The Flash Read online

Page 2

“All yours,” he told Joe and the officers.

  “Thank you!” Joe turned Snapshot over to two men in the truck. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say…”

  Grinning, the Flash raced off.

  * * *

  Cisco leaned back. “We are good, aren’t we?”

  “Try not to get a swollen head,” Caitlin answered, standing. “But yeah, we did good.”

  “Ha! The storm’s going to be dull compared to this!” Cisco stretched a hand to the keyboard, typed, then waited. “Well… maybe not dull… but more straightforward at least…”

  Iris sighed. “Thank goodness.”

  H.R. looked at her. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes… I’m just glad it went so well.”

  “How could it not with a crew like this?” Cisco asked with a grin.

  “I hope I get a little of that credit.”

  The others stood up to greet Barry. Pulling back his cowl, he raced over to the coffee machine, poured a cup, and joined the others while they were still rising.

  “Definitely a great job, dude,” Cisco replied with a wide smile.

  “Thank you, Barry,” Caitlin added.

  “Not at all. Wish they all went this easy.”

  “Hey!” Cisco interjected. “It wasn’t easy; we’re just that good! First Plunder just a few days ago and now Snapshot! We are on a roll!”

  Iris joined Barry. The others surreptitiously pulled back from the conversation. “I’m so glad you’re back. Are you all right?”

  “He didn’t even touch me. I told you not to worry. Joe’s perfectly fine too.”

  “Thank you.” Iris kissed him. “I am really glad you’re back safe and sound.”

  A guilty look crossed his face. “Yeah… Iris. I have to get back out there. On my way back, I already had to help people twice. The storm’s causing all sorts of problems.”

  “Must you? No, never mind. I know.” She touched him on the cheek. “Go out there, but please be careful.”

  “I always am.” Thunder rolled as Barry slipped his cowl back on. “Hey, Cisco! I’m going back out there! When you’re through celebrating, do me a favor and switch on the police and emergency bands. Alert me to anything I can help with!”

  “Will do! Nice job again, Barry! Can’t wait to add Snapshot’s mugshot to our collection!”

  The Flash grinned. To Iris, he said more quietly, “I swear I’ll be careful, all right? We’ve had this conversation a lot lately. I don’t know what else to say.”

  “Just… Oh, never mind. Go!”

  This time he kissed her. Then the Flash called out, “Thanks, everyone!”

  Cisco positioned himself at the console. “All set for you, Barry!”

  With a wave to all and one last look at Iris, the Flash raced off.

  “Please be careful,” she murmured.

  * * *

  He had to do something. His brother was about to die again. Despite all Mardon’s vaunted power over the weather, history was about to repeat itself.

  “Keep away from him, Clyde!” he shouted through the tempest in which they both hovered untouched like gods. “Let me take him! Not you!”

  But as had been his younger brother’s way throughout his life, Clyde Mardon lunged forward. As he did, the tempest roared to life and followed him.

  “I’ve got him, Mark!” Clyde shouted. “Just watch what I can do!”

  In the distance, a blurry form raced toward them. Mardon tried to strike at it, but Clyde somehow got in the path, forcing the older brother to abort his attack.

  “Fastest man alive?” Clyde mocked at the blurry figure. “You can’t outrun what’s all around you!”

  Thunder crashed. A dozen jagged lightning bolts struck the area surrounding the oncoming form. Mardon cheered his brother’s efforts… until it became clear that none of the bolts had come even close to their enemy.

  “Not too shabby,” Clyde snarled. “Try this!”

  A hailstorm erupted. Thousands of diamond-hard stones poured down on the racing figure.

  None of which even touched it, the crimson attacker easily dodging every single one.

  “Let me handle him, Clyde,” Mardon shouted. “Let me!”

  Clyde glanced back at him. The brothers didn’t look much alike save in general build. Clyde had a wild, rough-hewn aspect that fit his personality well; Mark Mardon was thinner in the face—in part the product of the strain he had been through since the accident—and where Clyde’s eyes flashed like the lightning, the older sibling’s were dark and steady. Mark had always guided his brother, always kept Clyde from his own impetuousness… until fate had kept the two apart and the so-called hero of Central City had tricked the younger Mardon.

  Tricked … A sense of dismay filled Mark Mardon. How could he have forgotten the other player in this game, the one the Flash had used to be the actual executioner? Couldn’t have the city’s squeaky-clean champion actually be the killer. No, better to let the cop do that and pretend it was self-defense…

  “Clyde!” Mardon had to strain to be heard, so violent had the storm—Clyde’s storm—grown.

  A single short crack of thunder resounded throughout the city—

  “No!” Mardon realized that it was not thunder he had heard, but rather a lone gunshot. “No!”

  “Bullseye!” mocked a deep voice just behind him. “Never takes more than one shot to down a rat.”

  Mardon spun around. Where a moment ago he had been floating high above the soaked ground, now he stood in the middle of a street. Behind him, the speaker chuckled.

  “West! Damn you! No!” Mardon tried to grab the imposing detective, but with a triumphant smile the law officer replaced his smoking service revolver in his overcoat, then dissipated like mist.

  “M-Mark?” Clyde called in a weakening voice.

  “Clyde!” Boosted by a strong gust of wind he himself created, Mardon flew toward his brother. Head bent down, Clyde hovered awkwardly. Then, just as the older brother neared, Clyde turned in the air to face him.

  Blood poured from a gunshot wound directly where his heart was. The blood spilled out, coloring the torrential rain a deep red.

  “M-Mark?” gasped Clyde, face as pale as the hail. “You were supposed to be th-there for me! You were always supposed to be there for me—”

  “Clyde! No!” Mardon tried to grab his brother, but at that moment Clyde dropped like a rock.

  Screaming, Mardon dove after Clyde, but without warning the river of blood became the same damned crimson figure the brothers had been fighting. The speeding form of the Flash rushed to a spot just below Clyde, and he caught the falling figure with ease.

  Mark Mardon’s momentary relief turned to renewed rage as the Flash briefly paused to smirk at his remaining adversary. Mardon’s gaze went from the masked speedster’s smirk to the lightning bolt insignia on the Flash’s chest.

  Gritting his teeth, Mardon used the insignia’s influence to send a barrage of bolts at the speedster from all directions.

  Still carrying Clyde’s limp body, the Flash gave Mardon a mocking salute, then seemingly vanished.

  “Come back, damn you! Come back—”

  Without warning, the storm seized Mardon, tossing him high into it. He watched as the Flash stole his brother from him again and roared his bitterness and fury. The storm echoed his emotions, growing wild. Tornadic winds tore entire buildings from their foundations. Monsoon rain washed streets away. Yet the Flash raced on unaffected, he and Clyde dwindling in the distance.

  Mardon unleashed another anguished cry. The storm reacted with an explosion of ear-shattering thunder—

  And woke Mardon up to the harsh reality of Iron Heights and the true fate of his brother.

  “Flash…” he whispered as he stared up at the thick stone and steel ceiling of his cell. “Flash…”

  The actual storm outside chose that moment to rumble ominously, fueling Mardon’s dark thoughts concerning the speedster. Detective Joe West would be dead
by now if not for the Flash. At least there would have been that satisfaction.

  “Unngh!” Another of the headaches struck him. He yearned to tear the metal cap off his head, but thus far his bleeding-heart lawyers had not managed to get Iron Heights’ latest attempt at keeping his metahuman abilities dampened removed. Mardon didn’t know if the headaches were part of the treatment, but they were certainly proving capable of keeping his concentration from lasting more than a couple of minutes.

  But even the worst headaches, the worst pain, couldn’t keep him from thinking about Clyde and his killers.

  That was enough for him to try again. Mardon did only three things. Sleep, eat, and try to overcome the machines Iron Heights threw at him. Someday one of those machines would fail. They had to.

  For the moment managing to force the headache pain back, Mardon concentrated his will. He was no mere prisoner. He was no mere metahuman, even. They had called him the “Weather Wizard” and he liked that name. The elements were his to command. No device, however clever, should be able to hold him!

  Thunder shook the sturdy penitentiary. Mardon grinned, imagining that thunder an acknowledgement by the weather of just who its master was: Mark Mardon. The Weather Wizard!

  Now who’s the cocky one? a voice in his head suddenly joked. I’m supposed to be the one with the big ego, bro!

  “Clyde?” Mardon paused, but the only sounds were the thunder and the pouring rain.

  Frustration growing, he again poured his will into overcoming the machine. Mardon couldn’t shake the feeling that this latest device shared ties with the wand one of the Flash’s allies had created. Of course that had proven a double-edged sword for the speedster; Mardon had discovered that not only could he manipulate the mechanism himself, but the wand actually enabled him to focus his powers even better. With the wand, Mardon felt certain that he could have easily overcome the prison’s mechanisms and escaped.

  Awful lot of “maybes” and “ifs”, Mark… thought you were the leader type. Show some spine! Make them pay for what they did to me!

  “Clyde?” Mardon shot up to a sitting position, an act he immediately regretted. The headache intensified, making his head feel as if it were about to explode. He growled as he clutched the thin plastic and metal helmet he had to wear twenty-four hours a day. The warden had said the scientists were working on a more mobile version that they’d have ready in about a week, but that hardly cheered him. The current helmet was locked on tight and until his lawyers got that court order, it looked like he was going to have to wear the new version as well.

  You’re not gonna just roll over like that again, are you, Mark? Come on! Those two are out there savoring my blood and you’re whining about headaches!

  “Shut up…” Mardon pictured the Flash and Detective West going about their lives while Clyde lay dead and he struggled just to keep his thoughts straight. “They’re not going to get away with anything… anything.”

  As if to punctuate his oath, lightning struck Iron Heights. For a moment the lights all died. They returned before Mardon could react, but the knowledge of the system’s fallibility stirred him on. Still seated, he took a deep breath and once more imagined Clyde’s death.

  Clyde’s death.

  Clyde’s death…

  “I swore they’d pay,” Mardon said to his brother. “I swore they’d pay and soon.”

  Prove it, Mark! Prove it to me!

  “Stop shouting!” Mardon shut his eyes, the better to concentrate.

  Another bolt struck Iron Heights. The lights faltered. For just a second the Weather Wizard felt utter clarity and utter control of his powers. And once again, the systems came back on before he could react. Still, Mardon felt a flush of hope. The storm was on his side almost as if he had summoned it himself. Thanks to the helmet that was impossible, of course, but Mardon still clung to the thought that if lightning could disrupt things twice this night, why not a third time?

  He adjusted his position and waited. He could be this patient. He had endured months in this hell; he could bide his time a little longer. All he had to do was pay strict attention—

  “Mardon!”

  The Weather Wizard scowled. He had no idea which guard had called his name. They were inconsequential to him and therefore not worthy of being remembered… except for the fact that right now this guard was distracting him.

  “Mardon!” the faceless figure on the other side of the massive metal door shouted angrily. “It’s lights out! No sitting up!”

  “Storm’s keeping me awake,” he replied sarcastically.

  “Down! Now!”

  Mardon refused to move. He had himself set exactly the way he wanted to and worried that any movement would undo his focus. “I’m doing nothing. Go away.”

  “Mardon!”

  You never let people step over you before, came his brother’s voice again. You’ll never be able to stand up to the Flash and West if you can’t stand up to a damned guard!

  “Shut up!” Mardon told the voice.

  “That’s enough out of you!” the guard commanded, mistaking the Weather Wizard’s shout for one aimed at him. The guard called something to someone in the hall. Reinforcements, Mardon knew. They would never confront him alone, not even with his powers dampened.

  They fear you, Mark, his brother said. Show them they’ve got reason! Show me!

  A burst of thunder shook the prison. Mardon glared at the door, glared at the unseen guards gathering outside. If he had had his powers, they would have been fleeing in terror.

  The wind howled. Lightning struck nearby. Mardon continued staring at the door, waiting, calculating. It had to happen again. It had to.

  The door swung open.

  Lightning battered Iron Heights.

  The electricity—and the security system keeping Mardon from using his metahuman abilities—ever so briefly failed.

  With an evil grin, the Weather Wizard struck his surroundings. A powerful whirlwind barreled into the guards just beginning to enter, sending them crashing into the hall. Lightning assailed the roof above his cell, battering it. Thunder pounded continuously, matching Mardon’s racing heart as he reveled in his godhood.

  That’s it, brother! he heard Clyde urge triumphantly. Show them what a Mardon is made of! Tear down these walls!

  “Tear down these walls…” the Weather Wizard repeated in the same tone. “Tear down these walls…”

  The whirlwind with which he had so contemptuously tossed the guards back into the hall now swelled around him. The thick cell walls groaned as the incredible forces relentlessly pushed at them.

  But Mardon was not satisfied with that. Even as severe cracks began to spread across the cell, the Weather Wizard summoned lightning. Bolt after bolt wracked the room. Mardon heard faint voices crying out in fear, but whether they were guards or other prisoners meant nothing to him. All that mattered was proving that he would not fail his brother.

  The constant barrage proved too much for the cell. First the ceiling collapsed in. Any other prisoner would have been buried under tons of cement, steel, and more. Not so Mardon. The same winds that ravaged the cracking walls also kept anything from hitting him.

  The outer wall finally shattered, spilling more debris beyond his ruined cell. Rain poured in, as with the debris just missing Mardon.

  Breath coming rapidly, the Weather Wizard stood. The thunder continued to pound in a beat identical to that of Mardon’s heart.

  “I’ll show all of them, Clyde!” he shouted as the storm enveloped the ruined interior. “I’ll show them what happens to anyone who crosses us!”

  Teach them, Mark… Teach them to shake in fear at the very mention of our name!

  Arms outstretched, Mardon brought rain, hail, wind, lightning, thunder, and more down on what was left of his surroundings. Shouts continued from every direction.

  The Weather Wizard smiled more widely.

  The walls shattered, massive pieces of concrete flung far by the incessant wind.


  “There you go, Clyde,” he murmured. “Just the beginning…”

  “Mardon! Halt!”

  Three armed guards aimed at him from what was left of the corridor. The Weather Wizard gave them a scornful smile.

  Hail pelted the men. They scattered like the ants they were to him. He had not let the three live out of any humanity. Mardon wanted witnesses to his power, witnesses that would make certain to remind the Flash and West just what they could expect.

  It vaguely surprised him that the speedster had not shown up yet. “You’re late, Flash!” He laughed manically. “Slowest man alive tonight!”

  Stumbling back to what remained of his bed, the Weather Wizard reached underneath the mattress. He pocketed a few small bits of newspaper stuffed there, then stepped back.

  The thunder intensified. The rain poured down harder, still spilling over everything but him. Mardon panted as he took more and more control of—nay, became—the storm. He felt as if it had been years since his confinement. The Weather Wizard struck out left and right, leaving ruin in his wake.

  That’s more than enough! Clyde’s voice interrupted. You want the Flash to come when you’re all worn out? You always told me to pick my fights when the odds were best for me! One more night… We can wait one more night now, right?

  “One more night,” Mardon gasped, only now feeling the effects of using the storm to ravage Iron Heights. Around him, alarms went off as the prison tried to deal with the havoc. “Yeah, one more night, Clyde…”

  Rubble surrounded the Weather Wizard, blocking all exits. Anyone wanting to reach him on the ground would have to climb over tons of broken concrete and twisted metal. If Mardon wanted to leave by normal methods, he would have to take the same challenging course.

  Inhaling, Mardon spread his hands. The wind gathered tightly around him, then below.

  The Weather Wizard rose into the air. The wind carried him up above Iron Heights, where he momentarily admired his handiwork. The damage he had inflicted had affected other parts of the prison. There were probably other escaped convicts, including perhaps some metahumans. Mardon really didn’t care save that it might mean more trouble for the Flash. Anything that kept the speedster distracted helped the Weather Wizard.