The Fastest Man Alive: LEGACY Part 1 "Lightning Strikes Twice"
Flash #8 - August, Year One	by John Rabon

Eddie Traynor had studied safe-cracking for most of his criminal career, and knew how to break into just about any safe out on the market, especially the TS-183 walk-in used at Keystone Jewelers.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he said. The numbers on his device clicked as each number in the locking code revealed itself to Traynor.

Eddie was never particularly good at anything growing up, save a small ability to break into small combination locks, which only seemed to come in handy while at school. Breaking into other students’ lockers, Eddie would steal candy, food, money, drugs, or anything that simply appealed to him.

Eddie never went beyond high school, dropping out as soon as he could, taking his small talent and studying carefully to break into bigger and more complex systems.

Click.

Chuck-chissssss.

“Yes,” whispered Eddie as the final sequence in the lock clicked into place and magnetic seals sprang free, hissing as the broken seals released imprisoned air back into the world.

In and out of jail since turning eighteen, Eddie was like many other criminals—always looking for the big score.

The last job.

It was mere child’s play to pop the lock on the safe deposit boxes upon entering. Hell, Eddie felt almost as if he could’ve used a paperclip on all of them.

Somehow, though, things seemed different as he opened up one of the boxes in the corner. It appeared empty at first, until a soft reflection of light revealed a large jewel sitting in the far reaches of the box, enveloped by shadow until exposed.

Eddie reached in and drew the jewel out into the safe, where the exposure caused it to shimmer in the moonlight, revealing its deep blue color.

Then the shimmer turned to a spark, bursting forth a blue flame that spread like wildfire before Eddie had any time to react. He tried to throw the jewel away, but couldn’t.

It would not let go of him.

So the flames enveloped Eddie Traynor, and while he burned, he was not injured. Eddie now burned of much different things. He burned of deep, dark emotions that smoldered in the blackness of his soul.

He burned of envy.
He burned of hate.
He burned of rage.

In Central City, the Flash museum stands as a testament to one of Earth’s most endearing heroes.

Barry Allen, the Flash, a simple forensic scientist with a gift of speed who saved the world in a time of Crisis, destroying a powerful weapon set to destroy several universes. With countless lives at stake, the hero rose to the occasion and took it upon himself to make sure that no one died while he could prevent it. At that moment when everything was on the line, Barry ran faster than he ever had before, and disappeared in a flash, never to be seen again.

At this monument, Wally West stands looking straight up into the statue of his uncle, remembering. Sometimes he wished he were fast enough to touch that day almost fifteen years ago…

That summer, Wally had finally gotten out of the sixth level of Dante’s Inferno that he called home. Away from the yelling, the arguments, the verbal abuse. Away from Blue Valley, Nebraska. Thank God.

Wally could remember what a relief it was to see Aunt Iris as he got off of the bus. She was the only person who really ever seemed to understand him. She never spoke down to Wally like Mom and Dad. Aunt Iris always came down to his level whenever she talked to him. He was so glad stepping off that bus and into Iris’s presence that it felt like being freed from prison.

Of course, Iris wasn’t the only thing Wally looked forward to seeing in Central City. For the past couple years since the first appearance of the speedster, Wally had tracked the career of his hero, the Flash. The Flash was everything to Wally, just the end-all-be-all of his teenage existence. Most kids at the time looked up to Mr. T, but not Wally. He was even the president of the Blue Valley chapter of Flash’s fan club—and it’s only member.

He knew Flash lived in Central, and Wally assumed at the speed the hero moved, he’d be able to catch a glimpse of the Flash as he zoomed through the city streets.

Little did Wally know he was in for so much more.

On his first day in Central City, Aunt Iris introduced him to her fiancé, Barry Allen. Wally didn’t think much of Barry when they were first introduced. Barry was late as usual, and was *yawn* a scientist—not a superhero. A boring guy with a boring job, not to mention Barry’s crewcut.

Who wears a crewcut anymore? thought Wally. This guy’s totally lame.

Things quickly changed as soon as Wally heard that Barry was friends with his hero. Wally had done a double take upon hearing this, sizing up Barry once more and standing with his mouth agape that somebody so dull and boring could possibly have any connection to an awesome guy like the Flash, but as Wally stepped into Barry’s lab—

There he was! I mean—The Flash! Really there! Wow! Wally’s anxiety and joy could barely be contained, and the ten year old suddenly felt as if he could move that fast too, he wanted to shake his hand, pose for a photo, and ask all the questions he’d thought of, lying awake in bed thinking about what it would be like to be a superhero. He wanted to do it all at once.

The Flash was patient with Wally, answering every question except who he really was underneath that mask. Time went by quickly as Flash explained everything about what it was like to have super-speed, and both the fan and the hero forgot about time and the billowing storm clouds outside. The storm had become more violent since afternoon, its pitch-black clouds now spouting off thunder and lightning as if announcing the coming of something powerful into the world.

Wally’s final question was the biggest, and the most far-reaching statement he’d ever make.

“So, how’d you get to be so fast?”

“Well, it all really happened in a laboratory,” the costumed hero stated, speeding around the room moving chemicals from one cabinet to the one Wally stood in front of, setting up the jars and test tubes in a particular order. “I was standing—in front of a chemical cabinet—just—like—this one!” he started, putting emphasis on the last statement, even though his words were broken up by the velocity at which he moved.

“And?” cried Wally as he stood on his tiptoes, totally energized by the moment. Were his excitement powerful enough, he’d have been able to fly

“Nah, you won’t believe it,” said the Flash, waving his hand away and turning to the heralding storm outside.

“Try me.”

“You sure?” the hero teased, holding out to raise the young man’s excitement.

“Yeah—I’m sure.”

Then Flash turned back to Wally, making gestures with his hands like a carnival showman, pulling his audience in.

“There was a ferocious thunderstorm brewing outside! Lightning bolts crackled and ripped through the sky! It was nighttime but the lightning lit up the sky as bright as if it was still day!”

“And, and?”

“And—suddenly…without warning…one of those bolts burst through the window, shattering the cabinet and covering me with electrified chemicals!” His voice now rose with dramatic overtones, his gestures even more wild and excitable as his hands flashed to show the exploding cabinet and shook his body to mimic being hit by the chemicals. “From that moment on, I was transformed…supercharged!”

In the child’s eyes, Flash-Barry-could see he’d done his job well. Wally was hanging on every syllable that came out of his mouth. To the kid it looked as if someone had just told him Santa Clause was really real, that he really could fly if he just thought of happy thoughts, and that the things he read in comics really could come true.

“Wow! That’s totally cool! You are soooo lucky!”

“Ha ha, I guess so,” chuckled Flash, taking pleasure in the success of his performance.

“I wish something like that would happen to me,” Wally said, thinking at once of the many things he’d do, including running as fast as he could away from Blue Valley and the life that sought to keep him stuck in place.

The Flash let loose another laugh, “Sorry Wally, what happened to me was a billion-to-one chance. You know what they say; lightning never strikes the same place twice!”

Famous last words.

Swiftly, as if on cue from a higher power, a lightning bolt broke away from its brothers and aimed directly for the laboratory window. Its sheer speed was enough that even Flash didn’t see it, flying through the electrically charged air like a bat out of hell, moving faster than anything alive.

KRA-KOOOM!

The window flew into pieces as the lightning raced through it—the cabinet shattered into splinters—and the chemicals threw themselves onto Wally West, 300 kilovolts of supercharged beakers bathing the young man in their power.

To both standing there, time froze, Flash and Wally were paralyzed as the same fate that had changed a slow, constantly late forensic scientist into a superpowered demigod now gave power to this young man as well.

A billion-to-two.

Wally continued to stare at the monument, knowing truly that his life had never been the same from that day forward. Taken in as Kid Flash, Barry eventually revealed his superhero identity to Wally, and trained him to see that his freedom wouldn’t come by running away from home, but in realizing that he had the power to free himself.

Then Barry died.

Wally then took up the mantle of the Flash, hoping to ensure that Barry Allen’s legacy would never be forgotten. Oftentimes Wally felt he still hadn’t quite lived up to Barry’s image, and as the statue loomed over him, so it seems Barry’s spirit did as well.

It’s a powerful feeling to have when one feels he must fill the shoes of another, as Aaron did with Moses, as Peter with Christ.

“FLASH!”

The loud shout of his name signaled the oncoming of the combined efforts of Central and
Keystone’s media personalities. Wally knew he’d have to deal with them eventually since his breakup with Linda.

Since he took on the mantle of the Flash, Wally had chosen to reveal his identity to the world, craving the fame that came from being a superhero, the attention only the spotlight could give. Of course, that was a long time ago, when he was young and naïve, blissfully unaware of the loss of privacy that is the price of being a public figure or celebrity.

The reporters descended down upon the Flash Museum, swarming over the hero like a pack of flies. Their voices created a collective buzzing as they spouted off questions and statements, each of them trying to be heard at once.

“Flash!”

“Mr. West!”

“Flash!”

“Mark Johnson, Associated Press!”

“Angela Holcombe, Keystone-Central Herald!”

“WKEY! Over here, Mr. West!”

“Daily Planet!”

“Do you have any explanation for—“

“Is it true that—“

“—your connection to Karen Starr—“

“—romantically involved?”

“How do you feel about this speed cult that’s—“

“—status of your relationship with WGBS reporter Linda Park?”

“—cheated on—“

“How does the rest of the Flash family feel—“

“What’s your connection to the Temple of Triumphant Velocity?”

Wally just looked them over and said nothing. He scanned the crowd several times over, looking for one reporter in particular. Just that one, but she wasn't there.

Linda.

“No comment,” Wally flatly replied.

“On what?” inquired the unshaven reporter from the Associated Press.

“On everything.”

Wally could sense the circus of questions about to start up again, reporters don’t care to be snubbed, but it was cut short by the sudden activation of just about every pager and cell phone in the group. Raised microphones and tape recorders were lowered as media personalities went for their hips to see what piece of breaking news might be more worth unraveling than the personal life of a superhero.

Now fixated on the incoming news, the reporters seemed almost oblivious to Wally’s presence, and he automatically switched from pissed-off public figure into concerned hero.

“What is it?” he asked, his face muscles tightening, his emotions stone cold and ready for the worst.

“Fire, Central City bowery district,” the AP reporter read off of his message. “They think it’s a Rogue, maybeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—” but time stood still on his last word as Wally kicked his super-speed into high gear, freezing all the reporters between the ticks of a second. By the time the man completed his sentence, the Flash would already be there.

As Wally ran, as he raced against the wind, against the sounds in the air, he couldn’t help but feel the fuel of a memory behind him.

The memory of Barry Allen, a simple scientist turned modern-day Mercury, an utterly selfless man who only sought to protect others.

The memory of a stormy summer day when the lightning blessed a young kid whose life was going nowhere fast, who then learned from Barry how to be a hero.

The memory of Barry’s sacrifice to save all, and Wally’s promise to carry on his legacy.