T H E F L A S H
Revalations Part Two:
NOT FAST ENOUGH
"ONLY DEATH AND DESTRUCTION AWAITS YOUR WORLD SHOULD YOU REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE IN MY MASTER'S TEST."
One of the Surfer's hand began to glow with the power cosmic. The power was so volatile that it's throbbing was audible even to the Flash on the ground. At the first sign of the Surfer raising his hand, the Flash broke into a sprint. The Surfer tracked her gait with his eye as he prepared to unfurl the cosmic energy in the speedster's direction.
"AND IT IS MY DUTY TO DELIVER IT."
"Who is your-" Iris started, however she was unable to go continue before the Surfer raised one of his hands. The surfboard glowed with energy, and it passed over up to his hand. As soon as that happened she started off. Breaking into a sprint she started circling him at high speed, such as she had done earlier to contain his blast of energy in the street. What she needed to do was somehow disrupt his connection to the board, when she ran at high speeds Iris found that she could sometimes cause electrical disturbances. Usually she tried to avoid doing that. Today, she was actively tryin to cause disturbances.
Trusting the rumours that Superman had super hearing she spoke over the sound of the rushing wind. Her voice distorted by the speed she was going at, she had to draw out her words to make sure he could hear her. "Try and part him from his board." She pushed herself harder. Lightning swirling around as the dust kicks up in the air in a way similar to that of a tornado. She varied her speed, slowing and speeding up at random intervals to try and prevent the Surfer from succeeding to strike her. This had to work. The longer this fight went on, the more abilities the Surfer seemed to pull out of his bag of tricks.
Now that there were two of them? It was the time to strike.
She turned to see his feet lift slightly off the board and she smurked. Pushing on the speed now that he was off balance she kept pushing until the point where he and the board began to separate, he went to tumble and she shouted over the wind as she turned to grab the board. "Get him! I got the board!"
I have to admit, this woman's pretty incredible. Not only can she move so quickly that even I nearly lose track of her, but she can use her speed in ways I would have never even considered. Creating an ad-hoc tornado like that? That doesn't just take power, but intelligence and imagination. I find myself wondering for a moment if she's single...
....but only for a moment. There's still a job to do.
Cracking the earth beneath my feet as I shove off, I charge headlong into the vortex, muscling my way through buffeting winds that would uproot a skyscraper before ramming my shoulder as hard as possible into the surfer's abdomen. I clamp my arms around his waist in a spear-tackle. It's not particularly imaginative, but it's certainly effective, as we slam into the ground several hundred yards away a moment later.
As we tumble through the spray of upheaved dirt and rocks, I'm able to regain my bearings in time to catch the surfer. Slipping behind him, I hook my arms underneath his, then clasp my hands together and press down on the back of his neck.
I don't know if we can seriously hurt him-- I don't even know if he feels pain. But as long as I've got my hands on him, he's not going anywhere.
"Tell your master, whoever they are," I say as the surfer tries in vain to pry free, "that the Earth isn't theirs to 'test.' The people who live here don't answer to you or your masters. So you can take your judgments and condemnations, and you can--*ngggh!*"
The Surfer's body once again pulses with phenomenal cosmic energy, and pain shoots through me. It's a sharp, almost tingling pain, like banging your funnybone against the counter, only coursing from my head to my toes. The ground beneath us, even the air above and around us, is disintegrated into subatomic particles from the unthinkable heat and shock.
But my grip doesn't break. I grit my teeth and bear down. Somewhere in the back of my head, I think of an old rock song Dad would sometimes listen to while working in the barn, and the last line of the chorus springs to mind.
"Just 'cause you've got the power," I say, by body shaking from the strain of the surfer's own strength and the searing pain of his counterattack. "Doesn't mean you've got the right."
For just a fraction of a moment, the surfer's guard breaks. I don't know if what I said got through to him or he's just being worn down, but the disintegrating bubble of cosmic energy surrounding us breaks, maybe only for an instant.
Maybe just enough time for the Flash to finish this.