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Faux DC presents

The Adventures of Wally West, The Fastest Man Alive

#11
Chasing Shadows Pt. 3

by Jonah Rite

My name is Wally West. I'm The Flash, the fastest man alive.

Right now, I'm doing one of my favorite things in the whole wide world. Cutting loose.

I talked to some friends in the police dept. and got my voice on the radio, my face on the news, and any other part of my body sent out wherever it might be the most useful. Although, to be fair they aren't really "my" friends. At the moment, I'm trapped on an alternate world, the only guy who could have brought me here is dead, a super-speed inducing drug has overtaken this reality's Keystone City, and a cadre of speedsters working for a new Professor Zoom has taken this world's Max Mercury hostage, leaving a message for me: "Give yourself up."*

*(Go check out last ish.- Jonah)

All in a day's work, right? So I sent out a message to them: "I'm right here. Come and get me." I'm not running or hiding. They have something I want and I "am" something they want. So at the moment, I'm trying to break up a department store robbery being perpetrated by a bunch of Zoom-junkies, while trying to make as big a spectacle out of myself as possible.

I sent out the message two days ago. No movement. I've been investigating, but can't, for the life of me, discern where the Zoom drug is being produced. I'm beginning to get worried for Max, but remind myself that they might just be coordinating an attack against me. And in the meantime, they're letting Keystone City squirm in the throes of a drug epidemic. In the last three days, crime related to the drug has tripled. The death toll has skyrocketed, both from users who burn out on the lethal toxin and bystanders.

At least seven men have overrun a jewelry store uptown. I've knocked three around enough that they're content to lie dazed in some squad cars. One fell to the ground out of nowhere and started switching. A Zoom side effect. The ugly catch to the drug is a quick but painful death. But that fact hasn't slowed down usage.

I whip around like one lone turn of a tornado as I hear glass shatter behind me. All grace forgotten, my form collides with the floor in a dive as shards of a glass door fly at me faster than I can think. A hood in a black jacket and ski mask looks around franticly, cradling a gun. My favorite kind of smile, a cocky one, spreads across his face as he spies me lying on the floor. His body rockets forward and I take one second to look around and check my options. No sooner do I spot the janitor's mop, probably scattered in the confusion, then it's screaming through the air, landing squarely between his ankles. I ignore the painful sounding "boom" as he flies over my head and into the wall behind us.

A sharp pain fills my back as a metal bar connects with my spine. The momentum knocks me forward, but I'm a pro at this. The guy who hit me, some punk with tattoos and dreds, looks pretty proud of himself. He shouldn't. If he was that smart, he would have hit me in the head. I roll with the impact, forcing the pain back from my mind. As soon as my fingers touch the floor, I rock forward and donkey-kick straight back into the man's stomach. The familiar "whoosh" of a human being flying in the air tickles my ears as he conveniently lands in a pile on top of the other unconscious guy.

I really didn't plan it that way.

That's when I see the guy pulling the rifle on a store-clerk who didn't make her way out in time. A short Native American woman in a business suit balls her eyes out on her knees as another man, all clad in black, gestures angrily towards a room in the back. Possibly the safe. Looks like one member of this group of crooks wants to press his luck.

That's when the man jerks his arm back and cocks his weapon. The woman lets out a piercing shriek. Her high, shrill hysterics echo throughout the room and last for as long as it takes me to burst forth, make a track-star long jump onto a glass display case and cascade through the air. I pretend for a second that I can see the hairs on the back of the robber's neck shift, alerting him to my presence. But in another second, I'm on top of him, collapsing on his body and wrenching the rifle from his hands as it fires into the ceiling.

White plaster and debris coat my body but I blink and lose him. The static charge in the air and the fifteen successive karate chops to my body let me know I've underestimated my opponent. He's been practicing for the short time he's had his powers.

His powers… It hits me again for what must be the fiftieth time in two days… He gets his powers from the same source I always have. The Speed Force. It fuels me, it fuels him, and right now it's fueling him as he beats on me. It means that if this guy could be tapped into the Speed Force, then anybody could. I'm not special. I wasn't chosen to be the Flash. Neither was Barry Allen.

It's at that moment that I try to sprint off, just to gain some distance between me and the hood. I take one step, and in that one step, that one single, solitary, non-Speed Force amplified step, that I feel the total absence of my powers. It's a feeling I've gotten too used to, the blank feeling that comes from not having the energy of the Speed Force coursing threw my muscles when I relax my mind and look for it. My powers have been fluctuating for the last few weeks, but I thought that was solved. I thought Dr. Fate cured me.* What's going on?

*(The Flash #8- Jonah)

His fist smacks the back of my head. The world flashes bright red at the corners but I close my eyes and shake it away. I twist around and the energy at my feet, as well as the currents of wind caused by my rapid turn, tell me my powers have snapped back. I grab my target by the elbow and hold him in place for a right cross to his face that echoes across the room with a sick, wet smack. The man doesn't even groan as I drop his body to the ground.

The woman in the suit brushes tears and make up out of her face as she runs up to me. "Oh my god… Thank you! Thank you so much! I-"

"You'd better go talk to the police to get yourself checked out, ma'am," I say dismissively. More so than I meant to. She nods, still in a daze, and heads for the door, eyes scanning the bodies scattered on the ground of her workplace.

The second she leaves, a loud "whoosh" sounds in the damaged jewelry store, followed by what sounds like a dozen more. I hear one man's punctuated clapping and by the time I turn, a man in a black business suit with a red tie stands smirking in the middle of a crowd of men and women in different forms of dress.

"We got your message, Flash," the leaders states simply. "Honestly, we didn't expect you to give up so easily."

"Hey, when I give up, I'll tell you. I'm just trying a new method of superhero-ing. Process of elimination. It's called beat up every single one of the henchmen until only the real bad guy is left. Which would be Professor Zoom, right? Any clue who he really is?"

I get nothing. These aren't the talkative type of bad guys.

"No. Okay," I run forward, then feint left, getting in a solid punch to a short black-haired man. The throng starts to react, moving in towards me, but I use the time given to me to reach out and kick a black guy in a Zoom t-shirt in the stomach, then the chin, sending him backwards onto a shattered display case. The wind cracks as I pull back for another punch, but then the crowd blurs. They all shift to accelerated speed in a singular, concentrated movement. It's like nothing I've ever seen before. A real human tornado forms around me, knocking my feet from the ground and throwing my body up into the ceiling. I crash against the tile then land with a thud as the wind dissipates.

Before I can even hoist myself onto my knees, a tall blonde woman throws a kick into my gut, then steps sharply on my spine. I shift and roll, but only into another foot, which connects with my face. They converge as one, a lightning storm of crushing fists, each one descending on me like a hammer. The view I have of the riot starts to shift and gel into one big blur. It's the approach of unconsciousness, something I'm familiar with. I almost smile as the world goes dark around me, but I'm smart enough to hold it back.

They can't know I'm the decoy…

"Thanks for taking the time to meet with me, Officer Taney," said Maya Ortega as a uniformed policeman escorted her into Keystone City Police HQ. She fluffed her long black hair, trying to disguise her missed morning shower, and adjusted her skirt. She walked briskly behind her guide as they marched through the halls. Only when the clack of their shoes resounded through the large hall did she stop to really look at it.

Alan Taney, a stout man with a big nose and dense brown hair, stopped and waited as she looked around the room, confused. The police station was completely empty. No sound echoed off the high, grand walls, and every desk and stack of paperwork was left unattended. The room itself was huge, just a large hall seperated by rows and columns of desks and file cabinets. It looked like a very busy place, but on that Friday evening, only two guests were present.

"Where is everyone?," she asked.

The cop's hand gestured around the room as he resumed his pace. "Gone. Every cop on the force is out working the street. I haven't slept in two days," he answered. And he looked it. Gray bags under his eyes, hunched shoulders. His feet dragged slightly as he walked down the maze of workspaces.

"You haven't? Then why are you here with me?"

Taney walked over to a cup of coffee sitting on a desk. He sipped it, grimaced once, then sucked down the rest. "Ugh... cold," he mumbled. "Chief thought one of us should be spared to give the press a statement. We really haven't had the time."

"Is it that bad, then? The Zoom Epidemic?"

"Look around. The drug came out of nowhere and wound up in the hands of half the people in the city, and now everybody's using it. Every crime in the past week, from muggings, to breaking and entering, to shoot-outs has been Zoom-related."

"But how could something creep up so fast? I mean, drugs like heroine or ecstacy took years to seep into common use. A drug can't completely overrun a city in a few days."

Taney ran a hand through his matted brown hair. His eyes wandered, like he would fall asleep any second. "That's what we thought. But apparently, you can plan an epidemic. Whoever's behind this spent a long time producing without selling. They stocked up a surplus, followed connections to hook up every jerk that even smells like a drug-dealer, and they loaded down each pusher with a huge supply of stuff. It travelled fast because it was a hot item. It started small, with some kids experimenting, while the bigger criminals waited for a while to juice up then go on a crime spree with their newfound super-speed. And, of course, they all decided to hit the town at the same time. So the force is absolutely stretched to its limits."

Maya Ortega clicked her pen as she stopped taking notes. Beautiful white teeth nibbled at her lip. Worry was on her face. "But why hasn't the chaos spread? So far it's looked like just a Keystone problem.

"Because someone intended it that way. The producers only sold to the pushers with local business. They wanted the effects to stay contained in the city. At least for a time. Zoom use has started to show up a little bit in nearby counties. But we're already pulling in aid from different, neighboring police precincts. But if this thing starts to spread out, I don't know what we'll do."

Paper slammed the wooden railing as Maya slammed down her pad and paper in exhaustion. Silence pervaded between the two. Then she looked up sheepishly at Officer Taney. "...Sorry. I'm sorry. I haven't slept either. But really, I don't see what good having me here is."

"Since the Zoom broke out into the streets, we've been so busy, there's been a virtual lock-down of information. That's why use is still so high. Nobody's sure of the side-effects. But I need you to go back to your station and make sure the city knows that Zoom is 100% lethal. The drug accelerates the system, creating super-speed for an indefinite time, but also producing heightened aggression, and in some cases mania. But in all cases, it's also accelerated the beat of the heart to the point where it explodes in your chest. For every use we've witnessed, there hasn't been a single survivor. Not one."

"There's no treatment?," Maya asked.

"Scientists can't analyze it."

"Oh my God," she whispered to herself. Thoughts of her children at school fought for her attention.

"Still... we think we can tackle this. At least we have the Flash on our side, right?"

Her big brown eyes looked up at him. "What? You haven't heard?"

Taney looked back. A confidence in his face faltered. Just for a moment. "What?"

"The Flash was taken captive this morning."

"Did you hit him?," a strong, older voice commanded indignantly.

"No."

"Bart…"

"Okay, fine, I hit him. But just a little bit. And it's not like you were doing any good, hanging back looking nervous. You totally would have blown our cover!"

The beating drum of footsteps echoed for miles, but faded away too quickly to be comprehended or examined by the public. They heard it as only an incomprehensible clap of thunder on a completely sunny day. But to those inside the moving wind storm it was a low, ominous war cadence. An assemblage of men and women, affiliates of the crime organization dubbed "The Speed Force," ran in unison, their eyes focused dead ahead and their pace brisk. The unconscious body of The Flash sagged in his peculiar metal gauntlets as his body was supported by four of the Speed Force members.

They were a diverse crowd. The adult men and women hailed from various sects of crime. They were shysters and hustlers and scam-artists who had been given a chance to profit in the most lucrative con they had ever seen. The younger members were a group of more ambitious lowlife. The cream of the crop as far as gang activity and petty larceny, they dreamt of climbing the ranks in the world of real crime.

And today they were joined by two others. Running alongside them strode a modestly disguised Jay Garrick and an… interestingly disguised Bart Allen. The golden age Flash and Impulse respectively. One ran steadily, eyes flashing subtly over his bound protégé' behind dark glasses. He ran in blue jeans, a black shirt, and brown sports jacket. An age appropriate disguise. The frown on Impulse's face, however, grew more with each stride. The young speedsters hands reached to the back of his pants… his tight fitting Capri pants, and tried to calmly adjust himself. The relief is only momentary, though, as he begins to struggle with his tight, pink Avril Lavigne shirt.

"Stop," Jay whispered as sharply and discreetly as possible. "You're going to draw attention to yourself."

"Leave me alone! You're the one whose "disguise" is the same old stuff you wear everyday. How come I had to dress up like a girl?"

Jay rolled his eyes and stifled a chuckle. "I told you a million times. They probably know you're in the area and they'll be looking for young man of your age, your height, and with your distinguishing characteristics."

"What distinguishing characteristics!?," Bart hissed, biting to hold back the fury.

"What do you think? Your hair. Maybe if you cut it once in a while… but as it is, you fit in perfectly right now as a young, teenage girl. It's undercover work and it comes up a lot in this business. Now will you be quiet and try to be mature about this?"

Bart paused, a retort ready to go, but lowered his head bitterly and grumbled to himself as he ran.

"I do like the hair clips, though," Jay shot. Bart turned his head and fumed but his partner had already fallen back into the group and was assumed by another group of runners.

Bart shook his head and let the slight pass for the time being. He turned a steel gaze to the horizon and marched in step with the crowd around him. Memories of Max's beaten face on the television were all he could think of as he pushed his body to keep pace. The plan worked it's way through his head, again and again. They had wanted to trade Wally for Max. Wally couldn't find their base. Wally would let himself be taken in by the Speed Force, while he and Jay kept a close watch, slipping in with the captors when the opportunity presented itself. They would sneak into the Force's base, Jay would find out where the Zoom drug was being manufactured, and he would find Max and save him. Neat and simple.

A tall girl with black hair and a tattoo on her face looked over at him curiously. "Nice shoes," she smiled.

Impulse sighed.

Inside a dull, gray cell laid the unconscious body of the Flash.

An entire floor above that cell, a man in a polished, black Armani suit watched his captive sleep through a hidden camera. He stood leisurely, toying with his expensive gold watch as his eyes rested on the screen. The picture lulled him into a feeling of due satisfaction. He had captured one of the world's greatest superheroes.

He ran his hand over his slicked back, black hair. "Poor man," came his voice, finally. "Reduced to a drooling heap on the floor by my sedative chemicals and anti-vibrational walls. It almost makes you feel bad for him, doesn't it, Mr. Zoom?"

The man's eyes made not a single movement as he spoke to the dark, shadow-

drenched room. The costumed form of the new Professor Zoom stepped out into the only source of light, a dim lamp from above. That lamp's glow highlighted the dull gold of his costume, almost identical to the Flash's. Zoom smiled a thin, wicked smile as he cracked his knuckles beneath blood red gloves. "I thought it was Professor Zoom?"

The secret man still made no move. "Only for the sake of tradition. But between myself and yourself, it doesn't make a lot of sense does it? I mean, you're not really a professor. In fact, I find you rather dull."

The smile on Zoom's face plummeted into a surly frown. "Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't be so offended. It's not like you don't know it as well. How much post-high school education does it take to be a super-hero poser, anyway?"

The criminal in the costume did nothing but growl. The air grew warmer as he reached out a super-powered fist... only to have it blocked in mid-air. When his eyes moved again, his boss was gripping his crimson-colored glove and squeezing... hard.

"AIGH!," he shouted, crumbling to his knees with his hand still in the air.

"Don't touch me," the figure in the suit snarled. "I don't want you forgetting your place in this "boss/lackey relationship."

He reached down and grabbed Zoom by the back of the neck with one hand, peeling back his mask with the other. Grabbing the super villain's hair, he shoved his face in front of the television monitor. Zoom's reflection, a hurt, defeated face looked back at him. And that hurt defeated face was also exactly the same as that of one Wally West, The Flash. "Look at yourself! Look at yourself and remember, Wally Allen, that I took you from where you were stuck and gave you a new life. When your father died saving the world, you tried to be the Flashaman, but you failed. You could never compare to him, much less surpass him, which is all you ever wanted. You called yourself a hero, but all you wanted from day one was the recognition and the glory. And you know, deep down, that even if you went home and put on the red costume again, you couldn't do it. So I found you, trained you, gave you a new name and a new world to play with. Here, as Professor Zoom, your name will be feared and revered. But only because of me."

He shoved Zoom's face down and away from him disgustedly. "Now don't forget it. Get back to work."

Walter looked down at the ground, humbled. Not even a bitter gaze passed between the two men as he stood and walked out the door.

The secret man returned his eyes to the screen. "Just sleep, Flash. Let my scientists poke at you long enough and then you, even you, will be useless to my plans. Unable to hinder them and unable to further them as well. Which makes you especially disposable. You are not long for this world or any other."

Jay Garrick had been fighting crime as the Flash since the nineteen-forties. That kind of career yielded decades of experience. Though he'd say his forte is straight "superhero-ing," he was adept at investigative procedures, military combat, and hand-to-hand conflict, among a wealth of other things. He was also good at undercover work. Simply put, the original Flash was a pro. And as he turned a corner in a drab office building, his eyes taking in every detail behind sunglasses and a stony demeanor, that fact seemed obvious.

The Speed Force base of operations turned out to be a tall, white building on the outskirts of town, passing itself off, pretty convincingly, as a dental hygienist's office. The first floor even carried all the necessary equipment in all the right places. But if Wally hadn't figured them out, Jay reasoned, then those in charge must have been thorough. No trail left behind whatsoever. He tugged at the lapels of his sport coat passively as he walked the halls, looking for some kind of information center.

He walked down a long, narrow hallway, scanning for video cameras when he came upon the object of his search. Just around the corner was an open door leading to a large, sterile room. Inside, one man sat eating a subway sandwich while he clacked away, bored, at a large computer with multiple screens and interconnecting wires. The room was devoid of any light or plant life and made up for it only with metal bookshelves and file cabinets stacked sloppily with folders and documents. Jay figured it was as likely a place to check as any.

...But how, he pondered?

He retreated back a few steps, surveying the adjacent hall for people, and again, a saving grace presented itself. A tall man in a business suit and thick glasses walked towards Jay absent-mindedly, looking through a binder as he sipped his soda. Jay leaned against the wall, completely casual, and waited as the man drew closer with each step.

Step. Sip... Step. Sip... Step. Sip...

The man gave Jay no notice as he meandered down the hall, until he was right in front of Jay Garrick. He didn't even look up when Jay threw out his fist like a bolt of lightning and cracked the oblivious man once in the stomach and once in the back of the head. The man fell, but the Flash snatched the glasses off his face before he even hit the floor. Then Jay actually whistled as he walked on down the hall.

He went back to the door before the computer room, put the thick glasses on his face, and mussed up his hair into a dorky cowlick. He walked through the door.

"Hey there, chief!," he called out obnoxiously, forcing his voice into a tight, nasal tone.

The bewildered man dropped his sandwich and got up from his chair. "Hey, who are you?"

"Name's Andrew. Andy to my friends," Jay smiled as he held out his hand.

The big man only looked at the hand, then back up at the curious figure in the glasses before him. "And what do you think you're doing here, Andrew?"

Jay let out a low whistle. "Well, your boss called me in. Sounds like you guys have quite a job for me here." Jay pointed to the computer. "There's been some problems with the network, so I've got to go in and reboot the whole system."

He pushed the glasses up further on his face. "If what I here is right, I might even have to shut down the network, then try to reroute all the data streams through the main processor, transfer all the data into separate auxiliary drives... not to mention re-coding all the old firewalls and saturating the network connections... and you know what a pain that can be, right buddy?," Jay chuckled, then snorted, as he nudged the man gently in the stomach with his elbow.

The big man just looked unhappy, and skeptical. "I don't think so-"

"Hey, you're the tech. guy here, right, son?"

The man just nodded, the interruption throwing him off.

"Mind answering a few questions for me?," Jay asked as he pushed the glasses upwards, yet again. "Now, have you had any trouble getting onto the internet lately? Are e-mails between computers here, lagging a bit? What about difficulty sending files?"

Now the man looked up a little bit, thoughtfully. "Actually, now that you mention it..."

Jay let out a long, slow "mmmm-hmmm..."

"I tell you, why you kids don't switch to Intel 600 is a mystery to me. Well, sounds like there might be a virus." He moved behind the desk and started clicking away obliviously with the mouse. He motioned the big man back with him. "Just to be safe, we should probably save all of the important stuff to back-ups first. Why don't you pull up the schematics on the processing plant?"

The man backed away from the computer slightly at the mention of the processing plant. "I can't do that."

With this, Jay looked up curiously at the man. He leaned up from the computer as well, rubbing his forehead and taking a long time to speak. "Now, wait a minute, son. You're telling me you don't want to save a back-up of the plant schematics?"

The man held his gaze resolutely. "Yeah."

"So, you're telling me that if I go into this computer, and in trying to clean out this virus, I wipe out large, random chunks of this business's files, your boss isn't going to want the schematics on a back-up? Son, the entire system could crash. Do you want to lose everything?"

The man wavered a bit. He studied Jay for a long time, glancing back and forth between the man in glasses and the computer. "You're right. I'll pull it up for you."

Jay smiled brightly as the man started typing at the large computer terminal. "Yeah, why don't you? Then go take a lunch-break, son. I've got work to do."

Jude Dobson ran drown a crowded street at one-hundred and fifty miles per hour. He had covered the entire city running this way, and sweat caked his entire body. He beat his legs fully and freely, caring little for the form used by sprinters or marathoners. He just flew down the street, twisting and turning like a wild man as wind rushed through his dreadlocks. His eyes were wide open and bloodshot and a huge, mean smile stretched across his lips.

People jumped away or ducked when they saw him coming. He moved across the pavement like a great tidal wave. A force of stupid, recklessness nature. Those who didn't see him coming were the unfortunate ones. A body, moving as fast as a rock in a hurricane, brushed passed knocking them through the air and down onto the street.

But Jude did not care at all. Just half an hour ago he had been sitting in his house, completely alone, staring at the vial with the red lightning bolt against the black circle. Jude had been a simple dealer, buying pot from the big-city drug lords and pushing it in the pool halls and the movie theaters. Always dealing, never sampling. Like a good business man. Always saving his cash, keeping his head low, and minding his own business. He owned a nice house outside of town. He had a big-screen TV that he could watch all by himself. All because he only sold, and never sampled. Getting too involved meant getting hooked, somewhere down the line, and he knew he'd lose the big TV and big house he'd worked for and wind up just like the losers on the street he manipulated.

But when "Party-Man" his supplier gave him those boxes, full of tiny glass vials... One sat on his bed, just looking at him. When the opportunity to run as fast as the Flash sit right in front of you... you get curious.

Now blood rushed through his veins, veins which pulsed and writhed over his thin, black arms. He knocked a pedestrian, a woman walking with her two sons, down flat on the street and turned a corner, hollering with joy. Complete, free joy.

He took off his white t-shirt and whipped it over his head as he ran. He streamed down fifth avenue, taking a turn into a Chinese restaurant he'd never been to before. Plates and cups and tables crashed around him in a furious storm as he ran straight through, stopping for nothing, before bursting through the kitchen and out the back door, splintering it into shards. He jumped onto the iron railing of a staircase and pushed off, flying through the air for a minute, before pushing off and running on down the street.

People screamed as he passed. His arms swung and his legs dashed. He punched a man as he ran, grabbing the wallet from his pocket with a turn and a laugh. The man clutched his jaw and his empty pocket, looking around frantically to find the breeze that had just attacked him. All he saw was Jude Dobson in the middle of the street, counting his money and laughing. The dealer smiled wide and wiped the sweat from his eyes... just in time to block his own view of the fire truck hurtling his way.

People gasped as a loud "smack" sounded off throughout the intersection.

Jude Dobson wasn't moving.

Max Mercury was propped up in the corner of his cell. His face had been cleaned and treated, the gray and purple bruises still swelled along his face. His eyes wandered around the cramped gray room without intent. He'd been drugged and mostly inactive for the past two days. At first he fought, but they pumped his body full of more toxins. He knew measures to counteract them, but that morning he could barely lift his head and now the state of his body was tenuous at best.

Impulse, still dressed like a pop-obsessed schoolgirl banged his fist against the glass at the sight of his mentor. He took an hour to walk around, becoming familiar with his new surroundings, while searching for any clue as to where Max was being held. It took a long time wandering the dark basement of the complex before he found the rows upon rows of empty cells. It appeared the Speed Force was fully prepared for their small-scale war.

In the last cell was Max Mercury.

He waved. No response. Max's eyes just stared vacantly at the floor. His head only attempted to rock upwards and focus when he heard a loud explosion. Max fought with his uncooperative body to look at the source of the noise, then he smiled when he saw his protégé. Impulse stood in the middle of the cell, the door behind him shattered as he ran through it shocked it with an explosion. A look of concern wracked his face as he ran to his mentor's side.

"Max! Max, are you okay?," he shouted, waving his hand franticly in front of Max's face.

Max, for his part, tried weakly to wave the boy's concerns away, but his hand just flopped around loosely. "Im...I'm...I'm okay, brt...," he slurred. "You gotta... gtta luk out.."

"What? What'd you say, Max?"

"He said "look out," kid," a haughty female voice called from behind him. Impulse whipped around to find a lone girl standing in the hole he'd created. She was of medium height, but looked strong and athletic. She had fierce brown eyes and dark brown skin, her only obvious traits under a black full-body uniform. It almost matched the Flash's, with a full black mask, gold boots and gauntlets, and a complex gold utility belt, offset by a subtle, yet sharp and deadly crimson thunderbolt insignia on her breast. A matching red half-cape draped her shoulders. Her arms were bare from the shoulder down. Impulse guessed that of the two of them, she was the elder, but not by much.

"I like your entrance," she mocked. "Discreet."

Impulse drew up his body into a fighting position, making sure to block her access to Max. "Who are you?!," he shouted, angrily.

She paced the room, daring him to attack, but always maintaining a set distance. "I'm Kid Zoom. I'm the one in charge of making sure your prune-juice sucking friend stays put... Um, cute capris, by the way."

"What?," Bart raised an eyebrow, then looked down at his irregular attire. "Oh! Stupid disguise!" He whipped around in a mini-tornado, not wanting his enemy to see him change. The awkwardness of the situation would betray the superhero-supervillain relationship too much. The lower half of his Impulse costume had been on all along, underneath the civilian guise, he had just to remove the girl-jeans and pull up the shirt and mask and he was Impulse again. The girl laughed as two hairclips fell to the floor, but Impulse just growled. All business.

"I'm taking my partner and we're leaving. I don't know how to put it more simply. Don't get in the way."

"I already am in the way, punk. Now it's up to you to do something about it." The air cracked behind her like a whip as she raced forward, striking Impulse in the jaw. The red-and-white garbed speedster clashed against the metal wall. In an instant, Kid Zoom was on him again, coupling super speed with a control and grace that resulted in a perfect flying roundhouse to the head and a kick to the stomach before she even touched the floor. Impulse was shoved back against the wall painfully. He heaved and gasped as the oxygen left his body and his eyes teared up. Another sharp crack reverberated through the cells as she slapped him in the face, sending him to the floor, followed by a karate chop to the neck that made the air whistle and burn around it. Impulse sagged to the floor.

Then... he smiled. He knew what came next. "Dirty supervillainess favorite trick #1." While he was on all fours, she launched a vicious kick up into his ribs, but the boy speedster turned on a dime and pushed her leg upwards. She lost balance and fell awkwardly on her rear. Her attempts to rise were halted by a fist to the back of the head that sent the girl colliding with the ground.

Impulse ran over to his mentor, who was, at the moment, struggling to find his feet. "Max! Can you run? I need to get you, me, and the psycho-chick outside so I have some space to move."

"N-no!," Max stopped him, leaning up against the boy. "I mean, yes, I'm okay to run, but I have a different plan. Can you keep her contained in this room?"

"Well, yeah, but-," Impulse stopped mid-sentence as a fist, crackling with raw speed-energy lanced out and struck him in the back of the head, knocking him forward.

"Then do it!," Max shouted to his young partner as he raced off out the door.

Kid Zoom laughed as she lifted up Bart by his long hair.

"You shouldn't even be here. All we wanted was the Flash. But now that we've got the real deal tucked away upstairs, your old friend took off, and I get to beat you to a messy pulp as a gift for Professor Zoom."

Bart gritted his teeth... and struck out behind him with a donkey-kick to the girl's stomach. Her petite form crumpled and wretched and she gasped for breath unceremoniously as Impulse swung his body and, with a loud "whish," kicked her across the face. Both combatants wheezed and panted as they found their way to full standing positions.

"Your half-cape... makes you look like... a dork...," Impulse panted. "And your super-villain name is lamer than... Aqualad."

"This from the kid with... the huge goggles?," she retorted, cradling her stomach. "You look like a Justice League version of... Erkel."

The two young warriors sized each other up, assuming fighting stances. Their eyes locked, each pressing for a weakness. Neither gaze wandered until Bart heard a loud creaking from up above him. He glanced back at Kid Zoom to see if she caught the sound, but the girl was already racing towards him. He waited, anticipating just the right moment... then grabbed her by the shoulders and rocked back. The momentum of two teenagers flying at Mach 2 combined, and Kid Zoom hit the opposite wall with a large crack. The creaking above the two continued, and just as the young villain raised herself up again, ready for more... the entire ceiling collapsed.

She had only to the time to look up obliviously as Impulse dodged and rolled for the nearby door. Layers of random metal and tile converged upon her and the room filled with a cloud of white dust. By the time Impulse had returned through the door and blew the fog away, Max Mercury had already leapt down and was pulling the bruised, unconscious body of Kid Zoom out of the wreckage. He checked her pulse and smiled grimly. She would live.

Bart Allen ran his hand through his hair, sifting away the cobwebs. "What'd you do?"

"What do you think?," Max cracked a smiled. "I didn't spend the entire time in here tripping out. I analyzed my cell. If you had looked while it was still intact, you could have seen that the ceiling and it's supports and bolts were arranged in a way so that I could tell the ceiling in this room wasn't part of a larger framework. I guess the walls were built out of something that negated my speed powers so I couldn't break out, but they couldn't build the entire building out of it, or the outside of the door apparently, which explains how you got in."

"Huh," was all the stunned boy could say.

"Thanks for saving me."

"No problem. Jay helped too."

"Ah," Max commented. "What's the plan then?"

Bart led Max out the destroyed doorway. "Find the Flash."

Speed Reading

Ah, I love this title! Two issues in and I already threw in plot elements I hadn't even planned in the last issue. I mean, come on, Kid Zoom? Who saw that coming? Not me!

Anyway, writing the Flash is amazingly fun and I hope you're enjoying it as much as I have so far. Write in and let me know, either way. I'd love to get some feedback on how my first time writing an established, A-List superhero is going. We have one issue left to go in the four part "Chasing Shadows" story arc and just wait for the surprise I've got planned for next issue! After that, I've got some fresh ideas that I'm having a lot of toying with and it's all classic Flash. So read on and enjoy…

Peace,

Jonah Rite