris and H.R. kept watch on Caitlin.

  “There! I think that should be it!” Cisco straightened. “Cisco to Barry.”

  A moment passed, then Barry’s voice came online. “I was going to contact you! I’m coming up dry, no pun intended! Wally hasn’t spotted anything either.”

  “Yeah, well, take a listen to this address!”

  There was a very slight pause as Barry digested the information Cisco gave him next. Then, “How recent is this?”

  “A minute. No more! It’s—”

  “I’m already there.”

  On one of the main monitors, the signal marking the Flash zipped across and then down. Cisco shook his head in disbelief. As quickly as the dot shifted, it couldn’t actually keep up with the Flash’s true speed. Whatever Cisco viewed lagged behind badly.

  And so, when the light had made it nearly halfway to the address in question, he knew that meant that Barry had already almost reached his destination.

  From another direction, the dot representing Wally shifted only slightly slower than Barry’s. Despite both Barry’s and Cisco’s preference, it was clear that Wally intended to be there for any confrontation.

  “Is that my brother?” Iris called.

  “Don’t worry. He knows enough to follow Barry’s lead this time.”

  “And does Barry know enough now to lead someone in there?”

  Cisco kept his expression neutral. “They’ll be fine. I promise. Wally will be very careful from here on. You’ll see.”

  “I’ve heard too many questionable promises—Cisco! Caitlin’s readings are changing!”

  “How high?”

  She paused. “Not high at all. Down, for the most part!”

  “Down?” Despite their immediate situation, Cisco had to take the chance of looking at Caitlin’s readings. What he saw disturbed him. “That’s not possible. Let me make sure the machine is reading things right—”

  An intense wave of cold air draped over him. At the same time he heard a surprised grunt from H.R. and a gasp from Iris.

  A chill ran down Cisco’s spine.

  Though Caitlin still slept, her skin had turned frost white in barely a single heartbeat.

  15

  He’s completely insane! Joe realized.

  The figure that was supposed to be Clyde Mardon remained out of proper view. Joe no longer knew what to make of him or it or whatever it was that lurked out there. All he could say for certain was that it had a human shape.

  The Weather Wizard continued to grin, an expression that more and more reminded Joe of a death’s head. Mardon looked like a man possessed… and perhaps he was, Joe thought.

  “Take a look at it, West!” the Weather Wizard roared. “Feel the storm? Every facet of it is me now! The fools thought that they were binding my powers, but instead they made me a god!”

  Joe winced as lightning wracked their vicinity and thunder nearly deafened him. He also noticed the Weather Wizard flinch slightly as the lightning and thunder played out, although from the intense expression on Mardon’s face, the metahuman was unaware of his own reaction to his precious storm.

  Filing away that disturbing knowledge, he responded. “I can see you need help badly, Mardon. Whatever you’re doing, it’s tearing you apart! Can’t you see that?”

  The rogue’s expression shifted. His eyes narrowed. “He’s trying to keep you from bringing me back, Mark!” the Weather Wizard snarled in the other voice. Simultaneously, the figure behind him moved as if accenting the words. “We shouldn’t take a chance. We should kill him!”

  “Not yet,” Mardon countered, face and voice shifting back to his own. “We need him for the Flash, remember? We need the Flash so we can build up the storm enough to resurrect you!”

  Joe stared. Mardon actually believed that he had the power to bring back his dead brother. While it was clear that Mardon was extremely strong—perhaps the strongest metahuman Joe and the rest had thus far encountered—such a feat was certainly beyond him. Still, what concerned the detective most was what would happen to Central City when the Weather Wizard did truly unleash everything. Joe could see a catastrophe far worse than even the tidal wave. And caught up in that catastrophe would be his daughter, son, and everyone else he cared for.

  He tried to work his bonds loose. From what he could judge, the Weather Wizard had bound him by hand. Joe trusted from past experience that anyone in such a hurry or so obsessed might very well make a mistake. Now, at last, Joe sensed a weakening. With his captive so helpless and his belief in his power so utterly complete, Mardon hadn’t even bothered to check the detective for any other weapons. The slight bulkiness Joe felt by his back at the waist meant that the second gun he had decided to carry a few days ago was still with him. Mardon, with his criminal background, should have thought about a gun being hidden there. It was a piece of luck the detective was glad to have.

  “Yeah,” Mardon answered as Clyde. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve been telling you all this time, but seeing him has me burning. He shot me like a dog, Mark! Let’s get this done so I can make him pay!”

  “We will,” the Weather Wizard answered as himself. “We just need the Flash here at just the right point. No sooner, no later.”

  “No sooner, no later,” the Clyde personality repeated.

  Joe felt one hand finally gain some movement. He began twisting both wrists as much as he could without alerting his captor to his actions. Just a little more.

  “It’s coming soon enough,” declared the Weather Wizard as himself. “Soon enough to get the ball rolling… or maybe I should say the storm roiling…”

  To put a flourish on his words, Mardon raised his hands and summoned thunder. Now Joe wished that his hands were free just so that he could cover his ears. He felt as if his head were about to explode from the horrific din. In his struggles to block out the continuous barrage of sound, one hand finally slipped free.

  The Weather Wizard noticed n
one of that. Instead, hands still raised, he slowly turned in a circle, then cried out, “I know he’s out there! I know he’s nearby! Looking to rush in and grab me… Come on, Flash! Everything’s falling into place! All we need now is for you to make your move—”

  Joe grabbed for the hidden gun and brought it out with one smooth motion. The other figure did nothing to stop him. His sense of justice and duty made the detective hesitate. Joe had never shot a suspect without giving him some sort of chance to surrender. It was not just what he had been taught, but what he felt.

  “Damn…” He aimed carefully, calculating where the Weather Wizard’s chest would be when the rogue spun around. “Mark Mardon! Keep your hands high in the air and surrender or I fire!”

  To his bewilderment, the Weather Wizard not only did not obey, but didn’t even turn.

  “Go ahead, West!” the rogue called while still facing the other way. “You’ve got a nice clean shot at my back! Just like you love to take! Go ahead and fire!”

  “You know that’s not how it’s done and that’s not how I do it, Mardon! I had no choice!”

  The figure slowly extended a dark hand toward the detective. “Not exactly how I remember it, West!” the Weather Wizard said in his “Clyde” voice. “And I got the bullet hole in me to prove it!”

  “I don’t even know what you are, but you’re not Clyde Mardon!”

  “What’s the matter, detective?” the second voice mocked. “Don’t believe in ghosts?”

  “Don’t know if I believe in ghosts or not, but I certainly don’t believe in you!”

  “So, go ahead and put another bullet in me then! Go on! You know you want to!”

  Joe shook his head, in part in disbelief at the conversation he was having with the two parts of the Weather Wizard’s personality and the murky figure. A part of him considered firing a close shot at the shape just to see what would happen, but he needed to save his likely one and only shot for the true threat.