He grabbed “Clyde”—
—And his hand went straight through him. Momentum kept the speedster stumbling along for several yards.
“Kind of hard to grab a ghost, isn’t it?” the Weather Wizard mocked in his “Clyde” voice. “Maybe you should’ve thought about that when you got me killed!”
“You were never killed because you never lived!” the Flash replied. “Mardon! Can’t you see what you’re doing! This isn’t your brother! This is some construct you’ve created!”
“Going to have to do better than that, Flash! My brother and I, we’re of one mind, you might say!” As always, the changing voice came with a distinct alteration in the expression. The Flash couldn’t exactly recall the idiosyncrasies of Clyde Mardon’s mannerisms, but had no doubt that this other personality mimicked them perfectly.
In response, the Flash darted back. His target was not the fake Clyde, though, but rather Joe. The speedster hoped that the Weather Wizard would remain distracted long enough for the Flash to rescue Joe and get him far away.
But before Barry could reach Joe, the detective shot into the air again, hovering just out of reach.
“Knew you’d try that,” false Clyde sneered. “You’re staying right here until we’re done with you.”
The false Clyde form already had a hand stretched toward where the Flash had ended up.
A dust storm engulfed the Flash. Mardon had by now become expert in calculating where the speedster would have to pause. The Flash expected the Weather Wizard to crow over his success, but Mardon remained oddly silent, leaving only the Clyde persona for Barry to try to deal with… assuming the Flash could escape the dust storm.
Barry quickly discovered that escaping was the least of his troubles. The whirlwind that was the basis of the dust storm kept accelerating. The increased spinning drew up more dirt, which in turn thickened around the speedster’s face, and he began coughing as dirt invaded his lungs. He quickly shut his mouth and did his best to hold his breath. The whirlwind pressed at him on all sides in what appeared to be an attempt to either smother or crush the speedster.
In response, the Flash matched the whirlwind’s spinning, using the very thing attacking him to magnify his efforts. Faster and faster the Flash spun.
When he knew he spun fast enough, Barry dug one toe into the ground. Then he began kicking the dirt he loosened outward so that it got caught on the edges of the whirlwind and then flew beyond.
A deluge of dirt flew in every direction, including where the Weather Wizard stood.
Mardon—or whichever persona currently controlled him—instinctively ducked the onslaught.
The dust storm faltered.
The Flash burst through the side. As he did, the dust storm lost cohesion.
Without hesitation, the speedster raced through “Clyde”, tearing into him.
Barry quickly discovered a thick layer of dust particles and refuse inside. Despite his best efforts, those layers fought to stay together.
Seizing a handful, the Flash continued out the other side of “Clyde”, racing to a spot far from the Weather Wizard. There he paused to inspect his prize.
Most of the clump proved to be earth, twigs, and crumbs. Barry tore through the rest, but found nothing out of the ordinary. That left the Flash with only one theory. The clumps had been added to give the false Clyde more substance. It could also be spread and shaped to add some detail to the body. In this manner, it had enabled the “Clyde” to look human from a distance or in the dark.
This verified to the Flash that the conscious Mark Mardon was, ironically, almost as innocent as the rest concerning the Clyde persona. Once more, Barry was reminded of what he and Cisco had discussed about Iron Heights and its experimental devices designed to keep the Weather Wizard nullified. Barry had no doubt now that much of what had changed in Mardon’s head had done so while the metahuman had been asleep.
“I’ve got to get him to understand all this,” the speedster muttered to himself. Thus far, Mardon seemed perfectly happy to accept matters as they appeared. And why not? Here Mardon was offered his brother back from the dead.
The inspection had taken no more than the blink of an eye. Abandoning the clump, the Flash returned to his adversary, more determined than ever to at least rescue Joe from what was clearly an insane enemy. So long as Joe remained the Weather Wizard’s captive, the Flash’s hands were tied.
The Weather Wizard remained protected by a series of storm elements that Barry could not infiltrate without being dangerously slowed. Then, all it would take from Mardon would be an expertly positioned bolt of lightning—
An idea formed. The speedster grunted. Maybe it’ll work. It’ll probably be painful, but if it works…
False Clyde stood ready to face him. Barry decreased his speed just enough to allow the Weather Wizard to be able to better focus on him. The Flash noticed a new shift in Mardon’s features and wondered what that might mean.
“That’s it, Flash,” the Clyde persona urged. “Just keep it up. We’re almost there.”
False Clyde’s voice was extremely calm, a direct contrast to the physical appearance of the Weather Wizard at this moment.
“Almost where?” the Flash countered. “What do you need, Mardon?”
“He just needs you to be you,” false Clyde continued. “Can’t you feel that? Aren’t you ready to sleep? You must be getting tired, hmm?”
The Flash couldn’t argue with that. Indeed, Barry had been trying his best not to think of his growing weariness. Yet there could be no rest, no pause. One misstep might mean catastrophe for not only Joe, but the rest of Central City.
He noticed the subtle shift in the Weather Wizard’s expression. Whichever personality controlled him now did not matter. Both had only one thing in mind for the Flash.
That made it no difficult choice when it came to reacting. The Flash turned on his heels just as the landscape before him exploded.
The bolts ravaged the area directly between the Flash and his opponent. Great chunks of earth, some of them massive, flew up into the air.
Twisting around, the Flash leaped atop one and raced up a precarious path toward Joe.
He snagged the still-unconscious detective from where the wind held him, then descended using the now-plummeting fragments from the lightning strike. Barry had banked on both personalities relying on one of the Weather Wizard’s favorite weapons.
Alighting on the ground, Barry tried to carry Joe off. However, just as he had become fairly good at calculating his adversary’s next move, so too, evidently, had Mardon.
Another powerful wind erupted in front of the Flash: hurricane wind.
Barry and Joe flew backward into the air. The powerful gust sent them rushing back to the Weather Wizard.
But Barry had been expecting this from the start. Still holding onto Joe, he turned and with his other hand threw the large rock he had grabbed from the fragments tossed up by the latest lightning.
“Ungh!” Mardon toppled back as the rock hit him squarely on the forehead, dropping hard on the ground.
The wind ceased. Clutching Joe with both hands now, the Flash braced himself for the collision with the ground.
It proved to be a softer landing than Barry expected. He was briefly jolted, but otherwise didn’t suffer.
His first action was to quickly inspect Joe again. Finding nothing more amiss, the speedster turned.
Mark Mardon still lay unconscious. The storm continued to rage around them, although the Flash noted the unnerving fact that the region around the Weather Wizard—a region that still encompassed Barry and Joe—continued to be free of direct rainfall. While certainly welcome in one way, the fact that this element of the Weather Wizard’s power continued to manifest itself was somewhat unnerving.
But not nearly as unnerving as belatedly noticing that the ominous figure of “Clyde” stared at him.
Just your imagination, Barry finally told himself. Without Mardon, that thing is nothing. Nothing.
/>
This was his chance. The Flash pulled out a pair of the special cuffs designed specifically for holding metahumans. He reached for his fallen foe—
False Clyde transformed, losing all evidence of a human shape and becoming another whirlwind. That revelation in itself didn’t entirely surprise the Flash after his previous encounter with the false brother, but what happened next did.
The whirlwind faded away—only to re-form directly in front of the Flash.
More unnerving yet, in that same instant it returned to the semblance of Clyde Mardon… and grinned evilly at the speedster.
Uh oh … was as far as Barry got.
The rumble of thunder was so sudden and so intense that the Flash’s instinctive response was to cover his ears. However, that did little to protect him against the quake created by the ear-splitting sound. Rocked by it, the speedster lost his footing.
It took him only a moment to regain it, but in that short space of time “Clyde” had swollen in size. The animated whirlwind—the Flash could think of it as nothing else—continued to wear the guise of Clyde Mardon, but a guise more and more distorted as the whirlwind grew. Yet always the eyes remained consistently on Barry, eyes that were and were not human.
“You’ll pay for killing me!” False Clyde roared… only, as before, the true origin of the voice belonged with the Weather Wizard.
The Weather Wizard, by all estimations, was still very, very unconscious. Yet his mouth moved and words spilled forth. Somewhat slurred words, but words with meaning nonetheless.
“You’ll pay for killing me,” repeated “Clyde”, the distorted figure acting out the words with a threatening stance.
The Flash tried to go around the false Clyde in order to reach the Weather Wizard. If Barry could reach Mardon, there was a good chance that he could get the unconscious rogue to dismiss this manifestation of what had to be Mardon’s subconscious as affected by the system set up at Iron Heights.
But as swiftly as the Flash moved, “Clyde” moved even quicker. He not only blocked the speedster again, but with him came a rush of wind and a brief barrage of lightning that kept the Flash at bay.
And all the while, all very evident to Barry, was the fact that the storm, rather than abating, had started to grow stronger again. Stronger and more violent. The Flash heard the renewed thunder and saw bolt after bolt strike within Central City. There was nothing natural about it either, nothing that did not make him think that it was due to his fallen adversary. Even unconscious, the Weather Wizard had reached the point where his very existence meant danger to anyone around him.
Out of desperation, he shouted as loud as he could: “Mardon! Wake up! You don’t want this! This isn’t Clyde: Clyde is dead!”
The Weather Wizard stirred, but did not wake.
“Clyde”, on the other hand, reacted by pointing one hand at the Flash. The speedster immediately dodged… only to see nothing happen.
A moment later, the hailstorm struck him from behind.
“Aaargh!” The force with which it hit threw the Flash forward. As usual, the padded suit protected him to a point, but not enough to keep him from collapsing to the ground, stunned and pained.
“I am alive!” the false Clyde declared to the Flash, his words slurred as they erupted from the Weather Wizard’s slack mouth.
The storm surged, growing especially violent around them. The more violent the storm, the more distorted “Clyde” became. His body rippled and stretched. Now and then, pieces—a leg, an arm, his head—would briefly give way to swirling winds in which the fragments of body would spin about before reconstructing.
“I am alive…” continued the phantasm. “I am alive… which is more than you’ll be able to say for much longer…”
20
It had been a struggle feigning unconsciousness for even the past couple of minutes, but somehow Joe had managed. It had been bad enough waking in the middle of the air in the midst of what had turned out to be a fight between Barry and the Weather Wizard, but at least twice Joe had nearly been knocked back into oblivion thanks to Mardon’s purposely reckless handling of the detective.
Joe began to wonder if it had been at all worth it to be awake. Not only was he drenched—the Weather Wizard had not bothered to extend his protection to where he had finally dumped him—but he couldn’t undo his bonds, which meant that he couldn’t do anything to help Barry.
There’s got to be some way out of this, Joe thought with much frustration. If not for him than at least for Barry. The world needed Barry. Iris needed Barry. It was not that his daughter was not strong, but in finding Barry—and he finding her—a part of Iris Joe had never seen had awakened. A wonderful part that he knew he wanted—no, needed—to remain with her when fate finally did take him from her.
But that was for another time. Now Joe had to find some way to at least loosen his bonds.
Barely had he thought it than the ropes did indeed loosen. Joe marveled at this miracle until a familiar voice whispered in his ear.
“Just relax,” Wally murmured. “Don’t know what he did with these, but I’ll get them undone soon enough, I swear.”
“Get out of here,” Joe muttered back. “Go on!”
“Not until you’re safe. Now hold still.” Wally tugged at the bonds. “And just in case, knowing you, I brought some extra insurance.”
“Wally—”
“Quiet now. This guy has a thing with knots that being super swift isn’t helping with much.”
Joe let out a low growl, but said nothing more. Instead, Joe started praying that Wally would either figure out the Weather Wizard’s knots or finally have the good sense to leave.
Lightning flared, lightning so obviously nearby that it could only have been summoned by Mardon. The lightning continued unabated for several seconds, further fueling Joe’s concerns for Barry.
“Wally… What’s happening? Can you see Barry? Is he all right?”
“Almost got it. Hang on. I’ll seeee—aaaargh!”
Joe felt as well as heard the titanic explosion as another bolt hit just beyond where he lay. Not only did the lightning bring down his son, but it also threw him past the detective. Joe could do nothing as it happened save pray Wally would be all right. He silently cursed at the Weather Wizard, cursed at his own carelessness, and even cursed the damned ropes.
He felt the ropes loosen more.
Joe made no sound or movement that could be noticed by anyone. He gingerly felt the ropes to verify that Wally had managed to indeed slightly undo some of them.
Good man! Joe thought to his son. He tried to think optimistically about Wally even though there had been no sound since the lightning bolt. What he would do if he freed himself, the detective couldn’t say. Over the course of his career, he had many times been forced to improvise on the job. He would do so now, whatever it took.
He shifted slightly… and stared. Wally was out of his sight, but something he had clearly dropped when he was hit lay just out of arm’s reach.
And just in case, knowing you, I brought some extra insurance, Wally had said.
Joe smiled grimly, thinking in great part of Wally’s potential sacrifice. Wally had indeed thought ahead. The odds were still against the detective, but they had just gotten a whole lot better…
* * *
At first the Flash had not quite understood what had happened. Although facing Barry, the false Clyde had suddenly apparently unleashed elements of the storm on something else nearby.
No. Not something. Someone.
“Joe!” the speedster blurted. The foul weather had prevented him from seeing exactly where Joe had been deposited, but Barr0y had no idea who or what else would have been targeted by the Weather Wizard’s power.
The very thought that a helpless captive would still suffer the rogue’s fury enraged the Flash. He wanted to race past his foe and see to Joe, but he knew that was probably just what Mardon wanted.
Mardon. Barry had faced a variety of bizarre adversaries, b
ut nothing like what stood before him. The Weather Wizard lay unconscious, yet some part of his consciousness not only functioned, but even seemed attuned to what was happening around them.
Even now, “Clyde” kept watch on the Flash. The murky, sometimes distorted figure made no move, no sound. The only time he had shifted since responding to the speedster with his outburst about being alive had been when Barry quickly regained his footing after the trick with the hail. The false Clyde had instantly adjusted his stance and the surrounding weather had darkened dangerously.
It’s as if Mardon himself stood before me, eyes wide open, mind still in tune with the entire storm—
Could it be? The Flash raised one hand.
“Clyde” instantly shifted.
“Uh oh.”
The Flash moved just in time. Five, ten, twenty bolts left the area where he had been standing a charred ruin. Even as swift as the Flash was, the bolts had come exceedingly close to hitting him. It was almost as if the Weather Wizard had a better sense of what was happening now than when conscious.
But that’s impossible… Isn’t it?
“Cisco, you hear me?”
“I do. Listen, Mardon’s getting entirely unstable! If you can’t quickly convince him of the danger he represents to himself much less us, he could literally explode—”
“Cisco, hang on! How’re his readings right now?”
“Going through the roof! He’s one step from going nuke!”
The Flash frowned. “Cisco, he’s unconscious. I repeat. Mark Mardon is unconscious, but, if anything, he seems to still know what’s going on and is reacting through ‘Clyde’ and the storm itself!”
“Barry, that’s crazy!”
“I know, but how else to explain what’s going on? Cisco, ‘Clyde’ is just standing there, almost as if he won’t do a thing unless I do!”
There was an uncomfortable moment of quiet on the other end, then… “Wish it was that simple! We’ve got a big problem! It doesn’t matter if Mardon’s unconscious or not! Looks like whatever he was doing to draw out power from both you and storm are still going on, but at an accelerating pace!”
The Flash Page 25
