Flash Read online

  There was a creak of the stairs and Joe came back down, wearing jeans and a white shirt. As he settled himself at the head of the table, his face still held a broad grin. Iris and Barry took their own seats to either side.

  “I like this,” he said. “It’s been a while since we all sat around the table at the same time.”

  “Without something interrupting us, you mean,” Barry said with a sheepish grin. Joe nodded. He then pinned Iris with an accusatory eye.

  “You didn’t turn off the phones, did you?”

  Iris gave a small snort of exasperation as she dished out the meal, piling four cutlets onto his plate.

  “It crossed my mind, but no.”

  “So what’s with you, Joe?” Barry demanded. “What happened today that’s got you so happy?”

  “You say that like it’s strange,” Joe replied with mock indignation, reaching for his food. “As a general rule, I’m a happy kind of guy. Aren’t I?” When no one answered, he dug into his meal, continuing to talk between bites.

  “I delivered a baby.”

  “No way!” Barry let out an incredulous laugh. “Where?”

  “In the middle of a supermarket. We were there for a robbery report, but in all of the excitement a woman went into full-on delivery mode. Just like on television.” He paused and looked up. “Got to admit, I was scared to death. I’ve never done anything like that before.” He glanced at Iris. “When you were born, they let me cut the cord and hold you, but that was all. The doctors did all the heavy lifting.”

  “What was it?” Iris rested her chin on her palms.

  “A boy.” His warm gaze found Barry. “A beautiful baby boy. The way he stared at me. The gratitude of his parents. Those little hands.” A glimmer of moisture reflected in the big man’s eyes.

  Barry understood completely. He felt that same sort of high every moment as the Flash. Sometimes it took him to heights that made coming down almost impossible. Not that he really wanted to.

  “I don’t get to experience something like that every day,” Joe confessed. “Too much cruelty in my line of work. But on days like today, I wouldn’t want to do anything else.”

  “I know what you mean,” Iris said. “For all the crime stories I have to write at the Picture News, all the corrupt politicians we’ve got, all it takes is one story—about an ordinary person doing something amazing—to make me love my job all over again.”

  “To a family of heroes,” Barry announced with mock pretension, and he lifted his glass. Then he winked at Iris before looking over at Joe. “And I think we know who gets the credit.”

  Iris smiled at her father. “We were brought up right.” Joe scoffed, reaching for garlic toast. “No, really,” she said. “You always taught us how important it is to think about others, rather than just ourselves.”

  “You’d have both turned out fine,” he replied. “And, Barry, you were headed in the right direction before I even came into the picture.”

  Barry shrugged. “Sure, but when you did come into the picture, I could’ve easily turned into a bitter kid. Without you, Joe, we might not have the Flash. I might’ve become a sociopath, like most of the other metas we run into.”

  “I find it hard to picture you as a super-villain,” Iris said, and she grinned. “You’re way too much of a nerd.”

  “Nerds turn evil,” Joe said. “Look at… what’s his name… Hartley Rathaway. What’s Cisco call him? The Pied Piper.”

  Barry shook his head. “He isn’t a nerd. Cisco is a nerd. Hartley Rathaway is an honest-to-god evil genius.” He pointed with his fork. “Let’s face it, most every villain, nerd or not, could’ve used a Joe West in their life.”

  “Or at least a good swift boot in their rear,” Joe muttered. He regarded Barry with a hint of a smile. “I hear you had a great day, too. Saw the footage. That was some rescue you pulled off.”

  “All in a day’s work,” Barry muttered as he speared some more cutlets and piled them onto his empty plate. He shifted, embarrassed to be in the spotlight, and wolfed down the chicken.

  “You’re the only one who can do that kind of work, Barry.” Joe patted Barry’s hand against the table. “You both make an old man proud.”

  3

  Early the next morning, the Flash wove through the streets of Central City, bound for his home away from home.

  S.T.A.R. Labs had been the billion-dollar brainchild of Dr. Harrison Wells, successful scientist and entrepreneur, a man of theory and practice. Throughout his school days, Barry followed Wells’s career, standing in awe of what the man accomplished.

  The crown jewel of the research center was the particle accelerator. Intended as a source of limitless energy, it was promoted as the doorway to a future of ease and plenty, the key to an onrushing golden age. Unfortunately the key broke off in the lock.

  During its maiden test, the accelerator ruptured, creating an artificial thundercloud and sending a wave of strange dark matter rippling across Central City. While most men and women remained unaffected, a percentage of the population had their DNA twisted, causing them to transform, to become something unprecedented.

  These metahumans became the true harbingers of the future. Some could fly. Others could channel terrible energies through their minds and bodies. Yet others could alter their physical forms, morphing into substances that were far from flesh and blood.

  The transformations left physical, mental, and psychological scars. Many of these new men and women were warped by the experience, striking out in fear, anger, and greed. Some remained content to seek profit, while others sought to exert their influence over persons they saw as weak and vulnerable.

  One metahuman used his powers to oppose them.

  The night the particle accelerator exploded, the wave of dark matter engulfed Barry Allen in his forensic laboratory at Central City Police Headquarters, just as he was struck by lightning. The result was a coma.

  Nine months later, he woke.

  To a great extent Central City had healed from the cataclysm, though S.T.A.R. Labs remained a husk, maintained by the slimmest of skeleton crews. As Barry attempted to rejoin the world, he discovered how much he had changed, and sought answers at the source of the phenomena.

  * * *

  Arriving at S.T.A.R. Labs, the Flash roared through the doors of that once-great scientific coliseum and wound his way through the hallways, skidding to a halt in the main control room, dubbed the Cortex.

  Cisco Ramon and Dr. Caitlin Snow looked up from their work and smiled from inside the blizzard of paper that went airborne with the Flash’s entrance. These two were all that was left of the great congress of geniuses gathered by Harrison Wells.

  Barry pulled back his red cowl and plucked the floating sheets from the air faster than the eye could follow. He hastily piled them on a countertop and turned to face his friends, a sheepish grin splitting his boyish features.

  Cisco tipped a greeting with his giant soda cup from Big Belly Burgers. Short with a round face and long dark hair shoved behind his ears, he looked more like an intern than a full-blown mechanical engineer. His t-shirt read ASK ME ABOUT ABSOLUTELY ANYTHING AT ALL.

  The burger scent wafted across the nearly sterile control room, and Barry’s stomach growled. Even the quick jaunt to the lab made his body crave food. His eyes locked on the large pile of French fries on the semicircular workstation next to Cisco. He grabbed a handful and shoved them in his mouth, enjoying the salty jolt. Cisco didn’t even blink.

  “Did you guys notice anything odd with me yesterday?” Barry asked.

  “Odd?” Caitlin stopped smiling. Even when she appeared happy, there was something pensive about the young, brown-haired bio-engineer. Her eyes were distant, even haunted. Though she was loath to admit it, it was as if she was waiting for the world to disappoint. Given her tragic history, such an outlook seemed entirely too justifiable.

  “What do you mean?” Cisco asked, his endless curiosity piqued. “Oh, and please… have some fries.”

/>   “Thanks,” Barry said as he chewed. “Not sure. A little hiccup? A glitch in the readings?” He walked over to stand next to them.

  “A glitch?” Caitlin frowned and swung back into a chair at her computer station. Fingers rippled over the keyboard. “What does that mean? A glitch in what?”

  Cisco leaned close to Barry’s suit, inspecting the raised lightning bolt emblem on the chest that contained micro-sensors. His voice was concerned.

  “Did you break our suit?”

  Barry reached around him to gather the last of the fries.

  “No.”

  “Thank God.” Cisco narrowed his eyes as Barry shoved the fries into his mouth. “Then what are you talking about?”

  “I’m not sure.” Barry fished a cheeseburger out of the greasy bag on the table. As he peeled back the wrapper, he said, “That’s why I’m asking. Just like a… a blink.” He frowned in contemplation, mirroring Caitlin’s expression. “A nanosecond of… something. I just felt a tug in my speed. I think.”

  Caitlin scanned multiple readouts on her screen, biological data that was steadily collected by the sensors in the Flash suit, and transmitted to S.T.A.R. Labs. “There’s nothing abnormal registering now. Heart rate slightly elevated. Blood pressure fine.” She switched to another screen. “Your speed was constant yesterday, so far as I can tell. Do you feel sick?”

  “No, I feel great.” Barry shook his head and polished off the cheeseburger. “That burger needed pickles though.”

  Cisco wadded up the empty bag and hook shot it toward a garbage can.

  He missed.

  “I don’t like pickles.”

  Caitlin turned from the screen to Barry, her gaze probing.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I should know whether I like pickles or not.”

  “Not that.” Caitlin waved him away. “Barry, are you sure about what you experienced? Can you describe it more clearly?”

  “Forget about it.” Barry laughed, and wished he hadn’t said anything. He didn’t really know what he’d felt, or even if it was real. More likely it was his imagination—a side effect of the adrenaline rush. “It’s never happened before. Just a glitch, like I said. Maybe a piece of a Corvette nicked me, and it didn’t register.” He looked at Cisco. “So only one burger?”

  “I didn’t know I was feeding the multitudes,” Cisco replied wryly. “Maybe you could go buy another one… and one for me, while you’re at it.”

  “You’re on.” Barry welcomed a quick jaunt to Big Belly Burger. “It’s fun, running through the drive-thru.”

  Caitlin raised her hand. “Could you do something for me?”

  “You want a milkshake?”

  “No. Well, yes, but first could you do a stint on the treadmill? I want to run a few tests.”

  “Caitlin, really, don’t worry.”

  “I am worrying, Barry,” she protested, her voice becoming firm. “Anytime something odd happens, we have to pay attention. So just… run. Please. I want to establish a baseline.” When he saw how serious she was, Barry relented.

  “Okay.” He started toward the side chamber where his industrial-strength treadmill sat.

  “Wait,” Caitlin called out. “It would be better to duplicate external conditions. You can run the Pipeline.”

  Cisco logged his computer into the server she was using, and they began setting the parameters in the suit. Clearly outnumbered, Barry sighed and headed out the door at a normal walk, working his way down to the vast circular tunnel that ran the perimeter of S.T.A.R. Labs. It had been built to house the particle accelerator equipment, similar to its more famous counterpart in Switzerland. Later it had been retrofitted into a makeshift prison to hold metahumans who could not be left on the streets to prey on innocent people. Now it was dark and quiet. Deserted. Technically endless.

  Entering the tunnel, Barry switched on the lights, casting stark shadows over an array of equipment, revealing gaping holes where devices had been removed. He touched the lightning bolt-shaped earpiece on the side of his head.

  “You guys ready?”

  “Ready when you are,” Caitlin replied.

  Barry waved at the camera mounted high on the wall, and bolted.

  As he hit a steady pace, Caitlin’s voice came into his ears.

  “Bring it up to Mach point four-five. That’s the maximum speed you reached during the rescue on the highway.”

  The Flash ran easily, passing 300 mph without effort. Though he was moving at unbelievable speed, his surroundings were utterly calm.

  “A little faster, Barry,” she instructed. “Come to Mach point five.”

  The Flash chuckled with excitement, and kicked it up. He could see the fringes of the lightning crackling off the suit now, and the familiar sensation began to course through him. The tunnel ahead grew even clearer as he ran past the same spot every few seconds. Over and over and over.

  “Hold that pace.” Caitlin was in full analysis mode. “We’ll monitor your vitals. Let us know if you feel anything. Anything, Barry,” she repeated sternly.

  “I will,” he promised. “All good so far.” The Flash settled in, hardly noticing his arms and legs pumping. Electricity crackled. A straight run like this was easier than maneuvering at high speed, dealing with foreign objects like flying cars.

  His mind wandered, and he frowned at the memory of a little boy, frozen in the speed force, staring at his mom in terror, not afraid for himself but for her. And there was his mother, reaching out, unaware of anything except her son’s danger.

  “Okay, Barry,” Caitlin’s voice crackled, “slow down now.”

  Her words didn’t register. He went faster, instead, pushed himself harder. He might need another microsecond to save the next Lily and Dean. Step after step fell with mesmerizing precision. The cold walls of the Pipeline started to stretch and lose clarity on the edges. Blood pounded in his ears.

  A crimson shape rose up on Barry’s right side. He turned and saw his father, Henry Allen, in a Flash suit. The scarlet-clad figure matched him stride for stride, even though he was heavier and older. The suit looked strange, soft and molded.

  Barry looked the other speedster in the eyes and realized it wasn’t his father. It was him. It was Barry, only older. The face was thicker and worn with deep creases along the mouth. The eyes were the same ones Barry had seen in the mirror his whole life, only tired and… something else.

  The older Flash reached out, and opened his mouth to speak.

  Barry flinched, and found himself tumbling. The harsh lights of the tunnel suddenly flew all around him. Solid blows landed on Barry’s shoulders and back and legs. The world whirled around him.

  His hands flew out, slapping helplessly off hard surfaces.

  He bounced and rolled and slammed into a wall. Caromed off the steel across the tunnel floor and impacted the opposite wall. His breath pounded from his chest. His body slid around in a full circle and he found himself staring up at the shadowy curve of the tunnel ceiling.

  Noises roared in Barry’s ears, and only now did he realize they were voices. Caitlin and Cisco called out in alarm.

  “Barry! What happened?” Caitlin said. “Talk to me. Answer me!”

  “Are you all right?” Cisco added. “I’m on my way down!”

  “I’m fine.” Barry lay still. His chest rose and fell, but not because he was out of breath. His heart pounded. He didn’t move, trying to recall what he had seen. “I just tripped.”

  “Tripped?” Caitlin exclaimed. “You don’t trip.”

  Barry sat up. He leaned back against the solid wall, pulling off his cowl. Then he stiffened in alarm.

  “I think I ghosted.” Barry looked up and down the tunnel, searching for some sign of temporal change.

  “Ghosted?” Caitlin responded. “You mean time travel? No, Barry. You weren’t moving nearly fast enough. And there’s no sign of tachyon elevation.”

  “But I saw myself,” he said. “When I time travel, I can see images of myself. W
hat time is it? What day?”

  “It’s only a few minutes after you went down there.”

  “What day?”

  “Barry, it’s the same day,” she insisted. “You didn’t time travel.”

  Footfalls pounded in the distance and a shape appeared around the curve of the Pipeline. Cisco gasped for breath, sheened with sweat, and staggered up to where Barry sat on the floor. He stopped and bent at the waist, hands on his knees. His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t speak. Barry looked up, and waited.

  “Are you…?” Cisco finally rasped. “Are you… are you…?”

  “Am I okay?” Barry replied. “Yes. Are you? Sit down. Catch your breath, man.”

  Cisco nodded and ran a hand through his straight black hair. He leaned heavily on the wall, sliding down, sucking air into his lungs. Barry got to his feet and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  “Breathe. I’m good.”

  “What does a heart attack feel like? Like this? Probably like this. I’m glad you ate my cheeseburger now. Thank you. I’d be dead right now if I ate all that grease.”

  Barry again peered into the dim expanse of the tunnel.

  “I think I ghosted, but Caitlin says it’s impossible.”

  Cisco regarded him quizzically with his face flushed. He scrabbled for his phone, checked it, and held up the screen for Barry to see the display.

  “Well, not unless you returned to the exact moment you left, and that’s never happened before.” His gaze shifted to far away, and he added, “It also means we could all be time travelling all the time.” Cisco’s mouth opened in an amazed circle as Barry helped him to his feet. “Oh, man, I just blew my own mind!” They moved toward the nearest exit, their footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

  “I’m pretty sure I saw myself,” Barry said.

  “Maybe it was a speed mirage. Some kind of image sticking to your retinas.”

  Barry shrugged. “Maybe. It’s possible. I’ll admit my mind was wandering a little.” He shook his head. “But the Flash I saw down here wasn’t a mirror image.”