Flash

by Susan Griffith

Nimbus roared from the sofa and grappled with the flat-screen on the wall. Grunting and growling like a rabid dog, he tore it loose and smashed it to the floor. He kicked the wreckage several times for good measure.

  “Congratulations, Kyle,” Rathaway said as he entered the room. “That will show him.”

  “Shut up.” Nimbus kicked the shattered TV again. “So is this it? Is there any money to split, or has this whole thing been a waste of time?”

  “We lost two pieces last night, but we’re not finished.” Rathaway appeared calm, almost cheerful as he fiddled with his sonic gauntlets. “The game isn’t over yet, and we’re still in it to win.”

  “Mardon is gone, stupid!” Nimbus shouted. “What are you going to do to hurt the city now? Talk down to it?”

  Rathaway actually laughed. “Very clever. Surprisingly so. But I’m not interested in the city now, Kyle. As the game progresses, the board shrinks and the goals narrow. Nevertheless, they still lead to victory.”

  “I don’t even know what the hell you’re talking about anymore.”

  “I know.” Rathaway turned to Shawna. He raised his gloved hand.

  Shawna’s skin quivered on the back of her neck. At first it was a slight tremor, but suddenly she grew dizzy. The floor and ceiling swam around her. Her stomach churned. She took a step, bumped into a chair. Her feet slapped awkwardly on the floor.

  She tried to teleport but her vision flared, and her head seemed about to split open. She couldn’t breathe, and after a moment she dropped onto the filthy rug.

  Abruptly the pain stopped. She lay gasping for air. Nimbus stood in shock as Rathaway squatted next to her.

  “Trust me, Shawna,” he whispered, “when I tell you that you can’t get away from me. You are mine now, and I will use you as I will.”

  “What?” Shawna swallowed bile. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you can’t teleport away from me. If you do, I will kill you. I don’t have to see you, or even be near you. I can trigger another attack like the one you just experienced, and I can do it from anywhere. Anywhere.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked. “We’re on the same team.”

  “Are we?” he replied. “I don’t think so. How did the police know to evacuate the people from below that dam? How did Flash and the Green Arrow capture both Mardon and Bivolo? It’s as if they had a warning about the attack. Odds are someone squealed.”

  “Huh?” Nimbus looked from Rathaway to Shawna, at first in surprise, and then anger. “Oh, that’s it.” He began to go green. “You’re dead, you stinkin’ snitch!”

  “Shut up!” Shawna yelled back. “I only wish I’d given them you, too! Flash is too soft, but that Arrow guy would kill you. I hope I’m there to see it.”

  Nimbus started to drift apart into a cloud, his fading face glaring death at her.

  “Kyle!” Rathaway snapped, and he raised his hand. “Stop it—or I will.”

  Nimbus coalesced back into his human form, and Rathaway continued calmly.

  “I need her abilities and I intend to have them.” He turned back to peer at her. “Shawna, do you feel this?”

  There was a slight tingle in her neck again. She took a sharp breath, gathering her wits, ready to teleport away. She had to try…

  “Don’t panic!” Rathaway said quickly. “I’m not going to hurt you again. But in the future when you feel that little tingle, that’s me calling you—and you’d better come instantly, or it will escalate. Remember, it will happen no matter where you are. I will cause you to experience a cerebral hematoma, and you will die bleeding out of your nose and mouth. Do you understand now?”

  She rubbed her hand over the back of her neck and sat up, inching away from him. She still felt queasy. Rathaway offered to help her up, but she ignored him. With difficulty, Shawna climbed to her feet.

  “How?”

  “The Singing Meteorite. I’ve always been intrigued by it, studied it years ago, when it was first discovered. At one time I envisioned using it to create new telecommunication technology at S.T.A.R. Labs. Its physical structure is unique, granting it fascinating vibrational qualities, and the ability to store incredible amounts of energy. When my senses were enhanced, so was my natural connection to the meteorite.

  “My extraordinary affinity for sound allows me to sense and calibrate the frequency of the vibrations. I knew I could exploit the resonance qualities inherent to the crystals. First I had to match the meteorite’s original emissions, though, and the recordings from the observatory enabled me to do that. I can now channel and exploit its unlimited power.

  “In simple terms, think of me as the hydrogen bomb of tuning forks.”

  Shawna made her way to the glass wall, trying to buy time so she could think of a way to escape.

  “There’s nowhere for you to go, Shawna.” Rathaway grinned like a child. “There are crystal fragments in you. Last night while you were asleep… actually you were annoyingly restless, probably because your conscience was so troubled. So I set up a soothing vibrational wave that sent you off to slumberland, thus enabling me to inject you.”

  She launched herself at him with a primal cry, but again a searing pain shot through her skull, and she collapsed. She grimaced through clenched teeth.

  “I’ll kill you!”

  “Doubtful.” Rathaway regarded her, and the pain receded. “This is marvelous. My first tests were simple, but you really are quite the masterpiece. I can’t wait to use it on those I really want to hurt. As metahumans go, I’ve reached the pinnacle.”

  He flexed his fingers, and the wall of glass exploded outward. Shawna covered her ears, wishing this would end. She should’ve left after she gave the information to Iris. She shouldn’t have come back. Stupid loyalty. To whom? For what?

  Rathaway had fooled her, outsmarted her. She had been seduced by his complete disinterest in her as a woman, and his curiosity about her intelligence.

  “It won’t matter much longer,” she said, and a calm overcame her. “I told the Flash where we are. He should be here any minute.”

  “Please.” Rathaway scowled at her disdainfully. “If you had told him, the Flash and his crime-fighting chums would have been here long ago. No, I doubt they’ll ever locate us—not that we’ll be here much longer. I have the power I need to do what I’ve always wanted.

  “Get up,” he commanded, and he snapped his fingers at Shawna. She almost lunged at him again, but held back.

  “What about me?” Nimbus whined. “Where do I go?” Rathaway took a steeling breath, which Shawna recognized as the signal for a lie.

  “I want you here with us, Kyle,” he said. “You’re a part of this team. Before long we’ll secure freedom for Mardon and Bivolo, and we’ll continue as we have been. Everything is fine. Your future is here.”

  “Yeah?” Nimbus thought about it for a second. “Wait. You didn’t put that junk in me like you did her, did you?”

  “No, Kyle,” Rathaway said. “You I trust.”

  In that, Shawna couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. But Nimbus bobbed his head, obviously relieved.

  “Okay then, that’s cool.”

  “And soon, I suspect you’ll get the chance you’ve wanted so badly—to kill your friend, Detective Joe West. How does that sound?”

  Nimbus grinned ghoulishly. “Yeah? That sounds great.” He flopped into a chair and extended the remote toward the bare wall where the TV had been. He looked down at the rubble on the floor. “Oh crap.”

  Rathaway smiled with satisfaction. “Fine,” he said. “You two just relax until I need you. Shawna, don’t go far.” He pointed a finger. “Remember, I can tell.” He left the room, followed shortly thereafter by Nimbus, muttering bitterly about having to watch a smaller television.

  When the door closed, Shawna was alone. She went to the broken window and stared out. It was a normal day, with the sound of waves lapping the lakeshore far below the bluffs. Birds chirped. A cold October breeze filled the room.

&n
bsp; No more storms.

  She could’ve teleported anywhere she wanted. The whole world was open to her, but now she was trapped in this terrible house.

  33

  Joe West and John Diggle sat huddled over a small lantern. The night held a chill that sank into their bones. Above them, the stars appeared in the sky for a glorious clear night.

  Joe’s attention, however, was fixed entirely on the blurring image of the Flash, willing him to break free. Joe had called out several times, trying to get him to snap out of it, but to no avail. He couldn’t reach him. So the long vigil had begun.

  As the hours crept by, the knot in the pit of his gut grew tighter. He reached up to touch the comm in his ear.

  “Caitlin, any change yet?”

  The young woman’s voice came back immediately. “Not yet, Joe,” she said. “I’m sorry. I don’t get any readings from him when he’s blurred, but as soon as I do I’ll let you know.”

  Caitlin sounded tired. She should be resting. Hell, they all should be resting. Oliver patrolled Central City alone, with maybe an hour of sleep under his belt. Everyone was doing too much.

  “All right. Thanks.”

  Barry’s earlier episodes had only lasted a few minutes, and they had left him drained. This one was going on eighteen hours, so there was no telling what it would do to him. As a result they had several electrolyte IVs on hand, to start as soon as they were able to lay hands on him. Anything to give him the boost he would need, before he could slip into shock.

  Joe rubbed his face roughly, his cheeks cold despite the heat from the fire.

  “He’ll be all right,” John said, sitting beside him. Joe just nodded.

  “We took down two of those metahumans,” John continued. “That’s two less for all of us to worry about. Gives us some breathing room.” John’s head bobbed toward the blurry image of the Flash. “Gives him some breathing room.”

  “God knows, he needs it,” Joe muttered. “That boy doesn’t know the meaning of the word rest. He’ll keep going till it kills him.”

  “Oliver won’t let that happen. Trust me. He’s got a tranq arrow with Barry’s name on it, if he gets too bull-headed.”

  That brought a smile to Joe’s lips. “I’ll sign the waiver if need be.” He shook his head with frustration. “This Super Hero business is enough to make my hair go white. I don’t know how you people do it.”

  “Well, I’m not the one to ask.”

  Joe scoffed. “Please. You run with the Green Arrow, and yet still have time to balance a family. You’re just as baffling to me as Barry is.”

  “It’s not easy.” John shrugged sheepishly. “Every day I have to make a choice. Stay at home and play with my baby girl, or go out and make the world safe for her to live in.”

  “When you say it like that, the choice is pretty clear.” Joe thought about his own career as a police detective, and realized he had been making the same choice for much of his life.

  “It was clear.” John leaned back and cast his eyes up at the night sky. “Sometimes I’d chuck it all aside just to spend one more hour at home with her, bouncing her on my knee.”

  “Wait till she wants you to play dolls with her.”

  John looked dubious. “I’m not sure I do dolls. I’m ex-Army.”

  Joe laughed. “That won’t matter, trust me. You’ll be wishing she’d wake up sooner, just so you can play with her.”

  “I do that now.” A wistful expression overcame the big muscular man. “When she’s awake, I feel the work calling. But when she’s napping, I find myself counting the minutes until she wakes up.”

  “Welcome to fatherhood,” Joe said with a broad grin. “There’s something about baby girls that just melts us.”

  “Amen to that.”

  “Iris had me playing dress-up ten times a day every time she could. I even answered the door wearing an Easter bonnet. Lucky it was only a neighbor. If it’d been someone from the force, it would still be a story.”

  “I will not be doing that,” John stated firmly.

  Joe raised an eyebrow. “I’ll lay money right now. You’ll be wearing makeup and a frock in four years’ time.”

  John waved off that image, laughing. “That’s what she has a mother for.”

  “That’s one thing in your favor.” Joe’s humor faded. “Neither Iris nor Barry had their mothers around. It’s the one thing I’ll always regret for them.”

  “They seemed to make out pretty well, even so. You did a good job raising them on your own.”

  “Thanks. It wasn’t easy, particularly with Barry, after all he went through with his mom’s death. Iris grew up too fast, too, I think. She had to help take care of Barry when he came to live with us. That boy was so beaten up inside then.”

  “Good thing he found two people who loved him. It’s plain to see.”

  Joe shrugged. Again his gaze went to the vibrating figure next to them, looking for any sign that the seizure was abating. He couldn’t even make out Barry’s facial expression—only a hazy image. Lightning ominously crawled over Barry’s body. That plasma was inside him, eating away at the speed force. How much longer could he go on before his heart stopped from the strain?

  “So you and Nimbus have a past,” John said. “What’s the deal?”

  Joe grimaced. “He’s a lunatic. I put him away once. Sent him to the gas chamber, and he deserved to be there. But he escaped and he keeps coming back.”

  “They always do. In this new world, even dead doesn’t mean dead anymore.”

  “Sounds like you have some experience.”

  John’s expression turned cold. “Yeah. For good and bad.”

  “In our line of work, making enemies is part of the job.” Joe reached for a thermos and poured them both some hot coffee. “Just wish they didn’t turn into poison gas clouds.”

  “True enough.” John took the cup gratefully.

  Joe let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t worry so much for myself, but for everyone around me. They always go after the ones you love, you know?”

  “They can try,” John said.

  “Yeah, they can try,” Joe echoed. He looked at Barry again. “But this…” He took a deep breath. “This I don’t know how to fight. I feel so damn helpless.”

  “You’re doing what you can. Being the rock that he needs. Kids make clearer decisions if they feel solid ground beneath their feet.”

  “What if that’s not enough?”

  “Then we give them all the encouragement they can stand,” John stated firmly. “Whether they like it or not.”

  Joe grunted. “Never took you for a philosophical sort. Sounds like you’ve done your share of talking someone down from a ledge. Oliver?”

  “Hell, man, Oliver lives up on that damn ledge,” John said with a harsh laugh. “But I can wax as rhapsodic as a poet, if it gets the job done.”

  Joe stood and walked over to the shimmering figure.

  “I know you’re in there, son,” he said softly. “Just stop running and come back. We need you here. I need you here.”

  John came to stand next to them. “What happens to him when he’s like that?”

  “He says he sees things. People from the past, maybe the future.” Joe sighed. “Not sure what’s filling his head. All I know is the boy carries too much on his shoulders. He’s trying too hard to save everyone.”

  “I’m not a doctor or anything, but this kid has all the symptoms of PTSD.”

  “Like combat fatigue?”

  “Yeah, that’s what they used to call it. A lot of soldiers suffer with it during and after wartime, and like it or not, this city is a war zone. It has been for a long time now. Soldiers can’t stand on the front lines forever. The more they push themselves, the more they start to make mistakes or get sick. Their bodies and their minds start to work against them.”

  “It does sort of sound like what’s happening,” Joe agreed. “Except that weird plasma from the wormhole is inside him, too, so it can’t be just psychologi
cal.”

  John shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not a doctor. I can only talk about what I know.”

  Then Joe froze.

  For just a moment, he caught a solid glimpse of Barry’s eyes, wide and filled with terror. Then it was gone. He stepped closer and spoke loudly.

  “Barry! Can you hear me?” The blur slowed again. “That’s it, son!”

  “He’s coming out of it!” Caitlin called out over the comm. “Heart rate is skyrocketing. Blood pressure is way too high.”

  Suddenly the Flash stopped.

  The blurring ceased and Barry dropped as if he were a puppet whose strings had been cut. Joe reached for him, grabbing him before he fell to the ground.

  John raced for the medical supplies, and instantly Joe was glad for the man’s military training. Thanks to his years in Afghanistan, the ex-soldier stayed calm and efficient. It grounded Joe, helping him make sure that the emotions boiling inside didn’t spiral into panic.

  The Flash’s arm thrashed, as if he was trying to strike at Joe, but the blow was so weak it barely brushed him.

  “It’s me, son,” he told Barry. “It’s all right. You’re going to be all right. You blurred, but it’s over now.” He pulled back the cowl on the red suit.

  “Zoom…” It came out as a strangled gasp.

  “Zoom’s not real,” Joe said. “You’re back with family.” The costumed figure was trembling, and the tremors were becoming more violent by the second. John wrapped a thermal blanket around him.

  “It’s bad,” Joe said quietly. “This is the worst attack yet.”

  “His heart rate is slowing,” Caitlin said. “Get him back here as quickly as you can.”

  Joe laid a hand on Barry’s cheek. His skin was hot and dry.

  “I’ve seen similar reactions out in the field,” John said as he pulled up a uniform sleeve. “He’s got way too much adrenalin in his system. Fighting too long and too hard. He’s spent.”

  “Will he be all right?” Joe asked, wanting to hear the answer he needed.

  “I’ll get him stabilized,” John replied. “You bring the van over. Get the heater going.”

  Joe ran for the van, bringing it closer and opening the vents full bore to get it warmed up inside. He and John bundled Barry into the back seat. Climbing in beside him, Joe remained there holding him close until they finally careened into the parking lot of S.T.A.R. Labs.