Hey, guys, here's the next chapter - sorry it's late, my computer was refusing to connect to the Internet. Please tell me what you think, feedback is the fuel my brain needs!

The crime scene was bloody, just as I'd hoped. Not as gory, because shootings were generally fairly clean affairs, but there were dead bodies, meaning that there was a veritable feast of evidence to get my hands on.

Joe's department-issued SUV squeals to a stop at the curb and Barry and I grab our gear and duck under the yellow tape. We quickly split the scene into parts – Barry would canvas the outside of the bank, while I got the inside, and we quickly split up with our individual cases.

"Please tell me no one disturbed the crime scene," I announce as I enter the bank lobby, immediately scanning the bloody corpse for details. "My job is hard enough as is without someone trampling on the corpse."

"Your precious body's fine, lab rat," one of the officers calls. "Should we leave you two alone for a moment? You need mood lighting?"

"If you've got it, sure, but I much prefer UV," I reply sarcastically. "And as for leaving me alone, yes, I'd greatly appreciate it if you did."

The small crowd of cops shuffles away from the corpse, leaving me about a five-foot radius in which to work. I kneel down next to the body and flip open my case, beginning by jotting down basic notes: height, weight, possible age and such.

Snapping on a pair of gloves, I quickly begin swabbing and bagging samples, making mental notes as I went.

A few minutes later, Joe walks into the bank and approaches the body. "Whatcha got, Ellie?"

"Male, between 50 and 65, five-foot, eleven inches tall," I rattle off. "Cause of death will be determined by the coroner, but my best guess is the bullet hole in his chest." I stand and pull my gloves off, grabbing my camera and beginning to take photos.

"Judging by the placement of the body and the lack of drag marks, I'd say he was huddled back near the wall," I continue, gesturing as I do so. "My best guess is that our shooter only shot this dude to make a point."

"As an example," Joe tacks on, and I nod.

"Right. Has anyone ID'd our shooter?"

"The teller gave a sketch," the detective offers, handing over a piece of paper with a sketch on it. "Looks a lot like Clyde Mardon, doesn't it?"

"That it does." I grin, scanning over the face in front of me for telling clues. There was a small scar on his chin – it didn't look like a deliberate wound, and I assumed that even criminals had to trip sometime.

"From what I've read from the other Mardon cases, they like to minimize deaths," I comment. "Not because they're squeamish, but because they're, like, scary efficient. Which might be why they haven't been caught yet. I mean, that's not to say you're bad at your job, Joe, I just meant that these particular criminals are smarter than your average criminal – which you can catch, obviously, given that Iron Heights is-"

Joe silences me with a look, and I swallow my twisted tongue as I hand back the sketch and stuff my hands in my pockets. "Is Barry outside? With the other body?"

Joe nods slowly, still jotting down notes.

"Right," I huff anxiously, quickly packing my stuff away and hurrying outside. I follow the cops milling around the scene to the center of the activity: a side alley with a second corpse, over which my brother was crouched, examining something on the pavement. I mutter a greeting as I plop down next to him.

"Hey," he greets absently, studying some tire marks on the pavement. "Did you get anything big off the body inside?"

"He was shot as an example. Haven't gotten a name yet, but I took samples to bring back to the lab. I mainly left before I could inadvertently insult Joe even more," I murmur, scratching the back of my neck sheepishly.

"Rambling?" Barry asks.

"Rambling," I nod. "So, what've you got out here?"

"Tire treads," he responds, pointing out the skid marks on the pavement. "12 inches, asymmetrical tread."

"They were made by Mustang Shelby GT500," I announce. "They have an exclusive super-wide rear wheel."

Barry nods, and I can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he takes in the new information. Blinking, he refocuses on the skid marks and narrows his eyes. "What's that?"

"What's what?" I ask, leaning over to see what he was pointing at – there were flecks of something within the skid marks themselves.

"Can you get me a test tube or something?"

"Um…" I quickly open my kit and take inventory. "I used all mine. The best I can get you is an evidence bag."

"That'll have to do," Barry decides, and before I can protest, reaches down to swipe a gloved finger through the brown stuff – it looked soft, almost like clay.

Barry brings it up to his face and sniffs it. "Yep. Feces."

"Oh. Wonderful." I pull a face – there were times I really didn't like my job, and this was one of those times. I much preferred studying ballistics and trajectories. Still, I hold the bag open, leaning slightly away from it as Barry carefully takes his entire glove off and drops it in.

"I hope you know that you'll be the one analyzing this," I inform him as I hold out the bag.

Barry nods and quickly packs the baggie away, shutting his case just as Joe rounds the corner. "Did you two find anything else?"

"We found a…crapload of evidence," I offer, lips twitching.

Barry elbows me in the ribs. "She means we found feces in the tire treads," he clarifies, sending a half-hearted glare my way. "We'll bring them – and everything else – back to the lab. We should have a lead by the end of the day."

"Good," Joe nods. "Let's head back, then. We need to get to work. Mardon cannot – will not – be getting away this time."

Fifteen minutes after leaving the crime scene, I drag my case back into the lab, set it on a table, and Barry and I quickly head to our desk. I move both of our kits onto one of the lab tables and begin setting up the various machines I'd need. "Hey, before I forget, is the news saying anything about STAR Labs? I forgot to check this morning."

Barry doesn't respond, but even without looking up I can hear one of the monitors in the lab turn on to the news station we usually kept on.

"…and we are less than five hours away from the moment we've all been waiting for: the activation of STAR Laboratory's particle accelerator," the news reporter was saying. "The event has been marketed as the greatest leap in scientific advancement since NASA's moon landing, and to many fans, the company truly does live up to its promise of delivering 'the science of tomorrow, today.'"

"It's probably going to be better than the moon landing," I predict over the sound of the mass spectrometer running, and Barry hums in agreement.

"However, not everyone is in agreement with these advancements," the reporter continues, and I glance up to see the screen switch to a shot of protestors outside of STAR Labs holding signs that read 'DON'T TURN IT ON!'

I roll my eyes as I swap out one blood sample for the next, logging the results. "Plebeians," I mutter under my breath. "Just because they're afraid of progress doesn't mean everyone else has to be stuck in the Stone Age with them."

"It's going to turn on anyway," Barry points out, not even looking up from the microscope he was using to inspect one of the other samples we'd gotten. "Wells is going to go ahead with this, no matter what some picketers say."

"I know that," I acknowledge. "Still, humanity's resistance to progress annoys the hell out of me." I trail off as my computer dings, and I frown. "Huh."

"What is it?"

"Speaking of progress, I think I found a way to find out where Mardon is," I explain in a rush, sliding into my chair and quickly logging onto the CCPD system. "The Shelby – assuming that was the getaway car – has a top speed of 170 miles per hour. If I access the bank security cameras, then we can tell when they left the scene, and we can find out how far, hypothetically, they could have gotten thus far."

"Which would narrow down the search field and mean that Joe and Chyre could find him quicker," Barry adds.

"Right," I nod, accessing the camera footage that had been subpoenaed from the bank immediately following the crime. I fast-forward to when the bank's silent alarm had gone off – around 12:30 – and hit 'play',

I sit back and watch the screen, keeping my eyes locked on Mardon as he goes through Committing a Robbery 101 – threatening the teller and forcing the crowd back takes about five minutes, making his demands and doing the usual Villainous Monologuing took around fifteen; leaving the bank, confronting the security guards, and shooting another man takes another seven. Finally, at exactly 1:08 p.m., Clyde Mardon leaves the scene, speeding off the frame and leaving nothing but skid marks.

"Yes!" I shout excitedly. "Okay, so it is now…1:55. That gives us a window of 47 minutes, and if distance equals speed times time then we have a radius of…" I scribble down a few calculations on a spare piece of paper. "133.1667 miles."

Barry turns to his own computer and pulls up a map of Central City, drawing a radius with the bank as the center point. "That's nearly all of the city."

"Nearly," I emphasize. "And if we're basing this off their previous sprees, they've stayed in the city, at least for now, so we can eliminate a few parts…" I cross out the places where the radius spills over the city limits.

"That's still a lot of area," Barry points out grimly.

"I know." I sigh frustratedly and lean back against my desk. "That can't be it. Like Joe said, Mardon can't get away this time."

"He won't," Barry assures me, his voice perfectly confident. "We're smarter than him. We're going to find him."

"Than what do you suggest? 'Cause I'm all out of ideas," I snap, annoyed, as I cross my arms and curl my hands into fists.

Barry just stares at the map for a long, tense moment, and I'm just about to sit back down when he asks, "If you were a murderous bank robber, where would hide?"

"What?" I reel back. "Why me? Why not you?"

"Because out of the two of us, you're the most likely to go on a killing spree," he tells me in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Thanks," I drawl, but uncurl my fists and tap my fingers against my arm, focusing on the matter at hand. "Well...if I'd just committed the same crime that our pal Clyde did, then I'd probably go somewhere...rural. Edge of town. Police are going to be swarming the city within an hour of the robbery itself, so if I wanted to stay within the city, I'd head for an area with little to no police officers."

"Like a farm?" Barry asks, a familiar glint in his eyes.

"Yes…" I respond cautiously. "Why?"

"Remember the feces I collected?"

"I couldn't forget it if I tried."

"It wasn't human," he explained excitedly. "My best guess is cow. And if was in the treads of the car – which the Mardons probably brought to the scene - then analyzing the sample…"

"...should lead us back to where the car came from," I finish, a smile spreading across my face. "Great. How long should that take?"

Barry walks over to the spectrometer and inserts the sample, pressing a few buttons before looking back up at me, his mouth pressed into a flat line. "Three hours."

"Wonderful," I groan for the second time in as many hours, my spirits falling as I plop down into my chair.

Here's a piece of advice about science that they don't tell you in high school or college or any other classes anywhere: science can be boring as shit. Sure, collecting information and connecting puzzle pieces was amazing, yes, but sitting around waiting for collected evidence to be run through a machine? Easily the most boring thing I'd ever had to do.

Three hours after Barry started the analysis of the feces, the lab was nearly dead; Barry and I had completed profiles on both of the victims and run them downstairs, letting the detectives get started on tracking down the grieving families. However, that meant that we had nothing else to do – all of the samples from the previous Mardon cases had been wrapped up, and the current case had taken precedence all morning. All of this simply lead to one conclusion: I. Was. So. Goddamn. Bored.

I was just beginning my 43rd attempt at solving the 5x5 Rubix Cube I kept on my desk when the monotony was broken by a familiar face walking through the door.

"Iris!" I jump out of my chair, setting the Cube down and hugging Iris West, my best friend and sister in all but blood. "You have no idea how glad I am to see you."

"What, is life too boring without me?" she teases, hitching a hip up onto the corner of my desk.

"Absolutely," I deadpan, lips twitching. "I've been running tests on literal crap all morning."

"Sucks to be you," she sing-songs with a laugh. "Aren't you supposed to be used to it by now?"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" I sigh dramatically, then shake my head. "In all seriousness, there was a shooting earlier and we're still waiting on the results, which means we might not be able to make it to the demonstration."

"Aw, that sucks," Iris pouts. "When will you know one way or the other?"

I glance at the clock. "Right about…now." As if on cue, Barry's computer beeps, a message popping up on the screen. "Barry, you wanna get that?"

No response.

"Barry? Barry!" I shout, snapping my fingers in front of my brother's face. Barry quickly tears his gaze away from Iris, whom he'd definitely not been staring at like a lovesick puppy.

"Sorry, what?"

"Your computer?" I prompt, pointing at the machine behind him. "D'you wanna see what the poop has to tell us?"

"Uh, sure. Iris, you look…amazing," Barry stammers as he turns to the computer. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Iris, however, remains completely oblivious as she scoffs. "Yeah, right. I literally just threw this on because the new guy spilled coffee all over me."

"Don't discredit yourself." I move around my desk to Barry's side, standing on my tip-toes to peer over his shoulder. "Is that the molecular breakdown? What's the second-to-last one? It seems familiar."

"It's oxytetracycline," Barry informs me. "An antibiotic used in chicken and cow feed to fight off infections."

"The farm we're looking for used it in their feed," I realize. "We can use feed distribution centers to trace feed that both uses OXT and goes to Central City."

Barry nods and gets to work, fingers flying over the keyboard as he tracks down major distribution centers in the area.

"Do I need to leave you two alone?" Iris asks from behind me, sounding half-serious. "I can come back later."

"No, stay," I call over my shoulder. "We're almost done." Turning back to the monitor, I ask, "Does that narrow it down any?"

"Let's find out." He presses a key and the list of feed orders going to Central City is condensed to only four, all of which have oxytetracycline highlighted in the ingredients list. "I'd say it does."

"Right?" I smirk. "Gotcha, Mardon." I quickly write down the names and addresses of the four farms and move back to my desk, grabbing my bag. "Now we just run this downstairs to Joe and we should be off the hook."

"And free to go to the demonstration at STAR Labs," Barry interjects eagerly. "We might even get to see the particle accelerator turn on!"

I grin, but Iris just looks vaguely exasperated. "What's so important about the particle accelerator, anyway?"

"It's going to exponentially expand the collective knowledge of the human race," I enthuse as we make our way out of the lab. "It's like…like an iceberg," I explain. "Imagine the tip of the iceberg – that's what we know about molecular science right now." I pause to see Iris nodding along with the analogy.

"And then the rest of the iceberg – the submerged part – is what we haven't learned yet. It's what the particle accelerator will be able to show us," I explain, bouncing down the last two steps and onto the main floor of the precinct.

"Sounds…enlightening," Iris offers.

I just grin and approach Joe's desk, where the detective himself was pouring over security camera footage from the bank.

"We've got a lead on Mardon," I announce, dropping the paper on the desk. "The fecal matter we recovered from the scene belong to a cow that had ingested OXT, or oxytetracycline."

"And that is a list of all the farms in Central City that still use oxytetracycline in their feed," Barry continues. "I'll bet you'll find a sweet Shelby at one of them."

Joe laughs and shakes his head. "You two never cease to amaze me, you know that?"

"Well, Dad," Iris pipes up, leaning against the desk, "now that Barry and Ellie have done your poop science, you think you can let them go to STAR Labs?"

Joe opens his mouth as if to protest, but then he catches sight of the triple-doe-eye Barry, Iris and I were throwing his way. He'd never been able to resist it.

"Fine," he sighs, admitting defeat. "Go."

"Yes!" I whoop, darting forward to give Joe and quick hug before taking off out the door. "Come on, come on, come on!"

"Slow down," Barry chuckles, follow me outside and holding the door for Iris. "It's not a race."

"Yeah, but I'll get a better view of the podium," I taunt, hurrying down the sidewalk. "Come on!"

STAR Labs – or Scientific and Technological Advanced Research Laboratories – was located in the middle of downtown Central City, its skyscraper dominating the skyline. It could be counted on to be busy on any given day, but that was nothing compared to crowd that had gathered around the building tonight.

The building was buzzing with activity; citizens, scientists, security guards and the press were all milling around in the main lobby, but the three of us manage to fight our way through the crowd just as Dr. Harrison Wells, head of STAR Labs, steps up to the podium.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he greets as the crowd quiets down. "I wanted to thank each and every one of you for choosing to come out tonight to witness this wonderful advancement to the scientific world."

The crowd cheers and Wells waits for everyone to quiet down again before continuing.

"It has always been the dream of those of us at STAR Labs to bring the common people advancements in science and technology that no one would ever see possible," he announces. "The particle accelerator is a shining example of this idea – it will change the way we think about physics, medicine, and power itself. It will bring about the future of the world – and, trust me, the future will be here faster than you think."

The room erupts into deafening applause, cameras flashing all over the room. I look over at Barry to see him clapping along like the rest of the room, but his smile didn't quite reach his eyes and every once in a while he'd shoot Iris a forlorn glance.

I knew that look – that look meant Barry had tried to tell Iris how he felt, again, and he'd been turned away…again.

I sigh reach over to squeeze his arm. When he looks over at me, I raise an eyebrow in a silent question, not wanting to shout over the crowd. Barry blinks, nods, and gives me a genuine smile, returning the squeeze in an assurance that he was alright.

Letting the matter drop, I turn back to the podium, where Dr. Wells was now answering questions, just as a shout comes from the front of the crowd and a man bursts out of the crowd, running past the three of us and snatching Iris' bag as he does so.

"My laptop!" she shouts. "It's got my dissertation!"

Barry, in all his noble stupidity, takes off after the thief, shoving his way through the crowd. I turn to Iris and make sure she was okay before taking off in pursuit, not even sure what I was going to do if I caught the guy.

I needn't have worried, however – I round a corner in the parking lot and nearly run into Barry, who was leaning against a wall, short of breath. I skid to a stop by his side, panting and bracing my hands on my knees.

"You okay?" I ask worriedly. "Are you having an asthma attack again? Where'd the guy go?"

Barry sucks in a deep breath, shakes his head to signify that no, he was fine, and points down the alleyway.

I straighten up and get ready to chase after the thief, given that he wasn't long gone by now, when another voice stops me in my tracks.

"Police! Freeze, unless you wanna find out what a bullet feels like."

Good, a little voice in my head whispers. Let the cop handle this. It's his job, not yours.

"Yeah," I huff. I lean back against the wall, willing my heart to stop pounding. Between Barry and I, I knew that I had a slightly better chance of catching anyone on foot, but neither of us were particularly athletic.

My thoughts are cut off by Iris making her way around the corner. "Ellie! Are you okay? Did you catch the guy?"

"He's over there with a cop." I point to the end of the alley. Iris leaves, and I turn to my brother. "Can we go home now?"

"I might've left my jacket at work," Barry admits sheepishly. "And it looks like it's gonna rain, so…"

"…so back to work it is," I surmise, pushing off the wall. "Alright, c'mon."

Barry nods and follows me out.

Just as we were leaving STAR Labs, raindrops begin to fall, true to Barry's word, and by the time we reach the CCPD it's progressed to a full-on torrential downpour.

I duck inside the building with Barry hot on my heels. I shake my hair out like a dog, waving to the night shift security guards as we make our way up to the lab.

I unlock the door to find about an inch of water on the floor. "Goddamn it, Barry, did you leave the skylight open again?"

"I didn't know it was going to rain!" he protests, slogging through the water to make sure his computer was okay as I do the same.

"The janitor's going to kill us," I mutter as I put my computer through safe shutdown procedures. "Come on, grab your jacket and let's go. I want to actually get some sleep tonight."

"Yeah, lemme just close this," he mutters, grabbing onto the chain that would close the skylight. Overhead, thunder roars, and I suddenly get the feeling that something bad was coming.

I move towards Barry, placing a hand on his back. "Barry, we should-"

I'm interrupted for the second time that night by a deafening roar that seems to come from just above our heads. The air around us suddenly seems charged and the smell of ozone burns my nostrils as a blinding flash of light erupts within the room, sending me flying back across the room.

The last thing I'm aware of is an explosion of pain in my head just before the world sinks into an everlasting blackness.