Flash

Issue #2

"Run from the light – Part Two"

"Out of the way! Get out of the way!"

The doctor continued to order various residents of the hospital to quickly move out of the crash cart's path. Jay Garrick, who lay sprawled out on the cart, was barely stable and his breathing was slightly erratic. The emergency medical technicians that had arrived first on the scene had said it looked like a heart attack.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you'll have to stay here," the doctor said over his shoulder. "We'll do everything we can, but you and the young man can't come beyond this point."

Jay's wife, Joan Garrick, reluctantly let go of the crash cart that her husband was riding on. Bart Allen squeezed her shoulder to try and alleviate some of the trauma but knew she hadn't even noticed him standing beside her.

Bart had raced over the scenario in his head a thousand times but he still was unsure of what had happened. They were about to eat a nice meal of Chinese food that Jay had picked up in Beijing earlier that day. Suddenly, Jay had doubled over, clutching his chest.

They called it a heart attack, thought Bart, but do superheroes get heart attacks?

"What's his status?" the doctor ordered more than asked.

"He's in VFIB," one of the accompanying nurses said.

"We're loosing him!" chimed in another one.

Several machines were hooked up to Jay that spewed out various bits of information on his condition. One squeaked along with his brain waves, another cheered about his lung capacity, and yet another one beeped with his pulse. As the team of medical professionals shot through another set of swinging doors, the last machine monitoring his blood pressure fell silent.

"Paddles!" the doctor yelled. "Give me the paddles! We're not waiting until we get to the operating room; I'm going to zap him here!"

One of the nurses handed the doctor the defibrillation paddles. They only took a moment to charge before the doctor slapped them on Jay's chest and yelled for everyone to move clear of the body.

Jay Garrick, an example for other heroes to follow, a man who had been saving lives over several decades, a husband to a loving wife…had no heartbeat.

---

"I'veanalyzedeveryaspectofyourlifeandIstillfindyouractionsboggling."

The lightning fast man dressed in the scarlet uniform of the Flash blurred across Heat Wave's field of vision. The once reformed villain was in a state of serious confusion. The Flash he was accustomed to had never been so violent. Blood was dripping from his mouth and he thought his left shoulder might have been dislocated.

"What was that?" Heat Wave asked over the roar of Flash's slipstream. "You're speaking way too damn fast! I can't understand you!"

Mick Rory, who had known that fire was his destiny since he was a child, unleashed a wave of superheated air molecules right in Flash's path. The shimmering wall broke apart at the amount of air pressure Flash forced through it and Heat Wave's defense diffused into nothing.

"I. Will. Talk. Slower," Flash said, irritation in his voice. "If. You. Decide. What. You. Are."

"Huh? I liked you better when I couldn't make out what you were saying. At least I could imagine you made sense."

Heat Wave sent out another volley of fire, surrounding himself this time with a wall of spiraling fire-towers. The flames licked at the sky while the base of the fire melted itself into the asphalt. Mick knew that anything would catch on fire if you just got it hot enough. He had experimented enough to know just how hot something had to be in order to combust.

As the flames flapped back and forth, Heat Wave saw Flash in between them, staring right through the blazing towers. The Scarlet Speedster wasn't exactly standing still…his image was split into several different versions of himself. If Heat Wave were to squint he would almost swear he saw exact, faded copies of Flash shimmering around him.

Flash brought his arms back and slapped them together in front of him. The resulting shockwave blew out the fire-towers, leaving Heat Wave completely vulnerable to the machinations of the fastest man alive.

"I. Profiled. You." Flash said, stepping forward and grabbing Heat Wave by his asbestos-lined collar. "You. Went. Legit. But. Decided. To. Return. To. Crime."

"My mind had been messed with!" Heat Wave defended. "Playing errand-boy for the FBI wasn't who I really was. With the Rogue War last year I found out the truth. I'm a Rogue, through and through. I know who I am these days, but you're acting more like a lunatic, even when you had that other costume. The one with the silver in it. The brain is a fragile thing--."

"Yes. I. Know. How. Fragile. A. Mind. Can. Be."

Flash ripped Heat Wave's patented weapon out of his hands faster than normal eyes could follow. Flipping it around in his hand, he palmed the handle upside down and pinched the trigger between his thumb and forefinger. By rubbing it in his fingers and building up the friction, the trigger started to disintegrate until it was completely gone. Flash then turned his attention back to Heat Wave, still grasped by the collar in his other hand.

"I'm a Rogue," Heat Wave proclaimed. "I'm respected in Iron Heights. Hell, I bet I even get a double-sized cell. So let's roll, Flash. I'm sure the Warden missed me."

"I. Never. Said. I. Was. Taking. You. To. Jail."

Flash reaffirmed his grip on Heat Wave's collar and lifted him off the ground. He started to run forward, reaching one hundred miles per hour in half a second. Heat Wave flailed in his grasp, but inertia had kicked in and he couldn't release himself. After another few seconds, the pair reached over three miles per hour and Heat Wave could barely raise his remaining good arm against the pressure.

"IprofiledalltheRogues," Flash hollered. "Youwereoneoftheworst. Youhadredeemedyourselfandhadevendoneheroicdeeds. Youhadmadeyourselfbetter. Youwereanexampleofwhatapersoncando."

Heat Wave focused his vision passed the increasingly unstable Flash and noticed they were now running across a large body of water. He smelled the salt and realized they must be running across the Pacific Ocean. Or it may have been the Atlantic Ocean. At the speeds they were reaching it could easily have been either one.

"Youhitrockbottomandremadeyourselfinabetterimage."

They rocketed passed an oil platform, the waves caused by Flash's slipstream crashing into the support pillars. Surprisingly, Flash looped around and started circling the oil rig instead of running deeper out into the ocean.

"Butthenyourenegedyourprogressionandwentbacktothewayyouwere."

Flash tightened the loop the pair was making around the oil platform, bringing them closer to the center where the black crude was pumped up from beneath the waves.

"You'reafailure. Youneedtoberebootedsoyoucanstartover."

Flash encircled the central pump and forced his fist into the metal with each rotation. He had broken a hole into the metal cylinder within seconds and the dark oil began spewing forth onto the water. When he decided enough had come out, Flash shot back out into the open water and the oil was pulled out with him, guided inside of his slipstream.

"MymindhadrecentlybeentamperedwithsoIunderstandwhathashappenedtoyou. HoweverIalsoknowit'snoexcuse. Thereisalwaysachoice."

Several miles away from the oil platform, Flash whipped around and changed his direction, causing the oil following him to splash into the water, resting on top of it and refusing to be diluted.

"Oh my god!" Heat Wave screamed. "What are you doing?"

"Considerthisyourbaptismbyfire."

Flash let go of Heat Wave's collar and tossed him into the center of the oil spill. The dark oil sloshed over him but he was able to tread the water resting beneath the mess, keeping his mouth open to breathe.

Heat Wave started to panic. The salty water crept into his nose and he thought he was going to drown. He was in the middle of the ocean and no one knew where he was. Even if he could fight against the weight of his asbestos suit and remain afloat in the water indefinitely, the oil would eventually drag him down. It was then he felt his vest and noticed something was missing. The pit of his stomach fell out as he realized exactly what Flash had meant by a baptism by fire.

"Everseewaterlightonfire?" Flash commented casually as he sped passed the desperate Rogue. Just as he ran close to the edge of the oil spill, Flash opened his hand and let the napalm grenade he had liberated from Heat Wave's vest fall from his hands. The pin he pulled caused it to detonate but he was three miles away at that point. Heat Wave, however, wasn't so lucky.

Workers on the oil platform eventually radioed the Coast Guard when they saw the giant pyre rise into the sky. The burning oil on top of the ocean emitted a large amount of smoke and was hard to miss.

Heat Wave found himself at the center of the inferno and for the first time since he was in diapers, he was afraid of fire.

---

"Move your big butt, lardo!"

Chester P. Runk, also known as the Chunk, had long since let go of his pride. Insults like the one just thrown no longer hurt him. The young boy who had said it was only lashing out at society or maybe rebelling against his parents…at least that's what Chunk told himself. Chunk weighed several hundred pounds and had been on the receiving end of many comments similar to the one just tossed at him.

"Wait…for your…turn….in line," Chunk replied. He always talked slow. It was something his best friend, Wally West, had found extremely irritating.

"I'm through waiting, tubs," the young kid shot back.

At the great disapproval of several people already waiting in the long line at the Department of Motor Vehicles, the sixteen year-old boy ran to the front of the line ahead of Chunk, who had been waddling slowly to the teller. Chunk thought impatience was something the latest generation seemed to savor.

Chunk had the power to make the kid disappear if he wanted…literally. Chunk possessed a singularity inside of his gut, which enabled him to transport anything he wanted inside a pocket dimension. He had abused his abilities throughout his life every time someone made a rude comment to him. That all changed when he met Wally West.

Chunk rolled his eyes as the youth stepped to the front of the line, right in from of him. What could he do? He knew what he wanted to do: pop the kid out of this dimension and maybe bring him back in a few years. But that's not what Wally would have wanted.

"When…are you…coming…back, Wally?"

---

Whoever the League had set up to be Batman had decided to leave the satellite and Flash thought it was about time he made tracks, too. The Atom and the Elongated Man had tampered with all of their minds somehow so they were confused about their very identities and were easier to control. Flash's mind healed itself eventually, but it had taken time for it to happen. It was ironic, given that his powers were time-based.

Once his mind had sifted through enough of the fog, all he had to do in order to break their programming was timeshift back one nanosecond. A single fraction of a second was all it took to restore his consciousness. The funny part of it all was the League really didn't have to do much to adjust his mind. He didn't really consider himself a villain…more like a coach. Someone who pushed you to your limits. After he had "fixed" himself, he decided to stay in the Flash costume and work toward being an example for all other speedsters to follow.

His personal theory concerning heroes was that they needed to be broken down in order to stand stronger. What better way to do that than to be allied with the world's strongest ones?

He knew about the supposed Flash Legacy that reached hundreds of years into the future. Wally West may be long dead and forgotten but there would be others. Now that he was back in Keystone City, he would focus his attention on the only other person claiming the Flash mantle: Jay Garrick.

Before he located the elderly man and taught him his personal vision, however, Flash felt like he needed make a very special visit to a very special location. The Flash Museum still stood in shambles as the city was having problems getting financial backing for its renovation. Without a resident Flash living in the city, the people thought their tax dollars were better spent elsewhere. Construction equipment was strewn about the front lawn but no one manned the large machines.

"I'llremindthepeoplewhatatrueherois."

Just as all the flickering images of Flash put one step forward to enter the grounds, a large bolt of brilliant light touched down in front of what used to be the main entrance. The resulting display of loud thunder and focused light was enough to knock Flash off of his feet. The crimson dressed man skidded across the torn up concrete and smacked up against a knocked over statue of Barry Allen.

Wisps of smoke sprung out from ground zero as the light dissipated. A man, amazingly, not only survived the blast but was standing in the center of where it had been. Flash blinked his eyes and tried to make out who the lone figure was standing where the lightning had touched down. Whoever it was had long, black hair and pale skin. Blue energy rippled across his body as the smoke began to clear away.

It only took a split second for Flash to realize who the man was. He had spent what felt like eons studying those among the displays in the Flash Museum. Flash jumped to his feet and rushed to the man, his fists charged with the resulting kinetic energy. Before he knew what had happened, Flash was hitting the ground again, his head slamming against the side of a bulldozer. He was shell-shocked. He hadn't even seen the man move. He fast was he?

"You…you're not the Flash," the naked man said, blue energy rippling across his body. "What happened? Am I back?"

Flash looked up at the man from his spot on the ground and saw him raise his hand to his face, as if he were seeing it for the first time in a long while. The hand started to wave back and forth, faster and faster, almost uncontrollably. A moment later and the hand was a solid blur in the air, hovering in front of the man's face.

"You'reinthewrongtime," Flash said. "I'mtheFlashnowandyouaren'tfastenoughtostopme!"

"What's going on?" the man asked, moving one step closer to the red-clad speedster. "Last thing I remember I was pulled into the Speed Force and someone grabbed me…Wally? Where's Wally?"

"TheSpeedForceisdeandI'mgoingtokillyoutoo!"

Flash shot forward like a rocket, plowing into the dark-haired man. The man wavered on Flash's shoulder for a few steps before he backpedaled away from Flash at superspeed and leap-frogged over him. Flash was in shock yet again. How was he able to do that?

"I…know you!" the man exclaimed. "This must be before Wally was able to…you aren't the Flash! You're Hunter Zolomon, better known as Zoom!"

Zoom whipped his head around to toss an angry look at his newfound opponent. It was true, he had once been called Zoom and Hunter Zolomon before that…but now he was Flash and he wouldn't give up the title without a fight. More crimson images split off of Zoom as he began to vibrate faster and faster. Each image was a picosecond behind the last. Every one of them had a look of pure bloodlust in their eyes.

"IamtheFlash!"

Zoom raced forward, pouring on the speed as he approached his enemy. The long-haired man with pale skin stood completely still as Zoom charged closer. At the last moment before impact, the stranger closed his eyes and seemingly phased out of existence. Zoom was caught by surprise and his momentum was too great for him to put on the brakes and stop himself from crashing into what was left of a fountain. He sat up in a large puddle of water, droplets falling all around him from the now decimated sprinkle system.

"It's starting to come back to me," the man said, who had reappeared exactly where he had been standing. His entire body was vibrating back and forth at a speed even Zoom was amazed by.

The man was no longer naked. The blue energy swirling around him had begun to condense into something more solid. It covered his skin like a wetsuit, constantly flowing around his body and emitting a soft blue glow. The newly formed suit was smooth and void of any distinguishing mark, although what looked like goggles had formed over the man's eyes.

"I know what's happened to Wally West and I know what you're trying to do," the man said. "I'm hear to make things right."

The man's suit flashed a brilliant shade of blue just before the two masters of velocity left their footholds on the Earth and sprinted toward each other. Twin sonic booms erupted around them, shattering what glass remained in the Flash Museum.

---

Next issue: Who is this guy? Where's Wally? What about Jay?