Post by Al David on Feb 4, 2018 0:33:33 GMT
The Flash
#18: Rise of the Rogues Part 6
“Legacy”
12 Years Ago
James Jesse took a drag of his cigarette, cupped his lips into a smooth O, then blew out a ring of smoke. He steadied himself atop the oak branch as the ring widened, drifting with the wind. In the blink of an eye, James leaped off the tree and through the ring of smoke like an acrobat, then tumbled onto his feet in a spectacular show of dexterity.
The other boys erupted with applause. James shrugged it off, equal parts proud and bored. This was the fifth time he’d shown them the maneuver in less than an hour, largely due to his six-year-old cousin’s obsession with his talent. He had to keep the boy pleased. If Axel went to his parents—James’s legal guardians—and told them what they spent the rest of their time doing, they would ship him right back to juvie. He’d celebrated his fifteenth birthday in there, and wasn’t planning on spending another behind bars.
“Hell of a trick,” Harley Wilson admitted. The stocky redheaded twelve-year-old was one of James’s posse, the group of three delinquent middle schoolers he had wooed with his criminal history.
“Loved it,” Danny West agreed.
“Do it again!” Axel Walker cheered. The six-year-old had gotten the Jesse’s coloring from his mother; he was prairie-blond and pale, just like James.
“Fuck that,” James said, eliciting a mild gasp from his cousin. “I got a better idea. Let’s play smear the queer.”
“What’s a queer…?” Axel wondered.
“Someone like him.” James pointed at Danny, whose mouth fell open with shock. “Run, queer.”
Danny took off without protest. James smirked. The other boys followed his word like gospel. Danny knew that, given his reaction.
The other boys—Harley, Jacob, and even Axel—chased him further into the woods behind the Walker mansion. James counted to ten, then ran after them. He was the oldest, the most athletic, and the smartest. If he really wanted to impress the others, he had to outthink Danny. Luckily he had a plan. He always did.
Catching up to Axel, James said, “Just watch this.”
James passed the other chasers, then arced around Danny’s left, forcing him toward a creek. Just as planned.
“REDRUM! REDRUM! REDRUM!” James cried with violent delight.
Whether Danny understood the joke or not, he got the threat inherent in it. As James closed in on him, he forced Danny further to the right. Soon enough, they were racing down the edge of the creek back toward the mansion, Danny just a few paces ahead of James. Suddenly, the younger boy flew through the air, dragged up a tree by a snare that had caught his right foot.
James had placed the rabbit trap days ago. He hadn’t intended to use it this way, but hell, if it wasn’t more fun…
James slugged the hanging boy in the gut, then screamed, “Get him! Beat the queer like a piñata!”
Within moments, the other boys had caught up to them. Harley and Jacob didn’t hesitate to hit Danny. That left only Axel. The little boy crept up beside his cousin, eyes wide.
“Please don’t…” Danny begged, blood trickling down his face from his busted lower lip.
“Come on, Axel. It’s a dog-eat-dog world,” James said. “You want to stay on top, you can’t be afraid to beat your enemies while they’re down.” He chuckled, “Or up, in this case.”
Axel looked up into Danny’s deep, brown eyes, which were filled with terror. He clenched his hands into fists, but didn’t swing. James opened his mouth to urge him onward, only for Axel to lash out in the blink of an eye and strike Danny in the nose. Before James could call the game, Axel hit Danny again. And again. And again. Laughing.
The other boys looked on in shock.
“James,” Danny garbled.
The sound of his name drew James out of his shell shocked state. He dragged Axel kicking and screaming away from Danny, and motioned the other boys to cut him down. As they obeyed, he forced Axel to face him.
James did his best to keep calm. Remember Axel’s parents. Remember juvie. “What the hell was that?”
His cousin’s lips curled up into a sick grin. “A hell of a trick.”
…
Now
James stared at his reflection in the creek. God, how long had it been since he’d last visited? A decade? That sounded about right. He’d run away and gotten involved with the Rogues at, what, eighteen? It had been a decade since he’d looked at this creek. Since he’d spoken to his aunt and uncle.
James sighed. The goddamn memories. Most bad. Some really bad. All of them with Axel.
Not his problem, he told himself. That wasn’t why he was here. He didn’t need to apologize for the boy.
Unable to fool himself, James trudged toward the Walker mansion with his heart in his throat.
…
Unable to calm himself, the Flash entered the middle school with his heart in his throat. When he’d seen the alert, he had thought it was a cruel joke. An impossible nightmare. But no, as he knew all too well, nothing was impossible.
Axel Walker was holding up a classroom. Wally West’s classroom.
Yet, contrary to all he’d heard, when the Flash sped into the classroom he found it empty, save for one person. Axel Walker stood in mid-air, smoking a cigarette, his anti-gravity boots humming beneath him. Upon the Flash’s arrival, he blew a ring of smoke and tried to jump through it. The Scarlet Speedster didn’t allow him to finish the maneuver. He caught him by the collar of his blue-and-yellow striped jacket and slammed him onto the teacher’s desk.
Looking into Axel’s blank, domino-masked eyes, the Flash spat, “Where are the children?”
“God, I thought Sammy was kidding when he said you’d gone all serious. Lookit you, The Growliest Man Alive!” Axel quipped.
“You’re with Scudder,” the Flash realized. “Why—”
“I thought you were anti-foreplay,” Axel retorted.
The Flash grunted in frustration then raised one fist. Before he could say or do anything else, the Rogue whistled and waved one finger back and forth to shush him.
“Get my heart really going and the kids go ka-fucking-boom,” he said, indicating a high tech watch on his wrist. “Destroy this bad boy and you get the same.”
The Flash frowned, but let him go. Axel popped his collar, grinning victoriously.
“What do you want?” the Flash asked.
“To play a game,” Axel said. “The kids are scattered throughout the school with these fancy doodads on. Only one of them is an actual bomb. The rest are decoys, but they all think they’ve got a live one strapped to their wrists, set to blow if they stop running. Cute, right?”
The Flash grimaced. Last time he’d dealt with Axel, the thug had shown a knack for creative engineering, but this was next level. Either Scudder had hired a genius, or Axel had stepped up his game big time. Regardless, he had to play along for the kids’ safety. For Wally’s safety.
“What are you waiting for?” Axel mused. “Tag, you’re it.”
The Flash sped off, aware of the fact that by the time he returned Axel would likely be gone. There was nothing he could do. Unless…No, he couldn’t call Chester. He’d ended their team for a reason. From now on, the Flash was a solo operation.
…
James tried to knock once, twice, and finally on the third time forced himself to do it. Almost half a minute passed and he considered knocking again. However, before he could, a silky, unfamiliar voice called from inside, “Coming!”
When the door opened, two facts struck James. First, as generically rich as she looked, he didn’t know this woman. Second, he sure as hell didn’t know the baby in her arms.
“Hi,” she greeted.
“Hi, I, uh…” James tightened his jean jacket around him. “Are the—I was looking for the Walkers.”
“Oh, they moved out about a year ago. Didn’t say where to, just…” The woman rocked her baby after it garbled a cry. “I’m sorry, are you by chance Axel?”
“Axel? Yeah, I’m—yeah. Axel Walker. That’s me,” James said. What was he on about?
“My name’s Holly. Nice to meet you.” She extended her free hand.
Taking it, he replied, “Likewise.”
“Your parents were a positively lovely couple. Made buying this house a breeze. They talk a lot, but I’m sure you know that. Nothing against them. Talkers don’t bother me,” the woman rambled. “They actually left something for you. Let me just—here, come on inside; I’ll be right back.”
James stepped inside the mansion and shut the door after himself as Holly rushed up the spiral staircase to the second floor. He took in his surroundings. They’d renovated the house, made it more…what’s the word? Modern? Art deco? James frowned. With a new layer of piss-yellow paint it looked positively…unique.
As his eyes trailed across the exquisitely disgusting wallpaper, James noticed a news alert from a television down the hall. ‘MASKED CRIMINAL HOLDS JUNIOR HIGH HOSTAGE.’ Axel’s sophomore yearbook picture stared back at him from the screen with cruel indifference.
“…Axel Walker, who spent his childhood in and out of juvenile…”
“Mr. Walker?”
James blinked back to reality, and faced Holly with a feigned smile. “Yeah, sorry, just call me…” He grimaced. “Mr. Walker’s fine.”
Holly forced an awkward laugh, then extended a small yellow package to him. James briefly lost himself in the sharpied ‘Axel’ on its front, before he took it from her.
“Can I offer you a coffee? Or a beer?” she asked.
“No, I—I should get going. Got the night shift,” James lied, opening the door.
“Oh. Sure,” Holly said, “What is it you do?”
James froze in the doorway. He glanced down at the package in his hands, then back up at Holly.
As if reading a will, his lips fell into a deep frown and he muttered, “I teach.”
…
Just as Axel had said, almost two dozen kids were scrambling around different classrooms, sweating, exhausted, afraid to stop moving for fear of the potential bomb strapped to their wrists. He found Wally with only one other child, running around the gymnasium. Barry couldn’t play favorites. He had to help the larger groups first.
After speeding to a classroom of five children, he slowed down, stopping so they could see him. Three of the kids relaxed, but continued to move. The other two screamed.
“Shhh. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m going to help you,” the Flash assured them, “In just a moment, it’s going to seem like I disappeared. I promise that won’t be the case. I will be right here moving at superspeed, so I can think at superspeed, so I can save you all. Do you understand?”
The kids nodded one after other, and some gave voice to their affirmations. The Flash took a deep breath, counted to three, then began to speed around the room, examining each watch with tender care and an acute eye.
He wasn’t bomb squad. He didn’t know how to disarm an explosive. He also didn’t know if any of these watches were actually decoys. To vibrate them off the kids would be too risky. He was at a loss for what to do. Maybe he could call Chester. Maybe just this once…
The Flash cursed his idiocy. He didn’t need Chester. That wasn’t a matter of pride, but fact. The only person whose life he would endanger by vibrating off the watches was his own. He could speed them to an open area before they could explode. Odds were even he could escape the aftermath. After all, he wasn’t called the Fastest Man Alive for nothing.
The Flash acted almost on pure instinct, moving as quickly as he ever had before. He removed each watch, vibrated out of the building, and dropped the potential bombs off at the track. After giving them a moment to explode, he discovered they were all decoys. Axel hadn’t lied about that.
The Flash felt his heart thunder with confidence. Axel was still the same old reckless, cruel, dumbass kid.
He saved most of the remaining kids without conflict. By the time he returned to the gymnasium to save the last two children, he hadn’t discovered a single live bomb. That left only two remaining options. He swallowed a knot in his throat, then entered the gym. There, sitting atop the bleachers, was Axel Walker.
He hadn’t escaped. Why?
The Flash could deal with the Rogue later. Now, he had to save the last two kids. He removed the first’s watch without trouble. That just left Wally. The preteen ran like a natural, his limbs contorted with athletic grace. He had barely broken a sweat, yet his face was a mask of fear. The watch on his wrist had a lightning bolt etched into the side. How had he missed that before? Wally had to be—
The unexpected struck the Flash like lightning. The instant he began to vibrate Wally’s watch, it started to glow. He removed it as fast as he could, only for its face to activate…
…and a grappling hook to shoot out from beneath it.
In his shock, the Flash slowed enough that the watch succeeded in tugging him up to the ceiling. Before he could let go, a crimson energy field cocooned his body. He tried to vibrate through the field, only for it to shock him back. He couldn’t escape.
As the watch locked itself around his wrist, the Flash glared at Axel, who began to clap.
“Bravo, Fastest Man Alive. You got the instincts of a geek,” Axel taunted. “I mean, I built that thing to be fast, but damn, if you hadn’t fucked up I’d be toast.”
Wally looked first at Axel, then at the Flash, who shook his head. ‘Don’t do it.’
“You lied. There was never a bomb,” the Flash grumbled. He had to buy time until he could figure a way out of this mess.
“‘Course not. I don’t kill kids. To my disdain, I don’t even get to kill you…yet,” Axel said. His lips curled into a devilish smirk. “Sammy wants you alive.”
Axel passed Wally, who tensed. The Flash prayed he wouldn’t act reckless.
The Rogue continued, “He’s hella obsessed with you now, ever since you made him look like the weakest mobster since Fredo Corleone. Did a ton of research. Your estimated top speeds…”
Wally creeped toward the Rogue. The Flash resisted the urge to so much as glance at the boy. He couldn’t let Axel know…
“...the potential source of your powers...”
Wally broke out into a sprint, then dived for Axel’s legs in an attempt to tackle him. Without looking, the Rogue hopped over the boy and landed atop his back with a nasty thud. Wally screamed.
“…even the people you saved,” Axel finished, his point clear.
This had all been planned. Somehow they had found out Wally was one of the first people he had saved as the Flash. Because of that, because of all the endangered children, they knew his emotions would be volatile, uncontrolled, capable of slowing him down. They had manipulated him.
“Asshole,” Wally grunted.
He tried to hit Axel, but couldn’t even reach him in his pinned position. The Rogue chuckled, produced handcuffs from his jacket, then used them to restrain the boy.
“Don’t hurt him,” the Flash begged.
“Relax. These are regular ol’ cuffs,” Axel said. “Just something to keep him preoccupied in the meantime.”
Axel walked beneath the Flash, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a vanity mirror. Barry knew what that meant. He’d officially lost. The Rogues had captured him.
“We’re ready, boss man,” Axel said.
And just like that, Axel disappeared with the Flash in tow, leaving but the mirror to shatter against the glossy gym floor.
…
“It’s not your fault,” Daniel repeated to his nephew. “There was nothing you could have done.”
He was one of the first cops on the scene, and when the school cleared out, he was the first one inside the building, searching for Wally. Thankfully, the kid turned up fine, his ego bruised more than his body. After convincing the begrudging preteen to follow procedure and settle down with a panic blanket, they fell into a conversation that made Daniel more than a little uncomfortable.
Truth be told, he wasn’t trying to calm Wally down because the kid was scared. He was trying to calm his nephew down because he was motivated.
“I need to go to STAR Labs,” Wally said, his brow stitched with anger.
“You need to go home. Iris is hella worried about you,” Daniel said. Then, for the utmost emphasis, he added, “There was nothing you could have done.”
“You’re like one of those Tickle Me Elmo dolls. I got it already,” Wally said.
Daniel frowned. He was bad at this. Thank God Wally wasn’t his son.
“It’s not your—”
“Oh my God!” Wally exclaimed. “Can you please just stop? I appreciate the support, but stick to being the cool uncle.”
Daniel felt a smirk come on. “I’m the cool uncle?”
“You’re my only uncle, so there’s not much competition,” Wally teased.
Daniel chuckled and stood up, stretching. “Alright, let’s get out of here. How’s Kirito’s sound for lunch? Or, hell, you want Chipotle, we’ll go to Chipotle.”
“I want to go to STAR Labs,” Wally stated.
That ruined the mood. Daniel thought they had moved past this.
“They’re not open to the public,” he pointed out.
“I can get in,” Wally said.
“How?”
“I know things.”
“You know things?”
“Yeah. Things.”
“What kind of things?”
“Uncle Dan, please,” Wally begged. “I’m the only one who can—”
He abruptly faltered and fell silent. His dark eyes drifted toward his feet. Daniel wasn’t stupid. Hell, he was a detective; he knew how to read people. Wally wanted to play superhero.
“The Flash works with STAR Labs,” Daniel said.
Wally looked up at him, unable to hide his surprise. “How do you—”
“How do you know that?” Daniel interrupted.
Wally’s gaze fell, a telltale sign that whatever he was about to say was bullshit.
“…the internet.”
Daniel sighed, and ran a hand through his thickly gelled hair. Recognizing no other solution, he kneeled down to Wally, looked him in the eyes, and said, “How about this: I go to STAR Labs. I work with them. I save the Flash.”
Wally frowned. “You don’t know…”
“Wally, just trust me, would you? I know more than I let on,” Daniel said.
A moment’s pause, then Wally nodded, relenting. “Fine. But you’re paying for lunch.”
Daniel snorted. “You think I was gonna make some broke ass kid pay for his own burrito?”
Wally shrugged. “I don’t know. Iris is always on about me—”
“Getting a job? Yeah, imagine growing up with her,” Daniel interjected.
Wally grinned. “She makes tiger moms look like house cats.”
“Nice one. Really solid quip,” Daniel teased.
“Fuck off,” Wally said.
“What was that?”
“I said…screw off.”
“Did you now?”
“…you’re losing your rep.”
“Oh no, whatever will I do as the lame uncle?”
…
True to his word, after he bought his nephew lunch and drove him home, Daniel went straight to STAR Labs. He didn’t tell Iris where he was going. He didn’t even tell his dad. Daniel needed to keep this on the DL. He owed Barry; all of Central City owed Barry.
Getting in proved easy enough. ‘Police business’ did the job. Tracking down the people who worked with Barry…that was more difficult.
He asked around about the Blackout Generator. Nobody wanted to associate themselves with it. Nobody wanted to even talk about it. STAR Labs had been struggling big time, and the one name he kept hearing—Dr. Elias—belonged to one of the company’s many casualties in the wake of the accident.
No, in the end, Daniel didn’t find Chester. Chester found him.
“You’ve been saying all the wrong sort of names. Liable to get yourself hurt,” came a forced raspy voice.
Daniel, in mid-conversation with a janitor, turned around to find Chester Runk leaning against the wall, his Star Wars hoodie pulled up over his head. The young man’s face was plastered with grim resolve, his brow furrowed like a PI out of an old noir flick. He looked like a freaking joke.
“Excuse me?” Daniel said. He heard the janitor groan behind him.
All at once, Chester’s demeanor changed, flickering to a cheeriness that, if anything, seemed even more forced than the angst. “Hi! Chester Runk, at your service. Sorry about that. Always wanted to do a whole dramatic entrance, y’know?”
“Uh huh,” Daniel nodded, shaking Chester’s hand. “Detective West. Good to meet you.”
“Likewise. Now if you’d follow me, I am the droid you’re looking for,” Chester explained, leading Daniel toward the back of the building.
They stopped inside an enormous laboratory that looked far too big for one man (boy?) who looked like he was as likely an intern as anything. The remains of the dreaded Blackout Generator lingered to the back of the room, still labeled somewhat ironically. Chester situated himself atop a desk, ignoring the many gadgets around him as he slid across it.
“So, what can I do you for?” Chester asked.
“You’ve seen the news, right?” Daniel said. Chester nodded. Daniel cleared his throat, and continued, “Then I’ll cut to the chase. I’m here to save the Flash.”
“Right. And why’d you come here to do that?” Chester replied. If he knew anything, the young man hid it well. He looked as pleasantly naïve as ever.
“You work with him,” Daniel stated.
“Do I?”
“…yes?” Daniel grimaced. Had he made a mistake? The accident, the costume, all the visits to STAR Labs, Barry had to be in cahoots with them.
“We’re scientists, not superheroes,” Chester said.
“I know, but you…you work support.”
“Nope.”
“Is there someone else I can…who’s in charge here?” Daniel asked.
“Gehenna Hewitt,” Chester said, “She’s in a coma.”
“I’m sorry, I…” Daniel frowned. He had one last card to play. “Do you know Barry Allen?”
Surprise flickered across Chester’s face. Boom. He got him.
“That’s what I thought,” Daniel said, stepping forward. “Barry’s a special guy, isn’t he? Really, really talented.”
Chester dry swallowed. “Yep. Brilliant scientist. And cop.”
“A real hero,” Daniel said.
Chester tensed up, then, after a moment’s pause, relaxed. Sighing, he locked eyes with Daniel and said, “You got a plan?”
…
James lit a match, then used it to spark the end of his cigarette. Screw lighters. He’d always been a fan of old-fashioned things: jazz, board games, ye olde fire starters. He supposed if he was really old-fashioned he’d used a flint and—
Crap. Again. He was distracting himself, trying not to think about…
James looked down at the package in his hands, then up at the blind woman on the bench across the way. This late, Blacksoil Park should have been all but abandoned, left only to horny teens and drug dealers. Yet this ancient hag stuck around, just chilling, maybe sleeping, her dress unbuttoned a quarter way, leaving a disturbing amount of sagging cleavage in the open.
She hadn’t so much as twitched for the last hour. Was she dead? No. No way. Just, like, not that long ago she’d fed some pigeons. Speaking of old-fashioned…
James grimaced, and took a drag. He needed to open the package. He’d postponed it long enough. Forget the creepy ass old lady. Forget that it’s not yours. Open the stupid…
“Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are you, handsome? That’s why you were never the leader,” the old woman spoke with a thick cockney accent.
“Excuse me?” James replied, more confused than offended.
“You can be clever, sure, but you’re not smart. There’s a difference,” she continued, “Maybe it’s just that you don’t have a sense of self-preservation. Not uncommon in your type, certainly.”
James’ mind seemed to become thick, slow-moving like sludge. “You’re…you’re not blind.”
“Finally! Took you too bloody long to realize I’ve been watching you,” the woman said.
She stood up with surprising grace, and strutted over to James. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she was trying to seem sexy, like a femme fatale out of an old spy flick. Instead of sitting beside James, she straddled him. He tried to protest, but she shushed him quiet. Slipping her wallet out from her bra, she flashed a silver badge before he could push her off.
“James Jesse, we need to talk,” she whispered.
The wind blew soundlessly. James’ lips twisted into a frown. Suddenly, he felt the muzzle of a pistol against the back of his neck.
“What the fu—”