While on the one hand, all of these tactics made sense, especially defensively, for some reason they left the Flash warier than ever. For someone seeking vengeance, the Weather Wizard was going out of his way to keep his foe at arm’s length. It was almost as if Mardon didn’t want to fight the Flash, a peculiar notion contrary to everything Barry had seen of him so far.
What are you up to now, Mardon? the Flash pondered. Just what do you have in mind?
He stumbled slightly, this time due to his increasing exhaustion. That reminder of what else was happening to him made the Flash very briefly consider pulling back, but he knew that he could not until he at least had Joe.
“All right, Mardon,” the speedster said under his breath. “Let’s play things a little differently than we have so far.”
Still clutching the armful of hail, Barry made one swift circuit after another around the old farmhouse to judge just how much land Mardon’s fog had engulfed. It turned out to be nearly twice what he expected. Still, of the many weapons the Weather Wizard had, fog was one the Flash thought he could use against his foe.
“You like trying to keep others blind?” the Flash whispered. “Let’s find out how you fare when you’re the one that can’t see what’s coming at you…”
Taking a deep breath, Barry increased his pace several times over. As he did, he circled the outer edge of the fog. The wind caused by his speed quickly not only matched what was spreading the fog, but overcame it.
With ever-tightening circles, the Flash condensed the fog, pushing it into the farmhouse. He managed this even with most of the hail held in his arms remaining in place.
Finally, when he was nearly at the outskirts of the building itself, the Flash completed one last and very swift circle… then entered.
The fog was now so thick that the speedster could literally not see his hand in front of his face. In the Flash’s mind, that likely meant that despite the Weather Wizard’s powers, the escaped felon probably couldn’t see any better. The only way for Mardon to be able to see his foe now would be to lift the fog. If he did that, then the Flash had him where he wanted him. So near physically, Mardon would stand no chance against Barry’s speed.
Yet, thus far, there was no hint that the Weather Wizard intended to withdraw the fog. Remaining on the periphery of the interior, the Flash went from room to room to room, feeling his way along the walls while still balancing his hail in the crook of his other arm.
Still no sign. Mardon was not the type to abandon a plan so easily. He was, however, the type willing and able to stand in utter silence, awaiting his opportunity. The Flash needed only one mistake; unfortunately, the same could be said for the Weather Wizard.
Despite the risk, Barry slowed, if only slightly. Now he listened as well as raced. Mardon had to breathe. Joe had to breathe—
There was a very short burst of energy, like a tiny lightning bolt, to his left.
Someone cried out. Barry swore, recognizing Joe’s voice.
He turned in the direction of the cry—
And suddenly Clyde Mardon—not Mark—stood right in front of the Flash. Clyde.
Clyde.
The Flash backpedaled. He stared at Clyde, who stood in the speedster’s path as a vengeful spirit—
—and then was swallowed up once more by the fog.
“Cisco!” the Flash blurted. “I just saw Clyde! Cisco!”
Not only did Cisco not respond, but too late the Flash realized that he had come to an absolute halt.
The whirlwind formed around him, lifting him two feet in the air and then spinning him toward the nearest intact wall.
Barry hit the wall hard. The remains of his store of hail scattered everywhere. Stunned, he could do nothing as the wind ceased and he dropped hard on the floor.
As he struggled to regain his senses, the Flash saw a form looming over him. He looked up.
The shadowy figure of Clyde Mardon reached for him.
* * *
Staring aghast at what was happening with Caitlin and the others, at first Cisco didn’t notice the small signal coming from his usual station. However, its incessant beeping finally reminded him of his other important task.
“Barry!” Cisco tapped his headset. “Barry! Do you read me? Barry?”
Static all but deafened him in one ear.
Caitlin stirred. Waves of frost and warmth alternately washed over Cisco, stopping only when Caitlin calmed again.
Swearing quietly, Cisco tried again, “Barry? Dude, come on!”
Once again, static assailed him. Cisco was tempted to tear off the headset and throw it away, but it represented his best chance of reaching his friend.
As the second wave of static rose in intensity, Caitlin stirred once more. The frost surrounding her and her friends took on an ominous deep azure tint.
Cisco rushed to his console and called up the update. He knew that somewhere in his quick patchwork he had made a mistake. The update was functional, but not completely so.
“Come on, where are you?” He surveyed every line, looking for something that didn’t fit.
An idea popped into his head. Cisco skimmed over things again, then, shaking his head, once more uploaded everything into the device.
He turned in time to see the mechanism flicker twice. Nodding, Cisco went as close as he could to the frozen trio.
The device flickered once more.
The frost resumed its retreat.
Exhaling, Cisco eyed H.R. and Iris. Like Caitlin, they remained fixed in place. Frowning, Cisco stepped up to the very edge of the frost and studied Iris’s face.
She blinked. Only once, but she blinked.
“Iris? Iris, can you hear me?”
Iris blinked again… then began to sway.
Cisco barely moved in time to keep her from collapsing. As Iris fell into his arms, he quickly pulled her away from Caitlin and over to a chair.
“Cisco?” she whispered.
“Easy. Let me get you a coffee.”
However, barely had he straightened then H.R. also started teetering. Avoiding the frost again, Cisco came around to the other man just as he slumped.
“Easy there.” Cisco helped H.R. to another chair.
“What just happened?”
“Things got… complicated.” Cisco returned to Iris. “How are you doing?”
“Good… Except I’m still so very cold.”
Cisco’s eyes widened. “The coffee! Let me go get it. For you too, H.R.!”
“Do me a favor. Just pour it on top of me.”
He brought them both something to drink. As Iris gratefully accepted hers, she asked, “What happened?”
“The frost spread quickly. Neither of you had a chance to even notice before it took you.”
“I remember being so cold that everything went numb.” Her eyes narrowed. “How long? What happened?”
Cisco gave them a shortened version which still left both staring.
“Barry!” Iris piped up. “What about—”
“Nothing but static on the link, but the system has his vitals still going, although he’s clearly getting exhausted. I’m keeping up with both situations as best as can be done, but I need to finish with Caitlin before she has another bad turn.” He rubbed his chin. “Not sure what’s happening. Just when it seems I’ve got her back under control, it gets worse again.”
“Is it Mardon?” Iris asked.
Cisco blinked. “It’s been Mardon for everything else with her. Why not again… and why didn’t I just put that together in the first place?”
Cisco rushed back to the console. After calling up the Weather Wizard’s readings, he compared them with Caitlin’s.
“She’s in sync with his activity more than ever,” he said to the pair. Straightening, Cisco glanced back at Caitlin. The azure tint had spread over most of the frost covering her body. Cisco had no idea what that meant, but he saw now on the screen that each shift matched some fluctuation in the Weather Wizard’s use of his abiliti
es. At first, the information did nothing but verify most of what Cisco had already known or assumed about the links between the two metahumans’ abilities, but then something new occurred to him.
He tried the link. “Barry! Can you hear me?”
The static continued. Cisco no longer believed that there was simply something wrong with the equipment yet again. From the wilder and wilder fluctuations in the Weather Wizard’s readings, Mardon was up to a major use of his power. It was not only affecting Caitlin, but the connection between Barry and the lab.
Still, what he had just learned gave him hope… Although for it to work, Cisco had to rely on Barry facing off against the escaped felon.
“So much riding on you, buddy,” he muttered.
* * *
The Flash blinked, unable to believe his eyes. Clyde Mardon loomed over him. Clyde Mardon, whom the speedster knew to be dead.
Then, something even stranger occurred. Clyde Mardon lost all definition. His face distorted, separated. His body broke up into a thousand pieces that swirled around and around before dissipating.
And not even a breath later, the Flash beheld what actually hovered over him.
A whirlwind. A small tornado. It shimmered and shook and when it did the former hints of the solid figure it had once masqueraded as returned. There were even distended portions of the whirlwind where the arms would have been.
There was no ghost. There was no Clyde Mardon back from the dead. There was, however, a nearly insane man—in great part stricken with guilt and a need for vengeance—with such power that his very subconscious had pushed together something to match his desire.
The Weather Wizard had displayed no such ability when the Flash had last encountered him. Barry could only imagine that whatever surge of power had enabled Mardon to escape Iron Heights had also been responsible for this bizarre creation.
“Aren’t you going to say hello, Flash?” a voice snarled in a good imitation of the dead brother. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”
Had those same words been spoken seconds before, they would have had much more of an effect on the speedster. Now he at least had a fairly good idea who was speaking for the false Clyde.
“It’s all over for you, Mark Mardon!” the Flash emphasized. “Let me get you some help!”
“My brother’s perfectly fine!” the fake Clyde continued. “And so I’ll be, once you’ve helped bring me back!”
The Flash could scarcely believe it. That’s the point of all this? The Weather Wizard thinks he can bring his brother to life?
The whirlwind faded into the fog.
“Come on, Flash, get up and fight! We’re giving you an opportunity to stop us!”
A gust of wind raised Barry to his feet. The Flash instantly pulled away from the wind, then raced to where the voice had come from.
“That’s more like it!” the Weather Wizard added in his normal voice. “Push yourself hard! It’s the only way you’re going to defeat me… or at least maybe save the damned detective!”
A vaguely human shape materialized in the fog. The Flash closed on it.
He stumbled to a halt as he confronted Joe West. The detective was bound and bruised. He appeared to be unconscious.
“Don’t worry, Flash,” the Clyde voice commented. “He’s not too badly off. We want him to see you go before we take care of him!”
“You’ve got me here, Mardon!” the speedster called, purposely utilizing the last name so that he would satisfy either personality. “Let West go!”
“We might do that… and we might not. For now, he’s got his part to play.”
Lightning flashed in front of Barry, forcing him to momentarily shield his eyes.
Too late the Flash realized what the Weather Wizard intended. Still slightly blurry-eyed from the lightning, the Flash nevertheless tried to grab Joe. Unfortunately, he had already vanished. Barry quickly threw himself forward, hoping to catch Joe, but despite his swiftness, he found no trace of the detective.
“Going to have to try a little harder, Flash! Actually, a lot harder.”
Barry knew that the Weather Wizard was trying to egg him on, but the exact reason still escaped the speedster. Mardon clearly had so much power at his command; why did he not just use it to get his revenge?
That question sparked a plan. Rather than keep hunting for his opponent, the Flash came to another halt. Crossing his arms, he stood and waited.
It was only moments before the Weather Wizard reacted just as Barry had hoped.
“What’s the matter with you? Do what you always do! Run!”
“Move or we’ll roast the detective right here and now,” the Clyde voice warned.
“I haven’t gone anywhere,” the Flash pointed out. “I’m right here. In your domain, Mardon. All you have to do is come get me!”
A new wave of hail struck, but again, the speedster stood prepared. He darted around, simultaneously evading hundreds of hard pellets.
Just like that, the hail ceased. The Flash paused again.
“That was pretty close, Mardon,” he shouted. “Maybe the next one will get me.”
Nothing happened… just as Barry had hoped. Yes, he now had a better grasp on what the Weather Wizard desired. Mardon did not want the Flash dead, at least not immediately. More to the point, the Weather Wizard had some need for the Flash to keep moving… but why?
“You’re going to pay, Flash,” the Clyde voice growled low from Barry’s left. “You’re going to pay dearly.”
The voice came from so close by his ear that Barry reacted despite himself. Moving from spot to spot near where the Clyde voice had spoken, the Flash hunted for the speaker but found nothing.
As he slowed again, the fog crackled with more uncontrolled energy. At the same time, the speedster was overcome with a wave of exhaustion so strong that he couldn’t help groaning.
It was another perfect moment for the Weather Wizard to attack, but nothing happened. Barry tried desperately to understand. All Mardon seemed to want of his foe was for the Flash to move, to run.
The Flash did just the opposite, staying where he was and hoping to outdo the Weather Wizard when it came to patience. Barry hoped that Joe would understand why he had not yet been rescued. Unless Mardon accidentally gave the speedster a true opening where rescuing Joe was concerned, the Flash dared not do anything. He had to wait the mad metahuman out.
To his relief, Mardon finally spoke. Anger and impatience tinged his words. It was clear from the first sound that Barry now faced the Clyde personality.
“You can’t stand there forever, Flash! You’re a hero, remember? You’re supposed to save the day! Well, start with saving yourself!”
Aware of what was likely to come next, the Flash braced himself.
Whirlwinds converged on him from several sides. The Flash immediately reacted… but only enough to evade each one. Whenever there was no imminent threat, he paused again.
The whirlwinds faded, to be replaced by an even thicker fog. Barry held his place, wondering what it presaged.
The roar of thunder erupted directly over him, the actual force of it dropping him to one knee. The Flash clutched his ears and did his best to keep from being deafened.
He eyed the new hail. Gritting his teeth, the Flash uncovered his ears and raced around his location until he had every reasonably solid piece of hail. Then, with the thunder still threatening his eardrums, the speedster took a handful of hail and started throwing.
Had it been a normal person throwing, the results would have been just a few pieces tossed uselessly in various directions. For Barry, though, one handful of hail represented a volley comparable to firing off a machine gun. The Flash tossed piece after piece and when his hand was empty, seized more from those he had gathered. In this way, he cut a line across the fog-smothered room. Barry silently apologized to Joe if some of them caught him, but the speedster didn’t throw to kill even though he was quite capable of doing so.
Only when he had emptied his
store of hail did the Flash come to a new halt. The moment he did, he noticed that not only had the horrific thunder ceased, but so had much of the rest of the foul weather in and around the farmhouse. Even the fog seemed less obscuring.
Squinting, the Flash sought out any shape. Something at the edge of his vision caught his attention and he raced over to it.
Joe.
At first Barry feared that he had managed to strike down the detective after all, but a swift study showed no hint that any of the hail had hit Joe. In the hope that Joe lay bound on the ground, the speedster had tried to aim high enough so that even if Joe had been sitting up, he would have faced little risk. Any injury Barry noticed now had obviously been dealt in another manner, which meant the Weather Wizard.
Joe was breathing regularly, a discovery that pleased the Flash immensely. What did not please him was the sudden ease with which he had found the detective. There was no hint of a trap on the prone figure, but the Flash couldn’t believe Mardon would miss such an opportunity, especially since he wanted both the speedster and the detective dead.
The Flash took hold of Joe and ran.
He knew his mistake the moment he picked up the detective. Barry’s inspection of Joe’s condition had been necessary before he dared pick him up, but although it had actually taken Barry only two seconds of normal time to do everything, that human hesitation had been all that the Weather Wizard had needed.
The constant drumming sound had nothing to do with thunder this time. It was rain. Rain pouring down so hard it was as if a constant bombardment surrounded the farmhouse.
“No place to go, Flash,” Mardon’s voice declared over the din. “Unless you want to run in circles.”
It’s only rain, Barry reminded himself. Just water…
Outside, wood cracked.
Tons and tons of rain…
By himself, the Flash might have been able to rush through the torrent outside. Might. The sheer crushing volume of rain cutting off the farmhouse from the outside world made it questionable if even at his swiftest the speedster would have been able to penetrate it.
But with another in tow, Barry doubted he could make it. He didn’t worry about himself, only Joe. There was no doubt in the Flash’s mind that Joe would not make it through alive.
The Flash Page 22
