“Gaining some morals, West?” asked the Weather Wizard in his normal voice. He had still made no move to face his foe. “Or just assuming the Flash will pull your bacon out of the fire? Isn’t that how you always work?”
While the rest of what Mardon said was utter trash, Joe did wonder where Barry was. He knew that the Flash would not just rush in, but would try to choose the best moment and the best attack. Still, the Weather Wizard could not be allowed to continue unchecked any longer.
“Last chance, Mardon! Surrender now!”
“You’ll have to be a little more specific!” the second voice countered. “Which Mardon?”
“There’s only you and me here, Mark! Give up this game! I’m sorry your brother’s dead, but he left me no choice!”
With slow deliberation, the Weather Wizard, his arms still raised high, finally turned. Joe wanted to fire, but Mardon had not yet given him cause.
The thunder boomed louder, shaking the very ground. In fact, Joe realized that each successive rumble was stronger, harder.
“My brother,” Mardon said very calmly, “was lost to me thanks to you and the Flash, but he’s returned to me. Now, one last step and I’ll have him back completely.” His expression contorted and in the other voice he repeated, “Completely. You said it, brother.”
Joe kept a bead on his target. Thinking quickly, he responded, “Yeah? If that’s your brother, then why is he always standing in the distance, like he doesn’t want me to see what he really looks like? How about that? He’s the one I owe, if anybody! How about he and I come face to face so I can see for myself!”
“Fine by me!” the “Clyde” voice countered.
“No!” the Weather Wizard shouted. Then, regaining his mask of calmness, he continued, “No, detective. You don’t get that honor. Maybe when you’re dead, you can come back and give your own thoughts on everything.” Mardon’s eyes narrowed. “Knew you had that thing on you all the time, by the way. Just thought I’d leave it there so you’d maybe have a false sense of security and believe that if you cooperated, you could pull a stunt like this.”
“Keep your hands where I can see them and your mouth shut!” Joe ordered yet again. “If you so much as blink wrong, I’ll be forced to shoot! I mean it, Mardon! I don’t want to do that!”
“Enough blood on your hands finally? Too late, West.”
Mardon’s right hand started to move.
This time, the detective took no chances. He fired every round. Joe prayed that if he emptied his pistol, one or more of the bullets would do their work. It was his only chance.
The bullets soared toward different points on their target. Joe had spread out his shots to potentially take out the Weather Wizard in a number of ways.
Mardon’s eyes narrowed. The ever-present wind surrounding him turned into a hurricane-force gale.
Come on! Come on! Joe urged his shots. One of you has to make it!”
A brief yet complete stillness fell over the area.
Mark Mardon smiled. In that stillness, Joe heard first one tiny thud on the ground, then another, and another and so on until there was one for every shot that the detective had fired.
The Weather Wizard chuckled. “Now that’s over, why don’t you just behave and perhaps I’ll let your daughter live, hmm?”
If Joe thought that he was expected to answer, that notion was erased as the wind shifted to toss him into the air. Joe lost his grip on the gun and watched it fly far out of reach. A moment later, he crashed into one of the remaining walls of the ruined farmhouse. The collision left him senseless for a moment.
The gusts ceased. Joe braced himself as best he could as he dropped the short distance to the ground. No sooner had he landed than the wind erupted again. It pressed him against the wall and would not let up. The pressure was so intense it was all Joe could do just to breathe.
“You’ll stay put now,” the Weather Wizard said in Clyde’s voice. “Enjoy! You’re gonna have a fine seat for everything… including my grand and glorious return to life!”
* * *
The Flash closed in on the address. Although he had every confidence in the information Cisco had passed on to him, he doubted that it would be that easy to take the Weather Wizard by surprise. The speedster watched every part of the storm around him, certain that something held another of the rogue’s tricks.
He could have kicked himself when he had heard the address. Before this, the Flash had assumed that the Weather Wizard would never go to it. After all, what was left to look at? Just memories for the most part. Terrible memories.
After all, it was where the Weather Wizard’s brother had died.
Clyde Mardon’s death remained burned vividly in the Flash’s memory. Indeed, most of the deaths he and the others had been forced to confront in stopping some of the threats to Central City remained strong in his thoughts. Barry regretted every loss, even if most of those involved—such as the younger Mardon—had clearly brought it on themselves.
But more important than any such regret was that Mardon threatened those closest to the Flash. If Barry had to sacrifice both the Weather Wizard’s and his own life to prevent anything from happening to the others, then so be it.
The Flash veered slightly to the side and started running in a huge circle encompassing the location where Clyde Mardon had died, along with the neighboring farms. He picked up speed, with each circle tightening the area in question.
The rain grew more relentless as he neared. The Flash kept an eye out for lightning strikes and hail, two of the Weather Wizard’s favored short-range assaults.
“Cisco, what’s your reading on the storm near me?”
“Two things! One, it’s stronger the closer you get to the address—”
“Uh huh. Can definitely vouch for that!”
“Yeah, but it’s the second thing that gets me! I’ve got the entire history of the storm on one side of my screen, but what I didn’t pay attention to before was that the original core of the storm didn’t begin over Iron Heights, but instead right over where you’re heading!”
“Wait? Over Clyde Mardon’s scene of death?”
“Yep.”
The Flash grimaced. “Well, that can’t be good. Keep me informed of any further changes.”
“Will do!”
Barry cut the circle tighter. The storm intensified as he did so. Curiously, the focus of this area’s madness appeared to be not the Flash, but where he was heading. The Weather Wizard had begun something, perhaps even whatever it was that he ultimately desired.
But we still don’t know what it is… The Flash doubted Mardon simply intended the ultimate destruction of Central City, although if it came about, the rogue probably would not mourn.
Tighter and tighter the circle became. In a single breath, the speedster had reduced the area by more than half. The rain proved the strongest of his obstacles, coming down so hard that the Flash could not evade it entirely. Much to his frustration, he also had to slow slightly to avoid some of the less even surfaces around him. It did not escape him that the Weather Wizard could use the soaked farmland to create traps designed to at least slow him down.
The street in front of him was now a river. Suspicious of what might lie beneath it, the Flash jumped isntead onto the country road. He couldn’t take it all the way to his destination, but for the moment, it would be useful—
Lightning struck well ahead of him—which meant right in front of him by the time it hit. Prepared, the Flash slowed enough to slip over to the other side of the road and away from the barrage.
The road crumbled beneath him, collapsing into a massive sinkhole apparently barely covered by a thin layer at the surface.
Too late he realized that Mardon had set a different trap, using the rain’s ability to seep into every crack in order to undermine this section of land. Now, the asphalt chunks were spilling into the water-filled gap with him. All he could do now was flounder and sink as what was left of the road threatened to crush him beneat
h it or at the very least drag him deep into the murky water.
* * *
The moment he had finished answering the Flash, Cisco had left his station again. With Iris and H.R. still flanking Caitlin, Cisco leaned down to investigate what was going on with Caitlin’s condition.
“Is this what happened to her before?” he asked them.
“This?” Iris gestured at the other woman. “Not exactly, but certainly the same direction. Can you do anything?”
“For anyone else I’d have relied on Caitlin for what to do. I figured something to help her relax and sleep would be safe.” He reached for the wrist device. “Hang on.”
Typing in a few instructions, Cisco returned to his station and changed over things on the monitor without paying attention to what was already on it. As soon as Caitlin’s vitals came up, Cisco scanned them for any anomalies. “Looks like maybe I should’ve given her something stronger. She’s asleep, but just barely.”
“So what does that mean?” H.R. asked.
“It means that whatever part of her subconscious is tied to her powers has been growing on that level for some time now. That explains what I thought was a mistake in the programming. It wasn’t a mistake—not exactly. I programmed it for Caitlin. I should’ve programmed it with her subconscious in mind instead. I should be able to take care of that pretty quickly.”
Iris stared at Caitlin’s pale face. “Is there anything we can do?”
“Just tell me if there are any changes, good or bad. Keep an eye out. I’m not going to trust that they’ll show up at all on my screen.”
“All right,” she replied hesitantly. “What about Barry, though?”
Cisco adjusted his headset. “I was just going to check. Hey, Barry!”
Silence filled the lab. Iris and H.R. looked at one another, then at Cisco.
“Hey, Barry!” he repeated.
“What is it?” Iris asked worriedly.
“Let me turn it up and check.” He adjusted the settings, then listened. Several tense seconds ticked by. “Static.” Cisco said. “Just like the other times. I was hoping it wouldn’t happen again, but, of course, it has.”
“So we have no contact with him? You can’t be serious! First Caitlin and now Barry?”
Cisco shrugged an apology. “It’s been happening on and off since Mardon’s escape. With all his control over lightning and such, it’s not surprising. Should take just a—”
“Uh, Cisco—” H.R. interrupted.
“What is it?” Cisco waited, but after several seconds of silence, called back, “H.R.?”
Still no reply.
Cisco finally looked over his shoulder… and gaped. “Iris! H.R.!”
He had hardly looked away—a minute at most—yet now frost coated everything around Caitlin. The table, the attached equipment, the surrounding floor… all of it glistened with a fine coat of frost.
But that was not what put such an expression of fear and dismay on Cisco’s face. What did was what had happened to both Iris and H.R. The pair stood utterly motionless next to Caitlin, their gazes still on Cisco… and their bodies covered in frost.
16
“No…” Caught up by the horrific spectacle, Cisco almost inadvertently touched H.R. on the shoulder, only thinking about what might happen if he did at the last moment. He did not want to become part of the monstrous tableau. Nor, though, could he leave his friends in such a condition. It was possible that they were experiencing a cryogenic situation—something the group had come across in the past—but just as possible was the danger that they were quickly freezing to death. Either way, Cisco had to work fast.
He eyed the device. Coming around, Cisco reached for it… only to hesitate again. The layer of frost covering it looked brittle enough to break, but again Cisco wondered whether or not he would simply trap himself.
“Remote!” he blurted, slapping his forehead. “Do it by remote, you genius.”
He quickly set up things on the screen, then considered. Nodding, Cisco went back to the device to see what, if any, changes had occurred in the system. After verifying everything with the data on the screen, Cisco realized that his best bet was to keep going back and forth between his station and the device, thus enabling him to continually verify that the data and programming he fed into the latter were actually being accepted. He had already come to realize that not all the data he was sending was actually reaching the device. Cisco knew that would mean he would have to be ready to modify the programs in progress at a moment’s notice.
As he returned to his station again, he tried one last time to contact the Flash. “Barry! Dude! Can you hear me? Barry! Can you hear me?”
He received no response in return. Cisco adjusted the system, but only received more static.
“I’ll take care of you right after, buddy,” he muttered. “I promise!” He knew that the Flash would have readily agreed with his decision, but it still left Cisco with a sour taste. They were all his friends. No matter how good the reason, it now came down to him having to seemingly abandon one friend for another, something that went against the grain.
“Just do something!” Cisco muttered to himself. He switched everything over to Caitlin’s records and quickly pored over her vitals. Most registered as he had expected, low and slow. One caught his attention, however. The hypothalamus was giving off strong readings. Indeed, its activity appeared to be increasing with each passing moment, something that Cisco had not noticed in previous periods.
Rubbing his chin, Cisco brought up earlier data involving Caitlin’s hypothalamus. As the first numbers popped up, he grimaced at the revelation. Caught up in monitoring so many other aspects of metahuman biology, Cisco and the others had not really looked over the hypothalamus as much as they had other parts of the brain.
“Well, we’re changing that now,” he growled under his breath. The new data gave him a good idea of why the device had begun to fail Caitlin. Cisco’s machine had been designed to counter other functions of her brain. He had completely ignored the hypothalamus, which, among other things, controlled many of the very basic functions of the brain. Emotional things. Desires. Simple needs.
Cisco started plugging in numbers, quickly running several scenarios. Unfortunately, none of them showed that reprogramming the device accordingly would compensate for Caitlin’s stirring powers.
He peered over his shoulder at the trio… and gritted his teeth as he saw the frost spreading farther. Now it covered the tables, equipment, and floor for more than three yards in any direction. In fact, Cisco could actually see it actively expanding, especially, it seemed, toward him.
“Not good.” With the frost to spur him on, Cisco plugged in new numbers and ran more scenarios. All came up as utter failures. The defeats didn’t surprise him; Caitlin would have better understood a situation involving the hypothalamus; Cisco was a programmer at heart, not an anatomist.
Still, all his work with Barry had not left him ignorant of the brain and its functions, nor where he might quickly get more necessary knowledge. Cisco called up several pages replete with diagrams. He ran a finger across the screen as he followed the details of one in particular.
“That could be it,” he whispered, pulling his collar tight against the cold. “Maybe if I—”
It suddenly sank in that he should not have been so cold.
Cisco leaped away from his station as frost spread rapidly over the spot he had just vacated. It coursed up his chair, covering the piece of furniture seconds later. All along, the change was accompanied by a sinister crackling sound as the frost took hold.
Taking a stapler from the work station, Cisco leaned over and struck the frost all over his seat. The frost gave way with a satisfying crunch. Cisco grinned in satisfaction and moved to sweep the pieces aside.
The shattered frost mended together, quickly growing into one solid mass again.
Growling, he brought the stapler down again. This time, it didn’t even crack the frost, and when Cisco raised it ag
ain, it was to discover a dent.
He glanced at Caitlin and the others, but saw no change in any of them. Still, Cisco could not deny what else he was seeing. The frost had spread specifically in his direction. Worse, he now saw it moving in a path that would, in seconds, leave him with no path out.
Cisco put aside the useless and now damaged stapler. Grabbing his phone, he skirted around the encroaching frost. He grunted in dismay as it took an immediate turn after him. It’s following! he realized.
Barreling through the doors, Cisco flattened back against the wall opposite the main lab. For a moment, he stood there catching his breath and silently reminding himself to get back on an exercise regimen should he make it through this alive.
A slight crackling sound arose from the lab, a sound that drew closer to the doors through which he’d just run. Cisco took a look down both ends of the hall, then ran down the one leading to the smaller lab Caitlin had once disappeared into. At the doorway, he paused to listen for anything inside before slipping through.
Compared to the main lab, this one was toasty. Too hot, in fact. Cisco checked the thermostat and discovered the heat not only on, but very high. He had to assume that one of his friends had set it so due to the previous incidents with Caitlin… Perhaps even Caitlin herself in one of her lucid times.
Cisco started to change the temperature, then thought better of it. If, as he feared, the frost was still following after, even a second or two extra might be enough to buy him the time he needed to find an answer.
Darting over to one of the unused stations, Cisco flicked on the computer. The moment it was up, he started calling up the programs and data.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered. “Why the heck didn’t we upgrade these machines when we did the ones in the main lab? Might as well be running on Commodore 64s…” Despite the overall excellent capability of the computer before him, compared to his usual station things seemed to take forever. Cisco kept eyeing the doorway, watching for telltale signs of the spreading frost.
At last he had everything set up on the screen. Unfortunately, that was the simple part, he knew. Cisco now had to remotely correct for everything he had learned and hope that he could then relay the update to the device.
The Flash Page 20
