Flash Read online

  Barry straightened, pulling back his hunched shoulders. For a moment the weight lifted. Oliver’s praise was better than any drug Caitlin could pump into him.

  “Thank you. That means a lot.”

  “We’ll take down your rogues,” Oliver told him, and Barry believed him. “You’re not in this alone any longer. John and I will patrol tonight.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Barry said quickly, “and show you the grid pattern I’ve been—”

  Oliver’s head tilted with that stare.

  “Oh.” Barry backpedaled. “I mean, I’ll go home and rest.”

  Oliver straightened off the windowsill. “We’ll call you if we need backup.”

  “It’s just hard.” Barry breathed out a sigh of relief. “You know, stopping?”

  “Even we can’t be there twenty-four seven.”

  “Yeah?” Barry said, a hint of a smile playing across his face. “When was the last time you took a vacation?”

  The deep furrows of Oliver’s brow relaxed, and the tightness of the jaw lessened. His entire face went from hard-edged crime fighter to ordinary friend.

  “Well, I once spent a lot of time lounging on a Pacific island. Now that I’m back, I prefer to stay at work.” He paused, then added, “I do go away, though. I’ve taken time to recharge. It helps when you have someone like Felicity pushing you to go, and the fact that I have her with me makes me want to do so.”

  “I’ll swap with you. I’ll go with Felicity, and you go fishing with Joe. Probably in the snow or something.”

  “Spending time with family is a wonderful thing,” Oliver replied. “I miss those days.”

  “Oh, man, I’m sorry, Oliver.” Barry winced. “I didn’t mean, that is, I shouldn’t have… I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I was making a point. Enjoy the people in your life while you can. You never know when it will change.”

  Barry sighed miserably. “That’s why I feel the need to run all the time. I don’t want it to change, for anyone. You know, every time I save somebody, even if it’s the tenth rescue of my day, it’s their moment of truth. It’s their turning point. I have to be there for every one of them. I have to run fast enough to do that, to do it every time.”

  He suddenly had a thought that wasn’t quite a thought.

  A flash of lightning lit across his brain, so fast it couldn’t be seen, but as bright as day and vivid for the split second it existed.

  “What?” Oliver asked. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know.” Barry took hold of the chain again. “Something just occurred to me. The first time I noticed even a hint of the blurring was during a routine rescue on the highway. Well, routine for me. Like I said, it was life or death for them. But I saved a woman who was about to die in her car, and I could see in her eyes that she knew she was about to die.

  “Yet all she could think about was her son in the back seat. She wasn’t trying to save herself. She was turning around to help her son. Just like my mom did.”

  “Your mom?”

  “The night she was murdered by Reverse Flash. I was eleven, and I came into the room and saw her in the middle of these streaks of yellow and red lightning. I didn’t know then, but it was Reverse Flash and the Flash—me—fighting. Mom couldn’t know what it was, just that it was dangerous, and she held out her hand to keep me from running over to her. The only thing she cared about was protecting me.” Barry looked at Oliver. “Just like Lily did with her son, Dean. If I hadn’t been there, or if I had been a split second slower, that boy would’ve been just like me. His whole life would’ve changed in an instant, like a bolt of lightning.”

  “But you were there.”

  “That time. For that mom and that kid.”

  Oliver took a long silent moment. “Are you living your life to prevent something that’s already happened?”

  Barry just clutched a file and stared off into space.

  “That’s a hard way to go, Barry.” Oliver shifted uneasily from one foot to the other. The creak of leather echoed in the high-ceilinged room. “I’ve lost some good people, people I loved. Tommy Merlyn, both of my parents, and others. I lose count. People who died fighting my war.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true.”

  “The point is we can’t save everyone. We have to learn to soldier on.”

  “I don’t feel like a soldier, but I’ll do anything to be sure I don’t lose anyone else, no matter what it costs me.”

  “Not tonight, though.” Oliver narrowed his eyes. “I’ll cover for you tonight.”

  “All right.” Barry fell heavily into a chair and hung his head. His arms and legs dragged like dead iron. He felt like he could rest for the first time in a very long time. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure.”

  27

  Their vacation home was becoming more like a prison. It wasn’t just the trash. On a certain level the garbage, the filthy clothes, and the old food all made it feel real, and as long as Shawna could get away from it occasionally, she didn’t mind roughing it.

  This was getting a little too rough, however.

  Even the relief that had come from associating with Rathaway had faltered. They hadn’t played chess since returning from the observatory. In fact, she rarely saw him at all, though his presence was marked by the weird sounds coming from the makeshift laboratory he’d set up, in what had been an extensive wine cellar. The noises that filtered up set her teeth on edge.

  Shawna stood at the large window, enacting her daily ritual of watching the light of the sunrise play over the lake. The once-pristine glass was smudged and filthy. Even the beautiful oranges and yellows reaching up to shatter the darkness couldn’t dredge up the comfort it had just a week ago.

  Behind her, Mardon snored on the sofa that had gone from a comfortable piece to a stained flop. She heard Bivolo and Nimbus come into the room.

  “Is that coffee?” Nimbus croaked. “I need coffee.”

  In the reflection, his ratlike gaze locked on the steaming cup in her hand. She wasn’t supposed to teleport out for coffee, but that hadn’t stopped her. There was no coffee in the house, barely any food. No one bothered to restock—except for Nimbus who occasionally brought back beer and liquor.

  “You went out,” Nimbus growled. “You can’t go out. I get yelled at when I go out. Why don’t you? It can’t be because Rathaway likes you. He’d rather have Mardon.” Nimbus chuckled at his juvenile wit.

  Shawna drifted down to the corner to be farther away from him.

  “You try to kill cops when you go out. Idiot.” She slurped her coffee as loud as she could.

  “Call me an idiot again!” Nimbus bellowed. “I dare you. One more time. Just one more.” Mardon’s snoring stopped, and he awoke with a grunt.

  Shawna turned and drew her shoulders back. Bivolo waited with a smile on his lips. Before she could speak, however, Mardon rose up from the sofa.

  “Will you two shut the hell up! I’m trying to sleep.” Dark circles rimmed his eyes and his typically chiseled features were sunken and sallow. His hair was unkempt and his beard untrimmed. “I’m working my damn butt off. Is it too much to expect a little peace and quiet? There’s a whole damn house to fight in, and you gotta come in here.”

  Bivolo laughed at that.

  Shawna might have felt sorry for Mardon. He had a bad boy style she had always liked. She might have even fallen for him in her younger days.

  “You shut up!” she shouted back. “You wanna sleep, go find a room upstairs. There’s plenty of them. And what’s this ‘working your butt off’ crap? I carry all you creeps around every day. Without me, the Flash would’ve slapped all of you like the little girls you are.”

  Bivolo laughed again, louder this time. Nimbus looked expectantly at Mardon, who only blinked dully before falling back onto the sofa with a groan.

  “Yeah,” Shawna snarled. “That’s what I thought.”

  The door opened and Rathaway entered, preoccupied and then su
rprised.

  “You’re all here? Good.” He had papers in his hand—the now-dreaded daily agendas for each of them. He handed everyone a sheet and turned to leave without another word.

  Shawna scanned hers with the annoyance of a retail employee finding herself scheduled for the fifth weekend in a row. He had her ferrying Bivolo to three locations today, and the route he’d laid out was grueling. Worse, she’d have to be back by dark to take Mardon out.

  “No!” Mardon crumpled the paper, swung his feet onto the littered rug, and crouched on the edge of the sofa. He massaged his neck and tossed the wadded sheet across the room. “This is it, Rathaway. I’m done with your cute little schedules. I’m done with getting moved around like a piece of furniture. And I’m done with the whole damn operation unless something changes. Right now!”

  Nimbus nodded eagerly in agreement, sidling over to stand near Mardon, but not saying anything.

  Rathaway exhaled impatiently.

  “What now, Mardon?” he demanded. “I don’t have time for your tantrums. My work is at an important stage.”

  Mardon pushed himself up, regaining a little of his old swagger.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about your ‘work.’ You listen to me for a minute. You went to the mayor almost a week ago, and you said he was about to give in, but then the Flash showed up. So we cranked it up. You said that would break him—but it hasn’t!

  “I come back from a mission and I can barely walk. I’m exhausted, Rathaway. I don’t wear gloves to do my work. I control the weather…” He slapped his chest. “…with this. It’s me. My body. My brain. I can’t keep this up, and without me, you got nothing. So I’m gonna make the schedule now. We’re gonna change it up.”

  Rathaway waited silently, not even trying to hide his contempt. Mardon paused as if expecting an argument. When it didn’t come, he continued.

  “Look, the mayor and his people obviously aren’t afraid of you. They figure you’ll just keep playing your game until the Flash saves them. Give him enough time, and he can check every house in Central City. It’s crazy he hasn’t found us already.”

  He paused. Rathaway just stood there.

  “Yeah, so…” Mardon continued. “We need to remind the mayor who he’s dealing with here. We’ve got to make him hurt.”

  “Yeah!” Nimbus shouted. “Let’s kill the mayor!”

  “No.” Mardon rolled his eyes. “He’s the guy we’re bargaining with—the guy with the money. But Bellows will cave, once we show him how much it’ll cost to keep stonewalling us. We don’t kill him, but we need to kill someone else. Maybe a lot of someone elses.”

  Nimbus cackled and slapped Mardon on the back. Bivolo perched on the arm of the sofa. He wasn’t laughing now, and his emotions were unclear behind his sunglasses.

  Shawna looked at Rathaway. Waited for him to say something smart. This was a horrifying idea. He had to put the genie back in the bottle.

  With every silent second that passed, she felt perspiration on her neck.

  “What do you have in mind?” Rathaway asked.

  Shawna breathed hard through her nose, and fought with herself not to get too upset. Not yet. Rathaway was playing them, like he always did. This was another ploy, stringing Mardon along. It had to be.

  Mardon showed new confidence. “Well, I had this idea before, but never got around to it,” he said. “You know the Cary Reservoir Dam?”

  “Yes,” Rathaway replied.

  “It’s an old dam, and it wouldn’t take much to break it. If I drop ten or fifteen inches of rain into the lake, the thing will bust wide open—as long as no one opens the flood gates to relieve the pressure.” Mardon stood up, invigorated by his growing influence in the room. “There’s an old town in the flood path. It’s been there forever, but it’s part of Central City now. Mainly poor people. I know. I used to live there.” He sneered quietly to himself. “That dam breaks and a couple hundred people might get killed. Plus, the city will lose the power they generate at the dam, and the water from the reservoir. We’ll make it bad enough to get the mayor to cave.”

  Rathaway pursed his lips. “It’s just poor people, after all,” he said, and he gave a slow nod.

  Mardon grinned. “Right. Now you understand. We let Bellows know that the next time, it’ll be a couple hundred of his rich pals who get it. Just so he knows we’re willing to do what it takes.”

  Rathaway thought for a few seconds.

  “Fine,” he said. “Do it. Take Bivolo to disrupt any workers who might be around. All I ask is that you work up a timetable, so I can look at it before you go.” He held up his hand to stanch any argument. “Just so I can plan the approach, to minimize our exposure. I’ve kept the heat off up to now, and intend to continue doing so.”

  “Yeah, all right.” Mardon nodded back. So did Bivolo. “But it needs to happen soon. Don’t put it off, or we’ll go off and run our own operation.”

  “Agreed,” Rathaway said. “The sooner the better.”

  “No!” Shawna dragged the word out of her gut. “No. I won’t do this.”

  Mardon glanced over his shoulder to look at her with contempt.

  “What do you need to do?” he said. “Carry us up, and stand around till we’re done. Even for you, that’s not much work.”

  “I won’t help you kill hundreds of people!” Shawna yelled, and she looked at Rathaway with pleading eyes. “It’s mass murder. You can’t let them do this.”

  “I can.” Rathaway stared at her. “I will. And you will help them.”

  “No. I won’t. You can’t make me.”

  “You’re right.” Rathaway narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin. “I never really thought of that. I can’t make you.”

  Mardon scowled at her. “Skip it. We don’t need her. Send Nimbus across town to create a diversion, keep the Flash and the cops busy.”

  Nimbus grinned. “I can do that.”

  “But—” Shawna began.

  Rathaway looked at her, his face unreadable, before shifting to Mardon.

  “Bring me a plan by tonight.” He walked out of the room.

  Shawna felt her face redden. Rage surged through her body, compounded by a strange sense of embarrassment. She couldn’t shake the feeling she was failing, and coiled up in that emotion was the panic of abandonment. They had put her on the outside now.

  She started after Rathaway, when she heard Nimbus laughing, causing her to whirl on him.

  “You want coffee, you stinking monster? Here!” She raised the heavy mug. Both Mardon and Bivolo ducked out of the way. She hurled it at Nimbus, but he puffed into green gas so it merely passed through and shattered the sunrise behind him into a spider-web of fractured glass.

  The three men laughed as she stormed from the room.

  28

  Pleasant weather put everyone in town on edge. Any second, they assumed, a tornado would appear. Or torrential rains would wash cars into the river. Or lightning would set fires. Or hail would smash windows.

  It had to happen, Iris mused. It seemed like it happened every day in Central City.

  At least Barry had actually slept in his own bed for once, and he desperately needed it. Oliver Queen’s arrival had made that possible, and she was grateful.

  Her dad sat in on a meeting with Mayor Bellows, and the news from City Hall was grim. No surprise, Central City was suffering massive infrastructure loss. Roads washed out. Bridges collapsed. More than five thousand people who had been evacuated from their homes huddled in shelters. The farmland just outside of the city was impacted, as well. An important wheat crop was going to be ruined, because no one could plant.

  Frantic calls from county officials and the governor’s office bombarded the mayor. A few units of the National Guard had arrived for swift-water rescue and public safety, yet they had already been compromised. The federal government wanted to activate FEMA operations in the city.

  A call had come in from General Wade Eiling, to propose sending regular army into the city
, but the mayor said no. Bellows didn’t want his city to fall under military control, but he didn’t know how long it’d be before Eiling stopped asking and started ordering.

  According to Joe, Bellows was under pressure from city leaders to consider taking Rathaway’s buyout. That would have meant forcing her dad out of the police force, as well—an idea that made her blood boil. Joe and Captain Singh managed to argue the mayor back in line, but they had to stop the metas soon, or there was no way the mayor could avoid cutting a deal.

  Joe and Barry would be hung out to dry.

  Iris suppressed the anger and took a deep breath of the dry air, forcing herself to enjoy the beautiful day. She had several appointments lined up, and a long list of calls to make. Today she was trying to run down former friends, colleagues, and associates of Hartley Rathaway.

  Cisco had provided her with a stack of information from the S.T.A.R. Labs databanks, but Iris knew, as a reporter and the daughter of a police officer, that old-fashioned legwork was what paid off. Knocking on doors, making calls, and asking questions sometimes could locate what metadata couldn’t touch.

  She took her phone to a small city park not far from her office. A cup of coffee and a bagel sat on the bench next to her. Young men played a vigorous game of basketball as if the city around them wasn’t under attack. They brought an all-or-nothing intensity to their game, and that comforted Iris. If this game meant the world to those sweating, grunting guys, maybe the world wasn’t ending after all.

  “Physics Department.”

  Responding to the answering voice on the phone, Iris said, “Yes, hello. I’d like to speak to Dr. Ronald Savic, please.”

  “I’m sorry. He is on sabbatical this semester.”

  “Oh, is he in town?”

  “No, he’s in Markovia on a lecture fellowship. He’s been there since June. I can give you the number of the department there, if you’d like.”

  Iris took the number and tapped the phone off. Savic had been a S.T.A.R. Labs colleague of Rathaway’s who had gone to academia after the particle accelerator explosion. She might follow up with him later, but if he’d been in Markovia since early summer, he wasn’t likely to have any useful knowledge concerning Rathaway’s recent movements.