Flash Page 10

  Social media.

  On the Internet, people talked and millions listened. Every day. Somewhere out there, someone had seen Kyle Nimbus or the Mist. Iris herself had tracked the Flash, even before she knew he was Barry, using social media. She would find Nimbus, too. Her father’s life depended on it.

  Iris no longer maintained a blog dedicated to the Flash, but countless others did. His fandom had grown by leaps and bounds once he’d come out of the shadows. People became obsessed with him, or his villains, and that type of obsession could be used to her advantage.

  Her father was a detective, and Iris had always wanted to join the force. She knew investigative procedure, and while she didn’t have direct access to the police data banks, she knew what would lead her to Nimbus.

  Contacts. Family. Relationships.

  Iris had found a lead that had some potential. She came across a dive bar that Nimbus had used as a home away from home in his pre-metahuman days. Given his continued obsession with her father, Iris suspected that there were other things he couldn’t let go of. And even if he hadn’t frequented the place in a while, someone there might be able to give her some information.

  She debated calling Caitlin to go with her, but decided against it. As a precaution she texted Barry where she was going, so he’d know where to search if she went missing.

  A sudden gale blew her hair about wildly. Loose papers and napkins went flying, as well.

  “Flash!”

  Her co-workers looked up, and the murmur increased, but no one was particularly surprised. It wasn’t the first time Barry had been there in his costumed persona. She had a reputation as the newspaper’s Flash expert—it had been what got her the job.

  “Iris, what are you doing?” He stood in front of her, arms crossed and looking perturbed. Folks around them ducked under their desks to retrieve papers that had blown onto the floor.

  “Protecting my family.” She gathered her purse and moved around him toward the door.

  He stepped back in her way. “By risking your life?”

  “You do it every day,” she said simply.

  “That’s different. I’m different.”

  “Yes, but I’m not looking for a fight. I’m just following up a lead. Keeping tabs.”

  “Tabs?”

  “On the Mist. Making sure he doesn’t show up anywhere near… my dad.”

  “That’s what I’m doing,” he countered. “You don’t need to—”

  “Even you can’t watch Joe West every minute. You need help.” He opened his mouth, and Iris held up a hand. “You can argue all you want, but I’m not just sitting on my ass waiting for everyone else to play their parts while I do nothing.” She pushed her way out the door and started down the sidewalk.

  “All right, but I’m coming with you.”

  She sighed and lowered her voice. “You’re overtaxed as it is. This is supposed to help you, so you have one less thing on your plate.”

  He shot her a boyish grin. “I’m never too busy to hang with you, Iris. Come on. This’ll give me time to recharge. We can grab breakfast burritos on the way.”

  Laughing gently, Iris said, “Okay, I surrender, but when we get there, fade into the background. I’ll get more on my own.” She headed for her car while the Flash raced away. By the time she was opening the driver’s-side door, Barry was slipping his uniform under the back seat.

  * * *

  Andru’s Bar and Pool Hall sat on a corner between a motel that had seen the 1950s Sputnik 1 launch and a pawnshop that looked no larger than their living room. As they drove past a desolate strip of abandoned warehouses, traffic was thin. The pouring rain had sent most people off the streets, otherwise Iris suspected there would be more unsavory types milling about outside. Unfortunately, that meant they were probably inside. The place where you could loiter the cheapest.

  The downpour started up again as they parked the car and walked half a block to the bar, bent against the rain. When they reached the door Barry opened it like a gentleman. Iris wasn’t sure what kind of message that sent to those within. A lady who needed doors opened for her, or a lady who held some power and respect.

  She had to make sure it was the latter.

  Three men stood around a pool table inside, along with a bartender—an older woman who wiped down the bar with a cloth. She looked more menacing than her few customers.

  One of them sported a long scar down his cheek. He sunk a ball in a corner pocket. The other two stared at the newcomers—no doubt they saw a couple of suburban kids who came off as hipsters looking for dive bar authenticity. Well, they had certainly found it.

  Shaking the water from their coats, Iris and Barry went straight for the bar.

  “Scotch,” Iris demanded. “Neat.”

  Barry looked shocked. “It’s like nine o’clock in the morning.”

  The bartender gave him an exasperated glare before slamming a glass down in front of her and sloshing in a dram. Iris took a sip and gave a nod at the quality. It wasn’t half bad, considering the location.

  “You two seem a little out of place,” the woman muttered as she scanned them from head to toe. “Did the school bus break down?”

  Barry laughed too loudly. “Actually we’re looking for somebody.”

  The bartender pulled back. Iris could see her already shutting down. They had to do something, and quickly.

  “We’re looking for a murderer,” she said.

  The bartender looked doubtful, but she didn’t move any further away.

  “That’s a little heavy for this time of day.”

  Barry leaned on the bar. “It’s a heavy life.”

  Oh my Lord, Iris thought, but she kept quiet.

  The woman grunted a laugh and looked at her. “So who did this guy murder?”

  “Judge Howard, and most of the Darbinyan crime family.”

  The woman paled. “You’re talking about Kyle Nimbus.”

  Iris nodded. “He used to come here, right?”

  “You’ve done your homework, little girl. Yeah, he used to come in here, but not anymore.” The bartender returned to her work, turning away and focusing on wiping smudged glasses.

  “Did he ever talk to you?” Barry asked, keeping an eye on the other patrons.

  “Honey, everyone talks to me.”

  Iris leaned forward. “Did he ever mention—”

  “No.”

  “We’re willing to pay for the—” Iris tried.

  The woman slammed a glass heavily on the bar.

  “If you’re feeling suicidal, you can talk to Hap over there. He may know something, and be stupid enough to tell you.” She bobbed her head toward the man playing pool. The one with the scar.

  Of course, Iris mused. The man was taller than Barry and three times as wide in the shoulders. From his sullen expression, he didn’t look to be in a talkative mood.

  “Thank you.” Iris stuffed a few twenties into the empty tip jar. Barry reached out and took her arm as she moved toward Hap.

  “Why don’t you let me handle this one?”

  “Because you annoyed the bartender,” she said.

  “I’m not good with women.”

  “Well, that’s the honest truth.”

  Barry gave her a sour look, so she waved him on. “Just remember that he has a pool cue… and a scar.”

  He tried to put a hard look on his clean-cut face, and failed. Iris watched him swagger over to the pool table, or at least it looked like a swagger. Either that or he was getting ready to bust out into a dance routine.

  Hap didn’t even look up. Barry circled the pool table once, cutting into the man’s line of sight. The man’s eyes narrowed in anger.

  “If you got any body bags in your car, you might want to get ’em,” the bartender said. “They’re going to eat that boy alive.”

  Iris turned and smiled. “Well, they’ll try.”

  15

  “I just asked if you’d seen him!” Barry scurried around the far side of the table f
rom the angry man with the scar who brandished a pool cue.

  “Ain’t no damned business of yours,” the man growled. “Do I look like a damned fool? You don’t go against Kyle Nimbus just ’cause someone asks politely.”

  Iris hesitated. Barry could handle these guys in a fight, but she still needed information. So she spoke loudly enough to be heard across the room.

  “How about for money?”

  The man turned toward her, his eyes widening a bit. It was as if he hadn’t noticed her before. He folded his arms around the cue stick.

  “You got my attention.”

  “We just want to know if you’ve seen him recently and where,” she said. “It’s… personal, and you’ll be paid well.”

  “Personal? You know he’s a stone cold killer, don’t cha?” At her irritated expression, Hap laughed. “I guess you do. Tell you what, sweetheart. You beat me at pool, and we’ll have a chat.” He looked her up and down in a way she didn’t much like.

  “It’s a deal,” Iris said. Barry’s expression was priceless. He came over to her.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered. “Do you even know how to play pool?”

  “Not at all. But I know the Flash.”

  She went to the wall rack and picked out a cue. They all looked alike to her, but she tested a few for show. Finally she chose one and came back to the table. Her hands shook, and she tried to still them.

  “Nine ball.” Hap grinned at the other guys who had gathered. “I’ll give you the break, just to be a good sport, little lady. If you can run the table, I might be more talkative.”

  “What if I lose?”

  “We’ll just cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  Iris nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. One of Hap’s pals racked the balls in a tight diamond shape with the nine in the middle. Everyone was watching—even the bartender stopped her work. Iris struggled to maintain her confidence. This was for her father.

  Suddenly her nerves quieted.

  Chalking up her cue, she bent to line up her shot. The crack of the break sounded loud in the nearly empty bar. The colored balls flew around the stained felt, scattering wide, which was good. The one ball sat in a fair position. She didn’t dare miss. One slip-up and a hustler like this guy would clear the table easily. She’d never get a second chance.

  Iris glanced up at Barry and he winked at her. She positioned herself over the table, pulled the stick back, and exhaled, striking the ball as her breath stilled. She sank the first ball cleanly and almost laughed with surprise. The second and third balls slipped into their pockets with ease.

  She sent the four ball spinning off course, and she knew she was in trouble. She almost shouted. Suddenly it curved over the table in a wide arc and dropped down into its pocket almost as if it had a mind of its own.

  “Whoop!” she said, hoisting her cue.

  “What the hell was that?” Hap twisted his cue in his rough hands.

  Barry grinned casually. “That was her certified backsliding swing shot.”

  “Looked like cheating to me.”

  “That, sir,” Barry said formally, “was skill.”

  “Damn lucky,” Hap muttered.

  Yes, it was, Iris thought, and she smiled. Barry toasted her with her own drink and took a sip, then almost gagged. Hap’s face turned redder as his anger started to grow, realizing something was off, but not able to figure out what.

  Iris moved on to the five ball. Again her nerves got the best of her, and she missed the mark. That didn’t stop the cue ball from ricocheting off the rail with more momentum than it should have had. It careened off rail after rail until it struck the five again, driving it into the pocket.

  “What the hell?” Hap let out a furious yell. “No way that you had enough power to make that shot!”

  “Blind man’s bluff.”

  Hap glared at Barry. “Shut up. I’m talking to the slip here.”

  She shrugged, unaffected by his bluster.

  Barry regarded her. “Clear the table.”

  Iris couldn’t help an impish grin this time as she closed her eyes and struck the cue ball, sending it rolling. The six, the seven… Every time a ball looked as if it was going astray, it would suddenly curve toward the proper target. When the second to last ball slipped into the pocket, Hap exploded. He snatched her cue out of her hands, and examined it closely.

  “The stick came from your own rack,” Barry pointed out.

  “You still coulda done something to it. No one puts that kind of crazy spin on a ball—’specially not a girl.”

  “That’s not true, and you know it,” Iris said, crossing her arms.

  “She’s just that good,” Barry insisted.

  “If she’s that good, why haven’t I heard of her?” Hap slapped the stick back into her hands.

  “Just finish the game, Hap,” the bartender groused, “and stop your whining.”

  “You shut up, Doris!” Hap snarled.

  Iris walked around the table, sizing up her last shot. She drew the stick back through her fingers. Off to the right, Hap bumped into a small table, sending drinks crashing to the floor. The shattering of glass caused Iris to jump as she shot and the cue ball went wild, completely missing its target. She held her breath.

  Abruptly the white ball spun around the table, making full use of the wide space. It careened off the rail five times before slamming into the nine. Then the yellow-striped ball began its own dance, smacking the edge continuously until the angle was just right and it found its home in the pocket.

  We won!

  Hap slammed his hand down in a rage. Barry handed Iris back her drink, placing himself between her and her furious opponent.

  “She won,” Barry said. “Now pay up.”

  “She cheated!” Hap bellowed.

  “Hells bells, Hap!” Doris shouted from behind the bar. “I was watching the whole time, and I didn’t see nobody do nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “She had to be cheating, Doris!” the big man insisted.

  “Just tell her what she wants to know.”

  “Like hell,” Hap snarled, his voice a growl in his chest. He moved toward Iris, lifting his cue stick, the one he had never gotten a chance to use.

  Barry moved, too. Or at least he must have. Suddenly Hap’s cue stick bent forward, then snapped back, straight into his forehead. He went flying backward. Blood gushed out of a newly opened cut.

  The other men came forward. Neither of them were as large as Hap, but that didn’t make them harmless. One got tangled in Iris’s cue stick, and fell at her feet, slamming his head against the side of the table. The other went down heavily, as well, his feet slipping in spilled beer.

  It was like watching the Three Stooges, Iris thought with a suppressed chuckle. Doris had no such reserve. She threw back her head and howled in laughter.

  Barry stood over Hap as the man hunched, holding his bleeding forehead.

  “Don’t even think of laying a hand on her.”

  “All right! All right!” Hap held up a red hand.

  “Where is Kyle Nimbus?” Iris took a step closer. Any hint of humor disappeared. “What’s he up to?”

  “I don’t know. He don’t tell me his schedule, but he’s probably around for the same thing he’s been after for months now. The head of that cop who sent him up. That dude’s as good as dead.” Iris didn’t bother responding. It would be wasted breath.

  “When’s the last time he was around?”

  “Word is he was over in Danville, buying beer at Cardy’s Mart. He used to live over that way.”

  “When was this?”

  “Coupla nights ago, I think. That’s all I know.” He looked at her through slitted, bloodshot eyes. “Now give me what I’m owed.”

  Iris tossed him a hundred-dollar bill. Barry took her by the arm and steered her out the door. She lifted a hand to wave at Doris behind the bar.

  “Hell, girl, you made a boring day a lot more interesting,” the woman called out.
“Good luck.”

  Once outside, they bent into the rain-streaked wind and hustled for the car, in case the pool toughs decided to come looking for payback. Jumping in, Iris peeled out with a squeal of tires. The windshield wipers slapped full tilt, but she could still barely see through the curtain of water.

  “It’s really coming down.”

  “Danville,” Barry mused. “I’ve been through there a dozen times already in the last few days. I never saw him.”

  “Well, now we’ve got a specific place to check out.”

  “Yeah, Cardy’s Mart. I’ll head over there and see what I can find.” He shook his head. “And no, you’re not coming. Not if there’s a chance Nimbus is in the area.”

  Iris’s mouth twisted with a touch of ire. “Wasn’t going to ask. I’m going back to the office. I’ve had some search programs running all morning. They’re bound to have come up with something by now.”

  “Keep me posted on what you find out.” He scanned the area around them. “Drop me off at the next corner.” By the time they got there, he was the Flash.

  “Be careful,” Iris told him.

  “You, too.” And with that, he was gone.

  She put the car into drive and headed back to City Center.

  * * *

  The office bustled with activity. A couple of her co-workers asked her if she’d learned anything from the Flash, but she remained noncommittal, and they backed off.

  New reports came in from all over the city about flooding, power outages, and trees down across roads. Mayor Bellows scheduled a press conference for that evening, and everyone tried to surmise what the mayor would say about the developing disaster.

  Iris’s computer woke with a shake of her mouse. The screen held the results of the past few hours, but it would take a while to go through it all. She got started, digging through the numerous tweets, blog posts, and snapshots. She sent a few tweets and offered comments of her own, asking for help.

  A text popped up on her phone. It was from Barry. He hadn’t found Nimbus. She cursed and went back to what she was doing.

  Hours passed and she started to form a clearer view of Nimbus’s habits. Sometimes he was seen at a bar, other times on the street. Either as a cloud or the creepy man he was when he wasn’t toxic. Sure enough, Iris uncovered sightings that put him near Cardy’s Mart in Danville, just last night. From that, she focused her search and slowly followed a trail that led west.