The Scarlet Speedster

When people said that time stood still, it was hyperbole. For Jay Garrick, the hyperbolic became reality. His peers in the university lab transformed into statues, frozen in place. Elliot prepared a beaker, the flame caught in a blue spark, unable to fully ignite. He could see the water suspended in its fall from the tap, Professor Clariss washing his hands for eternity.

In the corner of the room sat the radio that had prompted this surreal state of affairs. The last statement it made:

"We interrupt this program for a special news bulletin. The Keystone Special, the newest streamliner train on the Missouri-Pacific rail line, has suffered a serious malfunction and become a runaway train. Eyewitness reports indicate that the train has bypassed several planned stops, including Central City, though there have been no injuries so far. The train contains numerous passengers and rail employees. Authorities warn everyone to avoid rail lines and stations and promise that they are doing their best to end this calamity."

Jay caught himself before he rushed off. If he were to leave the lab abruptly, there would be no hiding his new powers. The real issue was reverting to normal speed as he examined the still image before him.

In the months since the accident, Jay had found that it was hard to remain in the same flow as everyone else around him. At first, his perception of time slowed down with even the slightest trigger. An already boring lecture became sheer torture as it shifted to slow motion. He had developed techniques, a set of mental exercises, to relax and return to normality. Even with these tools, the unexpected set him off. Joan slipping on a puddle. A car backfiring as he walked home. And now this radio broadcast.

There were benefits, of course. He was rarely late anymore, no matter how long he dallied. He was privy to all manner of hidden phenomena, kept away from human eyes by a deficit in perception. Jay watched hummingbirds flap their wings in slow rhythmic patterns. He could witness the entire arc of a lightning bolt as it raced to the ground. He could take in the entire transformation of Joan's face into a smile, the crinkle of skin under her eyes, the delicate arch of her brows and the bloom of red on her cheeks.

His football career at Midwestern had taken off, with Jay's athletic prowess going from promising to downright inspired. He made sure to dial back the speed enough that it remained in the realm of possibility. There had been interest from sports teams on the professional level, namely the Metropolis Meteors and the Central City Cougars, but there was already an element of dishonesty in Jay's athletics that killed his desire to take it further. He was glad, however, that it seemed to catch Joan's attention

Speed proved alienating as well. Jay was now accustomed to a world inhabited by the suggestions of people, locked in their pantomimes of life. No one could match his pace. He worried that one day he would be caught in this frozen world, stuck in that tick of the clock.

There was no time for an existential crisis. Jay closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He held it in for a measured count, before fully exhaling his lungs. He willed his body to slow, to return to normalcy.

The world caught up to him. The lab once again bustled with activity.

"Hey, turn that up," said one of his classmates.

It continued its dire report, as more and more of the students turned in equal horror and fascination. Jay considered his options for an exit.

Professor Clarris stepped to the radio and switched it off.

"It is a shame, but we cannot allow the outside world to occupy our thoughts. The work, here, in this lab is important. Turn your mind to that which you can control," said the professor.

The others protested, but they returned to their work. Jay leaned over to Elliot.

"Hey, buddy. Think you could help a pal out?"

"Depends on what it is," said Elliot.

"I've got a date with Joan right after this, and in my brilliance, I forgot to get her the flowers she was asking for."

"Uh-huh."

"Would you be able to cover for me while I'm gone? I'll make it up to you."

Elliot looked at Jay with a bemused expression.

"You never make it easy for yourself, do you Jay? I suppose I can't leave my buddy in the lurch."

"Aces. Thanks, Elliot."

Elliot pointed his thumb towards Professor Clariss.

"How do you plan on getting by our dear professor?"

Jay smiled and winked. Then he collapsed on the desk, dramatically falling to the ground, careful to not hit his head. The other students reacted immediately, rushing around him. He felt arms lift him up, as he made his eyes weakly flutter open.

"What happened, Garrick?" asked a concerned peer.

"I.. I don't know. One minute, I was fine, then.. everything got too bright. Did, did I faint?"

He didn't even need to bring up the accident. The others declared that it was a symptom of the heavy water he inhaled a few months back, the same thing that prompted his sudden influx of speed.

"Garrick," said Professor Clariss, "Are you able to return to your work?"

Before Jay could respond, Elliot chimed in, "Come on, professor. The guy's been through a lot lately. I think he needs to get some rest. I mean, look at how pale he is!"

Clariss scowled, but relented.

"Get the rest you clearly need Garrick. The rest of you will need to make up for his absence."

"Thanks, professor," said Jay weakly. He made his way to the door, as pitifully as possible.

"Garrick, one last thing."

Jay turned to Clariss.

"Make sure this does not become a trend. One wouldn't want your studies to suffer."

Jay nodded and left.

Jay rushed through the halls of the university. He held back enough that he wouldn't create any gusts of wind that would draw undue attention. Other students were talking about the train, which was nearly at Keystone City. He didn't have long.

He entered his dorm and rifled through his desk, his fingers finding the hidden compartment he installed. He retrieved the costume and his helmet. The former was a simple red and blue outfit, with a broad yellow bolt of lightning angled upwards over his chest. It had taken effort to produce a material that held up to the stresses of his speed. Many late nights in the lab. The same behavior that caused the accident.

The helmet was a relic of his late father's service in the Great War. Jay installed a pair of lightning bolts on each end, a flourish to go with the insignia. He gazed at his own reflection. He was aware of its weight.

What was he thinking? Jay had helped out a handful of people in the last two months. Saved a woman about to be struck by a car. Stopped a mugging. Returned a stolen car. After a witness described how he arrived and left in a flash, the local papers had christened him The Flash. It felt good, helping others, but those were trivial compared to this challenge. Stopping a train? Who was he kidding?

He walked back to his desk, ready to put the helmet away, when the newspaper caught his attention. Elliot must have brought it by earlier, when Jay was out for morning practice. It was an issue of the Daily Planet, a Metropolis newspaper, but increasingly popular across the country for the front row seats it provided to the spectacle that was Superman. Jay was not immune being swept along in the awesome power of the hero.

The front page of this particular issue showed Superman holding back a train, arms outstretched, feet dug into the ground. The front of the engine was dented inwards by his power and the rails behind him cracked and turned from their position in the earth. It was a moment of impact, preserved in that single shot. The headline read, "More Powerful Than a Locomotive: Superman Stops Malfunctioning Train, Saves Dozens."

The fire was lit. Jay donned his costume and raised the helmet to his head. He ran his fingers along the rim. There was no time for cowardice.

The streets of Keystone City were a blur as the Flash darted through them. He weaved his way through the traffic and pedestrians, his destination locked. Within a minute, he reached the rail line. He pivoted and took off in search of the train.

It wasn't long before he found the Keystone Special, hurtling along the tracks at what must have been near its top speed. It was sleek in its design, a narrow blade-like quality to the engine at the front. The cars shook violently with each shift. It wouldn't take much to derail it at this rate, even without the prospect of a collision.

He entered the engineer's room and found a man frantically working at controls that appeared damaged He was a middle aged man with thin gray hair, his face masked by sweat and fear .As the man took notice of his presence, Jay remembered to vibrate his face, to obscure his features.

"My god! It's you!" the man shouted.

"No time for shock. What happened here?"

The engineer shook his head in disbelief, before he stammered, "I've never seen anything like it. The controls just stopped working once we hit Central City. I've tried everything. The emergency brake's out too. I've wrangled them for what feels like hours, but its no use."

The man was on the verge of full on panic.

"What's your name, friend?"

"Harry. Harry Lampert."

"Pleased to meet you Harry. From the sound of it you know who I am. I promise you everything will be alright and I don't make a promise lightly."

Jay hoped this promise wasn't an empty one.

"I'm going to need some help Harry. Can you do that for me?"

Both men were jostled as the train took a curve at reckless speed.

"I can do my best."

"Good, good. How many people are on this train? How many cars?"

"Eight cars, counting this one. Six passenger, one dining car. Should be about fifty-three people on this ride, including workers."

"Great, Harry, great. Outside of the brakes are there any ways to slow this train?"

"I've tried to cut the fuel supply. Diesel. But, it'll take a while to lose this speed. We're bound to hit something before that."

"Leave that worry to me. How about uncoupling this car from the rest?"

Harry produced a grim smile.

"That's the fun part. These new trains are fixed. No way to uncouple them."

Jay frowned. No surefire solutions.

"You stay here and try to disable the fuel supply. I'll start to evacuate the train and buy us some time. Remember, I'm counting on you Harry."

Harry nodded. The Flash leapt from the compartment door and ran alongside the train. It was well within a range he could comfortably keep pace, but that granted him little confidence. It was too heavy to stop, at a speed that would be catastrophic if it crashed.

He examined all of the cars. They were sleek, like the engine. Gold and silver lining ran above and below the windows. The passengers were fixed to their seats, braced for the ending they all knew was inevitable at this rate. He would have to evacuate it car by car.

The Flash fell back to the rear of the train. He used a surge of effort to leap to the rear carriage and wrenched the door open. The beleaguered passengers looked to him. Jay took in their terrified faces, some slick with tears. A few were actively praying.

"All right folks, this may not have been how you wanted to get to Keystone, but I'm here to make sure you have a pleasant end to your journey. Stay calm and hold still, this might be disorienting."

One by one, the Flash grabbed each passenger and took them to a safe spot by the side of the road, no worse for wear. He left them dazed. Most of them were like his classmates earlier, statues, as if he were hauling them to a new location. But, a few, like the older woman in the elegant hat or the boy with red hair, clutching his comic book to his chest, were aware and moving as Jay carried them. It was as though they were pulled into his slipstream. The woman whispered thanks repeatedly, while the boy looked up at Jay with wide eyes. There was no time to ponder it.

The first two cars went smoothly. The dining car introduced a complication. Like so many times before he got his powers, Jay was undone by a proliferation of alcohol. He was unable to reflect on this fact, as his foot slipped on an errant bottle, sending him sailing through the air.

The Flash crashed onto the counter. He rolled off of it, his ankle wracked with pain. Bottles fell with him, smashing near his head. He felt a sting by his ear.

Messy laughter erupted from his only companions, a blond man in a wrinkled suit and one of the conductors. Both appeared to have decided their final moments would be best spent absolutely sauced. The whole car displayed the results of their pillaging, with loose bottles clinking every couple seconds.

Jay checked his ankle. It was tender, but it would still hold weight. A complication he didn't need.

"Say! You're that odd fella. The one in the papers," said the drunken passenger.

"Yeah," echoed his drinking buddy.

"Bet you're here to save us. Too bad Gary didn't wait."

"What do you mean?" said the Flash.

"Gary said," the man was interrupted by a hiccup, "that it wasn't worth it to wait for someone to save us. That he had to save hiiiimmmssseeeeelllllllllllffffffffffffffffff."

Time stretched out before the Flash. He ran to the window at the dining car. Descending in slow motion was the man he presumed to be Gary, his arms and legs pinwheeled beside him. He must have tried to climb up to the roof of the car.

The Flash left the dining car and hit the ground. He ignored the pain that shot through his ankle. Gary was nearly at the ground. He bolted forth and caught the falling man, though the impact sent them sprawling.

Jay lay the drunk down and took off after the train. His eyes picked up on commotion down the tracks. The Flash sped ahead to investigate. The Keystone Special was fast approaching a rail tower. Halted on the tracks was an automobile. Jay could see three men pushing the car with desperation, but progress was too slow by his calculations.

There was a deviation in the tracks. Not ideal, since the Flash had no idea where it went, but there were few options. There must be a rail switch in the tower. He tried the door, but it was locked. His ankle injury barred the idea of racing up the side, a skill with which he was still not confident. He spied a manual switch further down the line.

The train was too close at this point, even for his speed. Out of options, Jay grabbed his metal cap by its rim and threw it at the switch. It smacked it with a dull clang.

The rails shifted and the train pursued its new course, shuddering as it turned with excess speed. He felt the rush of wind that followed a large object, as the train hurtled past him.

Jay retrieved his helmet.

"It's the Flash!"

"He'll stop that train."

Jay glanced briefly at the people on the tracks. He allowed himself a smile before continuing his chase.

The Flash returned to the engineer's car. Harry was startled by his sudden appearance. There were tools and panels open all throughout the compartment. He could see part of the engine itself as it chugged away.

"I thought that was curtains back there."

"We're not in the clear yet. Any good news?" Jay clutched his ankle, which was swelling rapidly. He didn't have much time left on it.

"I managed to open up the engine. Haven't been able to disconnect the fuel line." Harry looked out the front window. "We got a bigger issue. This line ends soon. Used to go to the stock yards, but they haven't used it since those were torn down."

"There are still passengers aboard. I can't get them all at this rate."

Harry looked at Jay's ankle. His brow scrunched up.

"Save who you can. I'll do my best to kill the power, maybe make the crash less harsh." He chuckled. "Been an engineer for the better part of three decades. Taken trains all up and down this country. I always figured if a disaster was gonna happen out here, it would be a tornado, like back in '24. Suppose we don't get to pick them."

A switch flipped in Jay's mind. His eyes raced around the carriage. They stopped on a crowbar, which he scooped up. Before Harry could interject, he rammed the crowbar between the parts of the engine. The engine let out a nasty screech. Smoke belched into the compartment.

"What the hell was that?" shouted Harry.

"Trust me. A fire is the least of our worries. Go to one of the other cars and hold on tight."

Harry looked concerned, but he did not argue. Jay limped to the door and steeled himself. It was all or nothing.

The Flash ran with his last burst of speed to the front of the train. He propped himself up on the front, as he straddled the angled surface, his feet on the hitch. Smoke was now pouring out of the front car. The train slowed incrementally, but it wouldn't be in time.

At least not without a little help.

The Flash raised both arms in front, hands flat. He rotated them in a circle, gaining speed. They generated a powerful wind through their circulation. The Flash was pressed tight against the train's front.

He kept up the pressure. The wind grew stronger still. The force blasted him backwards, but the train was losing acceleration to the resistance.

The end of the line was in sight. The torn down stock yards were barren save for the remnants of old pens and rusted equipment. A lonesome place to stop. Except the train still had too much force behind it.

The Flash grit his teeth and sped up his arms. His shoulders screamed with pain, nearly torn from their sockets. The metal dug into his backside as the wind became a gale force.

The train's wheels screamed along the tracks and Jay realized he was screaming with it. The wind whirled and whirled. Jay's sight dimmed. Too early for bed, but his eyelids fell all the same.

"You're a young fellow, ain't you?"

Jay sat up with a start. Harry stood over him. His hands pressed into the mud around him, as he awkwardly stood.

"Easy now. That sapped you pretty good."

"The train?"

Jay looked past Harry to the train. The front carriage was off the rails, its wheels and nose dug into the mud, but the other cars were safely on the tracks. The front car was still leaking smoke, but it was only a trickle at this point. He could see the passengers starting to climb down. Near the middle, the two drunks tumbled into the muddy field.

Harry followed his gaze.

"Not the cleanest stop. But far better than the alternative."

Jay realized he wasn't blurring out his face. Harry intuited this reaction.

"Don't worry. I won't tell any tales. Besides, lucky for you, I haven't the faintest idea who you are."

He handed Jay his helmet.

"Harry, I couldn't have done it without you," said Jay with a smile. The two men shook hands, before Jay ran off.

"I finished up on that legwork you asked of me Sarge."

"Anything of note?"

"Couple points of interest.

Took us forever to track down every passenger. The Flash dropped about half of them over a three mile stretch."

"All accounted for?"

"All, but one."

"We sure?"

"Could be a mistake, but we got a couple of the others describing a man that doesn't fit any of the others. Blond, green suit. Funny thing, is they all remember him with an instrument, like a violin or something."

"Weird."

"Gets weirder. None of them can describe where he was during the accident.

And here's the real find.

Someone robbed everyone on this train. Every single person carrying money left it worse for wear."

"No kidding. Awful convenient the train malfunctioned right after. Starting to sound like sabotage"

"Exactly."

"You think the Flash was involved in this? From what they've told us, he's fast enough to rob you without being noticed."

"Too soon to tell Sarge. Why would he stop the crash if was in on it?"

"You got a point. Still, this ain't wrapped up neatly. Tell the boys to keep an eye out for our guardian angel. Might want him to answer a few questions."

"Got it, Sarge."

Jay performed less of a graceful exit and more of a quick dash to a thicket of trees and a long walk back to the city proper. He used a few bursts of speed to avoid being seen, including grabbing some clothes to change into. He left money on the counter. He bundled his helmet and costume up, carrying them over his shoulder.

By the time he limped back to the Midwestern campus it was evening. He was sore, exhausted and in need of a shower. His ankle was completely swollen. No running for a while.

Jay opened to door of his dorm. Sitting on the bed was Joan. Her blond hair was elegantly curled and she wore a lovely maroon dress. Her hands were balled into fists, her light blue eyes boring into him. Her expression was a mixture of disappointment and mounting anger. His stomach dropped.

He saw the anger explode in agonizing detail as the world slowed. It took all his concentration to avoid freezing her in place.

"Jason Garrick. When you asked me on a date this evening, I thought that meant you were actually interested in spending time with me."

Jay opened his mouth, but Joan continued.

"What this has really taught me is that my original instinct about you was correct. You simply can't be taken seriously."

"Joan, please, I'm sorry. Something came up."

"If it was important enough you didn't even care to let me know, then I think there's nothing more to say."

Tears flooded her eyes, even as her expression stayed mad.

"I had such a good time on our last few dates, Jay. I really wanted to be wrong about you."

She stood up and made for the door. Joan bumped his shoulder. The pressure on his ankle made Jay flinch and he dropped his bundle. The helmet clattered onto his floor.

Joan stopped.

She walked over to the helmet, bent down and picked it up. She looked all over its reflective sheen. Her finger caressed the lightning bolt on the edge of the rim. She stared at the top of his costume, the lightning insignia visible.

"The, the Flash?"

Joan looked at him, the anger replaced by confusion.

"But, he stopped that train today. Saved all those people. The train. I heard it on the radio. When I was waiting for you..."

Jay took a deep breath. He sped around the room, changing back into his costume and grabbing his helmet from her faster than Joan could react. He stood tall in full display, if a bit messier than normal.

Joan was speechless, but there was a smile creeping back to her face.

Jay met her grin with one of his own.

"Joan, darling, have I got a story for you."