Flash Page 7

  She had never thought about the metahumans as a group, even a family of sorts. The Flash had dumped them all in prison, like locking children in their rooms. Children who couldn’t be trusted. On the other hand, Rathaway trusted her. He understood her. He valued her intelligence, playing chess and asking her opinions.

  He moved his knight and Shawna took an involuntary breath. He made a mistake. A big one. He was distracted and vulnerable. She felt bad for him. Still, she instinctively reached for her bishop to drop the hammer. Then she stopped.

  “Are you sure?” she asked.

  “Always. Do your worst.”

  Shawna slid the bishop over and watched the realization dawn on him. She tried not to smile, but failed.

  “I resign.” He raised an eyebrow and reached out to flick over his king with a clatter. “Well done.”

  “I have a secret weapon,” she said. “You still think of me as a girl you’d cross the street to avoid.”

  “You may be right.” Rathaway stood. “But I believe I’ve finally estimated you accurately. Thank you for the games, Shawna, and the company. I hope we’ll play again.” He nodded to her, and left the room.

  Rathaway was a different sort of man. He hadn’t made any excuses about losing to her. He hadn’t claimed she’d just gotten lucky. He hadn’t leered or made crude remarks, as if she expected them because she was pretty. He hadn’t bullied or belittled her.

  Shawna sat back. The distant sound of gulls and the long autumn sunlight gave her the illusion that she was on vacation at the lake. A strange sense of comfort seeped into her, and she felt at home for the first time in a long time.

  10

  Barry flinched at Iris’s stern gaze the moment he entered C.C. Jitters. He knew that look. The famous “Iris ire.” She’d taken an isolated corner booth, the better to strike.

  So much for a quiet coffee. He placed his order with the barista, whom he suddenly recognized.

  “You’re Lily, right?” He smiled at her. It warmed Barry to see her again. “The one I saw you on the news.”

  She nodded, working the espresso machine.

  “I am,” she admitted. “You’re Barry. I’ve seen you with Iris.” She waved at Iris whose frown broke a moment to lift a hand in greeting. Lily leaned in toward Barry. “She looks pissed,” she murmured conspiratorially. “At you?”

  “Yeah.” Barry gave a small sigh. “Better make it a double espresso. I may need it.”

  Lily chuckled. “Absolutely.”

  “How are you doing, by the way?”

  She looked up from her work. “We’re fine. Thanks. I barely remember any of it actually. It seems like a dream. I got sick of seeing myself on the news, but thanks to the tornados and fires and all the flooding rain, my little wreck has gone off the news cycle. But I’m so grateful to the Flash. I know we wouldn’t be here today without him.”

  Barry tried not to blush. “How’s your son handling it all?”

  She laughed. “Are you kidding? He’s in seventh heaven. All he talks about is the Flash.” She looked around the cafe. “He’s around here somewhere. Teacher’s workday today, so they let him hang out here with me. Be warned. He’ll probably show you his autograph. He sleeps with it.”

  “I’ll consider myself warned.” Barry laughed, taking the hot cup she handed him. Then steeling himself, he went over to Iris. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she said quietly.

  That was never a good sign.

  “I’m not late, am I?” He looked at his wristwatch, the one that had belonged to Joe’s father. He showed the watch face to Iris to prove he was pretty close to being on time. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’re busy at the paper, with all the stuff going on in town.” She gave him the distended jaw and narrowed eyes. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I? You’re in your serious talk booth, where people can’t overhear us.”

  “If you’re talking about last night, then yes, you might be in trouble.” Iris leaned forward so they could speak quietly together. “What happened to you at the fire? You were muttering about Multiplex. I asked Caitlin, and she said that he’s still dead.”

  Barry offered a sheepish shrug. “Probably the smoke inhalation. I was just muddled by the fumes.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that, Barry. I know you too well. Caitlin said you had an earlier… episode, she called it.” She pinned him with her gaze. “What’s going on? Why haven’t you told us?”

  “To be truthful, I’m not sure what it is,” he admitted. “The first time we kind of dismissed it—well, I did. Now after the warehouse, it looks like it might be something more. I was going to tell you both. You and Joe. Honest. You just sort of beat me to it.”

  Her mouth remained a thin line. “We should have been the first ones you told.”

  “I know. You should have,” he agreed, “but Joe’s looked so worn out lately. I didn’t want to add to it, you know? Especially without knowing what it was.”

  “He’d feel the same way regardless,” she insisted, “and so do I. We’re family. We’re your first line of defense.” She sat back. Her anger spent, it was replaced with worry. “So what is it? What’s going on with you?”

  Barry searched for an answer. “I’m not sure. A couple of times, I’ve seen things—people—when I run. I saw a version of myself. Older, like really old. And I don’t age well, let me tell you.” When she didn’t laugh, he sighed and continued.

  “In these episodes, I show up and warn myself. That is, the older version of me is warning me, telling me to run faster. Like Dr. Wells used to do. ‘Run, Barry, run!’” He shrugged, knowing how crazy it sounded. “Then this last time, Multiplex showed up, reminding me how I let him die. Like I needed any help to feel bad about that.”

  “What else did he tell you?”

  “That I can’t save everyone, even with my speed. Then he tried to bury me under a wave of his duplicates.”

  “When I saw you in that warehouse, you were frozen in place. Just staring at nothing. And you were blurry, almost like I could see through you.”

  “How long did it last?”

  “Just a few seconds. It was hard to tell.”

  Barry swirled his coffee. “It seemed a lot longer.”

  “Any idea what’s causing it?”

  “I wish I knew.” Barry shrugged. “Caitlin’s been running tests on me, and she can’t detect anything. But she will.”

  Iris leaned forward. “What does it feel like when it happens?”

  “Like a tug. Like something breaks, and lets go.” He thought about it. “It’s almost like I’m free falling for a split second.” Barry rubbed his face in frustration. “Maybe it’s just a side effect of being the Flash, coming up after all this time. Maybe I’m stressing out my metahuman healing factor. All this stuff I do has to put a huge strain on my body.” He sipped coffee and thought about adding, And my mind.

  The worried expression on Iris’s face made him feel awful. This was why he didn’t want to say anything, but it felt cleansing to put his scattered thoughts into words, to get it out just to see if it made sense.

  “Barry, maybe you’re pushing yourself too hard,” she suggested. “Maybe you need to take a break.”

  Barry laughed. “Joe said he wanted us to take a vacation.”

  “Really? That’s a wonderful idea. Although we should pick the place, otherwise he might take us fishing. He thinks you like it.”

  Barry rubbed his chin. “It’s not my vacation of choice. How about skiing?”

  Iris lit up. “Ooh. Now you’re talking!”

  A familiar high-pitched voice caught Barry’s attention. A little boy appeared nearby. It was Dean, and he was showing his autographed wooden plaque to some strangers who gave him a smile. Barry stared as Dean acted out the animated story of his adventure with the Flash, much to the amusement of the young couple who hadn’t known the boy existed just a few moments ago.

  Next he raced over to the booth shared by Barry and Iris, his face lit up with an excited gri
n, shoving the tattered shard of plywood in Iris’s hands.

  “Look! It’s from the Flash,” Dean said a little bit too loudly. “He saved me! The Flash is the greatest. He saved me and my mom from a big car crash. He came running in and no one could even see him, but I could. I could see him. He smiled at me and pulled us out of our car that got all crunched up. Wham! It got smashed, but the Flash was like zoom and whoosh all around, and the cars were flying everywhere.” The boy’s words tumbled from his mouth.

  “Wow.” Iris bent toward the boy. “That sounds amazing.”

  “Dean.” Lily came from behind the counter, weaving through tables. She took her son by the shoulder. “It’s time for you to stop bothering people now. Why don’t you go sit in the break room and color?”

  “It’s all right.” Barry grinned. “He isn’t bothering us.”

  Lily smiled gratefully. “He gets a little excited about the Flash.”

  “I love the Flash!” Dean said emphatically. “He’s going to be my dad! The Flash will be the best dad ever, because he’ll always be there when you need him.”

  Iris handed the plaque to Barry. He dutifully studied the rough etching and gave the autographed wood back to Dean, smiling gently at the boy.

  “Pretty cool,” he said. “You and the Flash are pals, huh?”

  “Yes! He might come to our house for Christmas.” Dean posed in a runner’s stance for a second before racing off to show his plaque to another customer. “Whoosh!”

  Lily rolled her eyes and returned to the counter.

  Barry stared after the boy, a smile on his face. “And that’s why vacations can’t happen.”

  Iris rested her cheek on her palm. “I know.”

  “Plus now I have to eat two Christmas dinners.”

  “Like that’s a problem for you.”

  “Hey, maybe I could do it.” Barry looked at Iris with a bright glint in his eyes. “Maybe the Flash really could show up on Christmas for Dean.”

  “Why don’t you pull your own sleigh while you’re at it? Hand out presents to all the good little boys and girls?” She paused, then added, “Oh, wait. There’s already a guy in a red suit, and that’s his gig.”

  Barry grabbed a napkin and a pen. “I wonder how long it would take me to visit every home on Earth?”

  “You’re actually considering it, aren’t you?”

  “Not yet,” he answered. “For the moment it’s purely speculative.”

  Iris picked up her purse.

  “Sure it is.”

  11

  Barry stood with arms crossed, staring at his costume. It was on a mannequin in the Cortex, where it rested between missions. That Flash figure greeted him every time he entered the laboratory. It was like he was waiting for himself, quiet and immobile. It reminded him of the Future Flash he had been seeing.

  Him, but not him.

  He wondered if Oliver Queen ever had these dissociative moments. Oliver versus Green Arrow. Probably not. He seemed pretty well buttoned up, and he’d been at it longer.

  Barry turned away from the dummy Flash to face his friends. Cisco and Caitlin sat in their usual spots behind the semicircular control board.

  “Okay,” he said, “so we’ve got Weather Wizard, Prism, and the Mist.”

  Caitlin kept typing. “I think it’s a good bet that Shawna Baez is with them.”

  “Peekaboo!” Cisco exclaimed. “I was hoping she’d come back.”

  “Why?” Barry asked him with a wan smile.

  “She’s the type of villain who just needs the love of a good man to turn her from the dark side.” His eyes took on a faraway look, and he rested his chin in his palms.

  “Are you that good man?”

  “Heck yeah!” Cisco smoothed his t-shirt, and the dancing chromosomes it sported. “I’m like a sexy Yoda. With me, there is no try, there is only do.”

  “Or do not,” Caitlin muttered with the hint of a smile on her lips.

  Cisco glowered at her. “Your lack of faith disturbs me.”

  “So, Caitlin…” Barry began to pace. “Why do you think Peekaboo is with them?”

  She leaned on the control panel. “There’s no way Mardon and Bivolo could’ve disappeared like they did without you finding a trace of them. You’re fast, Barry, but they slipped away from you just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “Like they—”

  “Teleported,” Barry finished the thought with an accepting nod. “That makes sense. So four metahumans working together… to do what? They pulled that museum caper and killed Dr. Larson. Mardon has created weather disasters all over town, plus the warehouse fire. But what’s the point of it? Except for the museum, they haven’t stolen anything. They haven’t killed anyone else, luckily. But it’s so frustrating. I’m just chasing from crime to crime. I can’t get my hands on the bad guys. There’s got to be a master plan to all this. Right?”

  “Probably.” Cisco stared at his monitor with agitation. “I’ve been running my tracking algorithms based on reported sightings of our villains, but it hasn’t come up with anything significant—which is weird, because normally I’m really smart.”

  “Well, I’m sure Cisco will come up with something, like the super-genius he is.” Caitlin smirked. “However, I’m actually more worried about the cause of your glitches, Barry.”

  He looked up at the immobile Flash mannequin again. “Maybe the glitches are caused by some sort of psychic attack from another metahuman we haven’t seen yet.”

  “We can’t be sure of anything until we eliminate it,” she said, and she fell on her keyboard, typing with a vengeance. Then she studied the lines of data on her screen. “These are your bio-readings from the warehouse fire last night. There are no signs of the sort of brain activity that would show up if you were under psychic stress. Whatever is going on with you, it isn’t a psychic attack.”

  “Good,” Joe’s voice echoed as he entered the Cortex with Iris at his side. “So at least we don’t have to worry about Grodd.”

  Iris came over to Barry. “I filled Dad in. Hope you don’t mind.” Her expression told him it wouldn’t matter if he did.

  “No, of course not.” Barry gave her arm a comforting squeeze. “I should have told him before. We don’t have secrets.”

  “Damn straight,” Joe agreed, eyebrow raised.

  “Listen, I know it’s easier to suspect a metahuman attack or invader from another dimension,” Iris said, “but it still seems more likely that the root of your problem is good old-fashioned stress.”

  Cisco spread his hands dramatically. “You mean instead of a mind-controlling gorilla? Why, what’s so strange about that?”

  Barry laughed, then turned serious.

  “Look, I appreciate the thought, Iris,” he said, “but I’m just not that stressed. You know me. I’m cool. I’m cooly cool.”

  “Oh yeah, the king of chill.” Iris eyed him evenly. “Says the guy who was seriously considering running to every house on Earth this Christmas. Does that strike you as normal?”

  “Normal? No,” Cisco said, then he gave Barry a thumbs up. “Awesome? Yes!”

  Barry grinned. “I know, right?” He dug into his pockets and retrieved a wad of napkins. He handed them to Cisco, who unfolded the mess and began to study the complex formulae scribbled there. As he did, Barry turned back to Iris.

  “And even if I wasn’t relaxed, which I totally am, there are still four metahuman criminals running amok. They’ve got to be our top priority. Once we’ve tracked them down, then we can talk about rest and relaxation.” He shot Joe a look. “Iris and I decided on skiing.”

  Joe gave back a disapproving frown. “Slick move there, Bar—changing the subject, but we’ll let it go. This time.” He pulled several folded sheets of paper from his coat pocket. “I’ve got the inventory from the museum, so we have a list of what was stolen, and what was destroyed.”

  Barry zipped over and took the papers, leafing through them at hyper-speed.

  “Most of the museum’s pr
ecious stones were taken,” he murmured as he scanned the pages. “A few of the older artifacts. And—oh wow!” He held up a page. “The Singing Meteorite.”

  “No way!” Cisco scrambled around the console and snatched away the page. “I didn’t know it was still in Central City, much less at the museum.”

  “What the hell are you talking about now?” Joe demanded.

  A boyish grin appeared on Barry’s face. “The Singing Meteorite was discovered in Africa ten years ago, by Dr. William Coolidge. It has a totally unique crystalline structure.”

  “They said you could hear it,” Cisco piped in. “Coolidge said the meteorite led him to it, by singing.”

  “He sang to the meteor?” Joe said.

  “No, it sang to him,” Barry said. “And it’s a meteorite, because it’s already crashed to Earth, while a meteor is—”

  “Focus, Barry.” Joe tilted his head. “I know what a meteor is.”

  “Oh, yeah, right. Sorry. Anyway, he said he could hear it singing, and that’s how he found it. It was just lying there, out in a field. Without examining it, you’d have thought it was an ordinary rock.”

  “Uh-huh.” Joe started to speak, then shrugged. “I’d say that’s crazy, but I’ve seen things that make it sound perfectly reasonable.”

  “He’s still out at the observatory!” Cisco was hunched over his monitor again.

  “He is?” Barry asked. “I thought he’d retired, or died.”

  “That’s it, Barry,” Caitlin said, tapping up new data. “That strange substance on Dr. Larson’s hands. It could be—”

  “Oh, snap!” Cisco exclaimed. “It’s Singing Rock dust! That’s why we couldn’t identify it. It came from another world!” he added dramatically.

  Barry pulled the chemical breakdown up on the screen. “You’re right. Those results would be consistent with a meteorite.”

  “Yo, dude,” Cisco said, his eyes wide. “You know what I’m thinking? It’s time for a road trip to the creepy observatory on the edge of town, to talk to a crazy old astronomer!”