In the two short weeks of toiling my trees, it had finally come to
fruition. I thought I was ready for the next step.
I stood in the center of the greenhouse I had transformed into a
lab. The San Francisco sun was leaking through the windows
with a warmness that made my rough skin gleam with new light.
The machinations of my body coming to life, bringing new fuel to my
weathered body—it had been too long since I last slept.
I looked with apprehension at the trio of large trunks that elevated
from the ceramic pots. The mammoth roots had burrowed holes
through the salmon bowls with a need for life. A need I
ultimately shared. It felt so very soon, but my excitement
and need for success outweighed my scientific mind. I needed
to see if my children were ready. They were to be the
world’s champions. A few lives of refuge were
sacrificed yes, but it was all in good cause. The Lifeblood
of Earth was choking, and my children would give her air once more.
The
door behind me slammed open in an audacious clanking of tough
metal. I turned my head to greet them; my grin was indeed
read on their faces, it was fear on their faces as they pushed the four
hobos into the lab. The foursome covered in rags and foul
dirt crumbled to the floor in a thud. One’s
wretched hands clambered up the pots trying to establish purchase on
its rims.
One of my children’s roots slinked from the ground, and
slammed its hefty root into the fat stomach of the greasy
elder. Sticky blood oozing from the gaping wound.
The old man tried to wheeze a scream but it was too late.
Dark sludge escaped his lips as his skin turned chalk white, and his
large veins rose to his skin.
My other Children moved as well. The roots stabbed into grimy
flesh with a feast of hunger. The cacophony of screams was
music to my ears, as the scent of blood and soil filled my nose with a
delicious sense of pride. They had grown so much in the short
time we’d been together. Just last week I was
grinding up flesh and saturating their soil with the bones and blood of
society’s victims. Now they no longer needed baby
mush. They acted out their hunger in callous
violence. A feeding frenzy I could not take my eyes off
of. I believe even Poison Ivy would turn greener with envy.
The floor of my green house office flooded with the rancor of black
bile. The bile was not in fact from the humans; it was but
the soil of my children’s wombs. Soot and bone meal
for growth was passing from the hollows of the roots and purged to make
room for the blood and fat of the humans.
Soon they’d be ready to walk on their own. Soon
they would be ready to devastate the streets of San Francisco bloated
on the Cancer called mankind. I felt my hands shaking with
the excitement that would come.
I watched the entire orgy, as the hobos went limp, their bodies drained
of life, their bones broken. The large roots of my children
snaked from the disgusting bodies painted with a lacquer of
blood.
I gazed at the homeless that were brought in. Their once
plump bodies now chalk white and reduced to human shaped
prunes. My fearful help made themselves known once more as
they clanked towards the bodies of the dispossessed unzipping plastic
body bags. They would simply be ground up into meal for new
soil. A second batch of seedlings was screaming to be
fed.
Of course I was ready for the next step, perhaps I was rushing
things. But I had to know if they were ready. The
Earth had been dying long enough.
The
Emerald Archer...
Herbology: Part Two
'Slow Growth'
The
events of this issue take place before The Flash # 14
Green Arrow stood in the decrepit
Alleyway. The green hood that cupped his skull and let shadows
cover his dark skin felt good. After spending more and more time
as Connor Hawke, the archer felt liberated when he donned the eye wrap
and shouldered his double quiver. Despite being behind a mask
that was intended to obscure his identity, he felt more like
himself. Perhaps because he spent so much time only being Green
Arrow, Connor had become the mask.
The thin crime fighter crouched to his
haunches. His gloved fingers felt the rough and broken concrete
of the former asylum for Rex’s friends. A home that was no
longer safe.
Arrow wondered how he could even begin finding clues
for the missing people. Until a few years ago, he was but a
student studying to become a monk at an Ashram in Nappa Valley.
It was not until his father came and rescued him from that life—
did he realize he had no idea what the world was like. In many
ways since he first donned the mask and hood, he had been getting
educated in a world that was foreign to him. Even after a few
years, he was still struggling to get adjusted to a world that was not
tranquil, one that opposed every tenant Buddha had ever
described. Obviously this ignorance didn’t make him a very
good detective.
He let out a deep breath, his eyes rising from the
ground. The bright orbs that gleamed through the eye slits in the
emerald band scanned the dark area as he had done countless times
before. He didn’t even have an idea what he was looking for.
I n all ways, the teachings of Buddha transcribed
life. As a Buddhist he existed to understand the world in the
simple ways, taking away the folds that was meant to blind and temp the
human spirit. The concept was easy, but it took a lifetime to
truly understand.
As Arrow watched the scene, his mind filtered back
to his childhood, and to Master Jansen. “Life is made up of many masks.
Everything you see with your eyes is but a disguise to what is truly
there. To find the truth you must not just look. Young
Connor you must SEE. You must know all aspects of life; they are
the parts the unenlightened have been blinded to.”
The archer felt a glow of warmth attach itself to
his heart as he heard and remembered the words of his master. How
strange even so far away from him now, the sage’s words still
felt new. Lessons he had at one time taken into his heart, thrown
away in his path to be his Father’s son.
The green eyes behind the emerald mask closed
tightly. In his mind he began to focus his ears on the beating of
his heart. He felt the pulse beginning to slow. His ears
became alive the traffic humming past the opening of the alley.
He felt his mind focusing more. The noise of the cars glided like
wind hitting the smooth concrete walls, bouncing off the metal
dumpsters. He could visualize the area as the sound hit and
sculpted the area in his mind.
As he concentrated something felt off about the way
the sounds bounced off unevenly on the dumpster. For most of it,
it was a brutal acoustic but towards the bottom, something caught the
sound strangely. His eyes flashed opened wide. He rose in a quick
motion, his arrows clanked against each other with the sudden movement.
As though he was a man on the mission he took quick
steps towards the rusted and green dumpster pressed against the left
most wall. His boots clicked in rapid thuds nearing the dull
box. He had no idea what he was looking for, but a good idea that
something was there that shouldn’t have been.
He bent his back his hands rested on his
kneecaps. Arrow’s emerald eyes scanned the bottom face of
the dumpster for a full three minutes. His vision watching for
every nuance and every abrasion on the bottom—surely he assumed
that forensics would have combed this area. It had been cleaned
up since the first time he saw the crime scene. But something
didn’t sit right. It was too fast of an ordeal. Of
course to the State of California, homeless deaths were always good
business unless the public found out.
“This is ridiculous,” Connor’s
voice spoke from under the hood’s shadows. “I may be
good at fighting, but actual crime solving…” He slunk back
down to his knees, his head bending below his shoulders.
“What am I doing? Sure, Dad would have been here checking
every finger print, and finding every scrap of blood stained
gravel.”
“Don’t knock yourself too low
kid.” A familiar voice spoke from above the costumed
archer. “All that self pity, and Dad was better crap might
be a good excuse in The Hall of Justice but ain’t gonna fly out
here.”
“Sorry Rex, maybe you were right about the
police.”
“But they still aren’t gonna do
much. Green Arrow, you’re really our best hope,” the
aged hobo spoke, his face flushing with a pride he didn’t even
realize he had anymore.
Arrow’s head turned from the craned position
he was in. As he did, his eyes took on Rex’s beaten shoes,
which contrasted the green of the dumpster enough to cause his eyes to
see what he hadn’t before. Plastered to the bottom edge of
the rubbish unit was something a few shades more green than the dim
metallic shade of the box. “Hold on.”
Rex went quiet as Arrow bent his body forward.
His gloved hands felt across the cold metal dumpster, his fingers
hitting the bump where the strange twig stood fixed with dirt and grime
to the dumpster’s bottom. Carefully he pinched it with his
index finger and thumb slowly peeling it from the filthy metal
husk. As it pulled free he loosely closed his hand and righted
his back, his body once again turning to full height.
“Find what you were looking for?”
Rex asked, his curiosity obviously perked by indication of his bushy
eyebrows rising on his cinched forehead.
“I’m not sure, but it seems out of
place,” Arrow gave away in pure honesty. He looked at the
brightly green twig in the palm of his emerald-gloved hand.
“With all the footprints marred by soil when I was here
yesterday… and it seems strange that a twig from a tree would be
green—aren’t they usually brown?”
“You were here yesterday?” Rex
asked, his eyes staring at the masked archer as though he had no idea
of the hero’s alter-identity.
Arrow had opened a rectangular compartment on the
brown vinyl belt that hugged his waist, dropping the twig inside.
His head however instantly rose at Rex’s confusing
question. The shadows slid up his face exposing his chin and full
lips. His dark skin however made it hard to tell where the
shadows ended and where flesh began. “You brought me
here.”
“You obviously have me confused with some
other devilishly good-looking hobo,” Rex spoke. “I only
took one person here yesterday, and he did say something about you both
doing martial arts together.”
Arrow brought his hand to the rim of his hood
drawing it from his skull. The crown of blond hair contrasted his
skin in the darkness like black and white. It had always seemed
obvious to Connor that everyone could pretty much tell he was Green
Arrow if they had any idea who he was. Not just the fact that
without the hood it was only a slender piece of cloth hiding his
identity, but the fact that there just weren’t very many
black/Korean/white guys walking around San Francisco. “We
go to the same hair stylist to.”
“So the two of you must be pretty good
friends,” Rex spoke his smile spreading across his face.
“He’s a very good kid. A little naïve sometimes
but aren’t all good people?”
“Connor’s naïve?” Green Arrow
said taking a step towards Rex. “Isn’t that calling
the kettle black?”
“No.” Rex’s arm moved much
quicker that even Green Arrow’s trained reflexes could register
it. The man’s large hand grabbed at the green and brown
spandex balling it into his fist. Arrow stepped back on his right
foot turning it to the side. His chest tensed in Rex’s
attempt to push him to the wall. Arrow locked himself in place
looking at the homeless man with a strange expression.
“It’s protecting a friend’s identity who has no idea
how important such a thing is.”
“Even though my birth name is Connor, it
isn’t like he sees the light of day that much. And there is
no one close to him. All of my friends know me as Green
Arrow.”
“Your mother?” Rex asked tightening his
grip on the archer’s costume.
“Currently on the run with her criminal
husband,” he said in a grim tone.
“What about the soup kitchen? What about
all the people who now know you? What if the Silver Monkey or
Lady Shiva found out you worked there, that you cared about the
homeless? The fiends you fight seek revenge when you defeat
them… they will murder those you care about. They will
destroy your life.” As his words fell from his mouth,
Rex’s blue eyes glazed with the threat of tears. He let got
of the hero’s shirt and backed up. “Don’t be
stupid Green Arrow. That mask is all you have to protect those things
that mean something to you.”
The words of Rex, melded into the archer’s
brain as he moved across the skyline of San Francisco. He had
left the alley the moment that Rex let go of him. The way he
spoke, and the super human reflexes were both puzzling. That
mystery however would have to take a number. Stopping the
kidnapping and apparent murder of San Francisco’s homeless took
first priority. He’d have enough time to talk to Rex about
himself later.
San Francisco’s sky was turning gray as the
Green Arrow’s emerald boots slapped from rooftop to
rooftop. The brittle mid-California air feeling like an old
friend as it rushed across his bare cheeks. The dazzling lights
of the Warf were already starting to dot light in vivid blues and red
in severe contrast to brackish tones that dusk was pushing on the posh
skyscrapers. In the distance the famous Golden Gate Bridge
glittered like a constellation of yellow stars.
Green Arrow tried to concentrate on the matter at
hand. The twig and the sod marked footprints were the only leads
he had. It struck the young hero as strange that it was in fact
the only thing that seemed to mark the incident. Sure a botanist
could have swung past the dark alleyway, but it felt off. The
soil made footprints marked every action one of the kidnappers had
made. The twig could have been nothing as well, but when mixed
with the footprints, he had to believe with the right information it
could be just the clue he was looking for. That or a dead
end—but it was all he had to go on. He just wished he had
even a small inkling of how all it all could be put together.
The archer flung from yet another’s building
edge. However this time he let his body, miss the lip of the
earthy toned building that stood in front of him. Instead his
green gloved hands coiled around the girder of a fire escape. His
shoulders rolled with the momentum; his elbows bending letting his
knuckles touch his chest. His body moved upwards in a blur doing
a quick back flip. His feet made a dreadful clang as he landed on
the fire escape’s base.
He took the next series of metal steps down to an
open window. The yellow and white Chinese curtains bellowed
through the opening. Arrow’s heart thumped in his
chest. He would leave his apartment window cracked for easy
entrance, but he knew he didn’t keep it completely open…
that was just asking for trouble.
Carefully he crawled through his open window; both
floor lamps in his living room were illuminated bouncing off the wooden
floors. His eyes flicked from side to side. He could smell
the tinge of tobacco, in the air. Someone definitely was
here. He just wasn’t sure if they got what they wanted
yet—what ever that could be. The young hero instantly
grabbed his bow from his shoulder and notched an arrow.
“Your security is awful kid.” A familiar
voice called from kitchen doorway.
Arrow snapped his hips stepping with his right
foot. His torso guided the arrowhead towards the door and the
owner of the voice. He squinted his eyes, at the darkened
doorway, unable to make out the form’s identity. He could
only see a slight glint of the figure’s glasses. They had
to be prescription. “Wrong place to happen into, man.”
“Connor put that shit down,” Eddie
Fyiers spoke walking through the doorway. The shadows melted away
from his silhouette showing the former CIA agent with a cigarette
dangling from under his graying moustache. His softening body was
covered with a blue and yellow Hawaiian shirt two sizes to big.
“Eddie!” Green Arrow said, loosening the
tension between the butt of his arrow and the drawstring. “What
are you doing here at this time of night? You could have at least
called.”
“Well I figured you’d be doing your
super hero thing, so I figured I’d see you when you were
done.”
“You didn’t have to break into my
apartment. I could have killed you.”
“Riiiight when have you ever killed
anything? Wouldn’t that go against your Buddhist
crap?” Eddie spoke plucking the Marlboro red from his
mouth. “But you really need to do something about
security.”
“Look, I was just scolded by an old homeless
guy about my lack of alter ego, and I am dreadfully sorry Eddie but I
don’t have the time to take notes about upgrading the security of
my top floor apartment.”
Eddie stood silent a moment, his cheeks changing
from the deeply tan tone to scarlet red, moments before his laughter
exploded from his throat. “Is the monk getting a
backbone? It’s been a little while since I checked up on
you, but I’m shocked.”
“I’m sorry if I was short, Eddie. Things
are a bit complicated right now,” Green Arrow said finally
slipping the arrow back into his quiver. “I have some
things I need to take care of right now.” He turned towards
the black and white striped couch that was pushed against the left most
wall. Like everything in Milo Armtiage’s apartment it looked
expensive.
“So I’ll make this quick then,”
Eddie said, his eyes following Arrow’s movements as the boy
pulled his quiver from his back and slid it with a slight rustle onto
the couch. “I’ve ran into a bit of trouble I’m going
to need to take of, so I’m going to be out of town for a little
while.”
Arrow turned his head slowly towards the man who had
been a constant companion with him since his father died and he was
thrust into this new life of super heroics. “You will be
okay on your own? Once I finish this, I could go with you.”
Eddie shook his head. “No, it seems right now
that San Francisco is where you need to be. Don’t worry I can
take care of myself.”
Arrow took a series of quick steps robbing the
distance between Eddie and himself. His thin arms wrapped around
his friend’s larger body pulling him into a hug. Eddie deftly
moved his hand holding the cigarette and put his own arms around the
hero. The former agent patting the hero’s back in a rugged
manly gesture.
“Take care of yourself, Eddie, and don’t
do anything stupid,” Arrow said in a voice that seemed to be the
product of tears.
“I’ll be fine, Connor.”
Eddie spoke in a dead panned voice. “Now go save the world
or whatever it is you were doing.”
Arrow nodded slowly as the man known as Ironhorse
turned his stout back on him. He felt the need to say more to
Eddie, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead he stood
watching the man who had been by his side almost constantly since he
left the Ashram walk from the room in heavy footsteps.
Despite how he spoke, Eddie was in fact
worried. What he found himself in the middle of was more
dangerous than he could let on. It wasn’t that he was
worried that Connor would get hurt; the boy had proven he was
tough. No instead it was more of a personal reason for Eddie, the
final chapter that he needed to close.
Arrow slid his cell phone open in a solid click, the
apartment door closing with a thud. He shook his head with a
dizzying flurry, trying to rid himself of tears. He
couldn’t worry about Eddie right now. He had to find out
what was happening to the homeless of San Francisco.
His green gloved fingers quickly raced across the
keypad. The LCD screen shifting to a black screen before a series
of computer code began streaming down the empty screen in a rapid
feed. He slid the phone to his ear, listening to the
screech of protected data as the call bounced from satellite to
satellite ensuring a completely secure conversation even on something
as security prone as an EVO network.
“Hey Connor, what’s up?” the rapid
voice of Wally West asked through the headset.
“Sorry for bothering you Wally, I just need
some help on something,” Connor explained.
“Well can you make it FAST?” Wally
asked. “I’m supposed to be watching all these monitors, and
J’onn has been pretty touchy about things today.”
“Sure, look I’m on the trail of some
kidnapper or killer or something, but my only lead is a little weird
and I was wondering if perhaps I could get it analyzed.”
“Weird, sounds like a super villain to me
buddy,” Wally said with a laugh. “What is it
exactly?”
“It’s a strange twig, like from a tree
but it’s a bright green.” Connor sighed knowing how
silly it sounded. “It’s really just a hunch, but
it’s all I got right now, and I feel that…”
“Well I can’t help you but—“
“I understand. Thanks anyways,
Wally.”
“Nononowait!” Wally’s voice
got quick as he was cut off. “I can’t but J’onn
I’m sure would be able to tell ya if it’s anything
important. You are in San Francisco, so you do know where the
nearest transporter is right?”
“Code’s haven’t
changed?”
“They should be the same. Soooo see you
thirty minutes? I’ll let J’onn know.”
“Thanks Wally.”
36 minutes later. The Watchtower.
Green Arrow felt light-headed. It’d been
over a year since he’d been at the Watchtower* and forgot how much badly
the teleporter messed with one’s biology. He wondered how
the members of the JLA got used to such treatment. Of course most
members didn’t even have to use the teleporter, it was only the
human members like Batman, and Black Canary that had to suffer.
[[*Connor’s last visit was
in JLA #2 during the Justice League try outs –Jae]]
The Watchtower’s entrance bay looked like a
set from The Jetsons’ live action film. The room was an
unrelenting rectangle with hard corners. Everything from the
floor, to the ceiling looked to be made from steel, and all of it was
gray and looked cold to the touch.
There however was a sparse bit of color added to the
room’s décor but it only added to the inhuman look to the
space. A long “L” shaped sofa was pushed against the
furthest most wall, blazing a brilliant blue. On the left side of
its arm sat a short lamp stand with a beautiful pink plant exposing its
buds from the dark soot. In front of the single bit of furniture
was another table its glass surface covered with a sporadic display of
magazines, most of which Green Arrow had never heard of before.
The Archer hadn’t given the small bit of
furniture even the smallest bit of notice however. He had turned
to the left wall, where a large window (or was it a view screen) had
been cut into most of the steel wall’s surface exposing a view of
Earth from the onyx void of space. It wasn’t the first time
he’d seen Earth from the moon’s perspective, but it was a
sight that he always sought to look at. He believed with his
heart the insignificance of the Earth compared to the vastness of space
was the greatest of all illustrations of the wisdom of Buddha.
A sudden high-powered wind caused Arrow to turn
around from his stargazing. He spun on his heels as though it was
reflex. A scarlet blur cycloned around the gray room leaving a
maze of after images, before the figure came to a stop inches from
where he stood. The Archer stood where he had spun looking into
the stormy blue gaze of The Flash who was wearing his trade mark smile.
“You got here late, Connor,” the
speedster said in a way that it was hard to surmise if he was joking or
being serious.
“Thank you for doing this, Wally,” Arrow
said nodding.
“Let’s save the thanks until we see if
J’onn can help,” the Flash said walking towards the open
doorway he’d just came through.
The doorway led into a black hallway. Along
the walls were framed photos of various incarnations of the JLA.
As Green Arrow followed a few steps behind the walking Flash, he
couldn’t help but see the images of ghosts. His Father, Hal
Jordan, Kyle Rayner, Ralph Dibny, and many others were staring at him
as though they were in the middle of the best times of their
lives. He fought back the tears as he looked forwards. They
were walking through the Great Hall.
It seemed much bigger when it was empty. Green
Arrow turned his head looking at the large windows that ran across the
furthest most wall. The small white dots over a black void were
all they had to offer. The room seemed just like the void
of space. It didn’t seem like anything but an empty room
with some gigantic monitors and a large table. Despite its sci-fi
wonders, the Watchtower was not so amazing without the legendary people
filling it. He wondered if it was always that empty.
“Are you keeping up, Connor?” the Flash
called back, his head slipping over his shoulder. “You can
take the official guided tour later. J’onn is expecting
us.”
“Yeah, sorry, Wally,” Green Arrow said
increasing his step. “Its just been quite a while since I been
here.”
“You should come here more often.
Thought after the tryouts you were a reserve member or something?
You have a card don’t you?” the Flash asked as the two
passed into another hallway.
“No, J’onn just gave Steel and I a
speech about how we’d always be considered for the
League.” Green Arrow rolled his shoulders.
“It’s understandable though, I’m not exactly JLA
material. It’s been a few years now and I still feel like
rookie.”
“We all feel that way man. I mean when
you’re around the pros it’s hard to feel like you are
something.” The Flash moved in a blur and within a blink of
an eye he was next to the archer, his hand on his shoulder.
“Its unhealthy to think that way. You definitely
don’t seem like the same naïve kid who took a dart from
Black Canary.”
“I’ve been through a lot,” the
archer offered.
“I’m just glad you haven’t given
up. Dinah and Batman were convinced you were going to just stay
in Nappa Valley after Kyle.”
“I thought I was too.”
There was an uncomfortable silence between the two
friends as they walked through the corridor. Ahead of them was a
plain white hatchway. It struck Green Arrow off guard how much
different it was from the rest of the place. Of course stranger
still was the spectral green Martian that suddenly floated through the
wall.
J’onn J’onzz’ mostly transparent
form solidified as his blue cape pulled free from the white paneled
wall. His green skin deepened from a pastel to the dark forest
green that highlighted the stark baldness of his scalp. His blue
boots tapped on the metal walkway as he lowered himself. His
large muscled arms folded up neatly pressing against his emerald
chest. His green torso was almost completely bare save for the
red X that crossed from the golden circles that held his cape to his
golden belt which never seemed to serve a purpose. It definitely
wasn’t used to hold the spandex shorts, which held nothing to the
imagination.
“Connor Hawke, we should make this
quick.” His featureless alien eyes snapped towards the
Flash with a sense of urgency. “Flash, thank you for
offering to maintain monitoring duty for this, I know how you hate
it.”
The Flash rolled his thin shoulders his hands waving
against the sides of his scarlet costume. “Hey it’s
no big deal, it’s only gonna be an hour at tops. But hey
Connor, you’re gonna owe me for this one big, guy.”
“I appreciate it, Wally,” Connor said
giving the speedster a broad smile.
“We should head to the laboratory, Connor
Hawke.”
Woodrue’s Lab
Woodrue stood looking at the grouping of trees in
the center of the greenhouse turned lab. The trunks were gigantic
almost five feet at the thickest part with thick veins running courses
through the deep chocolate texture of the bark. Thick roots
pushed through cracks and holes in the large ceramic pots, wiggling
like serpents on the cold black floor.
The lighting of the lab was dim, only the yellow
light of the day’s sunrays gave a sense of illumination.
With the rapid growth of all the plants sitting on shelves around the
space, it seemed not like a room on the top level of a
skyscraper. It felt instead like someone was standing in the
belly of a large forest. The smell of soil and plants seemed to
crawl through ones nostrils in a thick miasma.
Woodrue’s long fingers reached up to touch his
twig like hair. The wooden growths slid through his fingers as
his eyes stared at his creations almost in desperate thought.
“You have all done so well, maturing much faster than I ever
could have hoped,” he spoke his deep voice bouncing from the
glass ceiling in harsh waves. One of the large roots from the
ground rose up its very tip grazing the black trousers Woodrue
wore. His head craned down, a widened grin disgracing his face
like a scar. “So then it will be you, Candice,” he
said finally turning his head to one of the seemingly identical trees
on the most left of the grouping. “You think you are ready
to move from the ground?”
Candice moved one of her limbs, ever so slightly,
leaves falling from the wooden appendage and tumbling down
Woodrue’s shoulders. He stepped forward looking towards her
large twisted trunk with a gaze of appreciation. “Well good
of you to volunteer.”
Woodrue moved his left leg with a swift blur.
His foot slammed into the salmon colored pot. The bowl shattered
like glass, and maroon and black soil crumbled to the ground,
uncovering the knotted stock of roots, and the segmented stock that
looked almost like legs under the weight of the tree.
“Show us that you can walk,” Woodrue
said. The left section pulled away from the right. A large
gap spread like a crack in her wooden body. The roots came
together like a knot of worms knitting into what could be seen as
toes. The wooden leg moved forward, stepping down in a
thud. It stood there a moment, in mid stride stock and
silent. “Come on now, Candice I know it can’t be
easy.” The tree quivered, her whole form rustling and
shaking, leaves tumbling down to the floor like a shower.
Candice removed her right section, the roots rising
from the ground as its body swayed and moved itself forwards, its
second half ruggedly falling into place where its first had been.
The gap silencing as it came down in a rich thud.
Woodrue’s mouth gaped open as the tree came to
a stop. The bark began to visibly split in six or seven
places. The thick muscles that played patterns across the trunk
split apart from one another as though a large knife had sliced it in
rapid succession. Dark jets of brown grime spurted from the
gouges on her flesh sprayed the doctor’s wooden face with the
vile blood.
Candice wanted to scream. However like plants,
her very concepts of pain and stress were chemically produced. Those
chemicals were spraying from her body even as her weight came crashing
down on herself. Her body reduced to splinters all before her
simple thought of terror escaped the tips of her roots.
Woodrue watched in horror as his child capsized in a
thud. Her wooden flesh and leaves half submerged in an ever
increasing puddle of blood. The doctor turned from the sight
slowly. His long fingers reached into his green blazer fishing
out a long white handkerchief. As he wiped the tears and
grime from his face, he questioned his choice. His mind had to
know if they were ready. He should not have tried it so soon.
It was way too soon.
Laboratory 02 The Watchtower
“So, J’onn mind if I ask a
question?” Green Arrow asked, his thin form resting against the
white wall of the lab. His double quiver rested on the wall at
his feet.
The Martian Manhunter looked up from the onyx
viewfinder of the microscope he was adjusting. “What is it,
Connor Hawke?” the Manhunter asked his eyes staring into the mask
of the archer.
“Why do you call me by my full name, but call
Wally the Flash?”
J’onn let out a sigh, his head bowing back to
the viewfinder his right hand typing at a small keyboard that was
recessed in the white lab table. “Do you think it’s
about respect?” J’onn asked as he went to adjusting the
silver knobs of what looked very much like an old fashioned black
terran microscope. But this microscope had a large dish tray that
held a rainbow disc much like a CD or DVD. “I assure it is
not. It is a… more personal reason.”
He looked up from his microscope. “You
have changed much since the JLA Tryouts. The feeling I get from
you, your surface thoughts, and the fact you look so much like Oliver,
it’s a bitter pill to swallow.”
Green Arrow stood up from the wall. He took a
step forward his eyes narrowing at the Manhunter. “I am a
different man than my father! My looks, granted yeah I do look a
bit like him. But I am not…” The archer took a deep
breath, and bowed his head. “I’m sorry
J’onn…”
J’onn let a broad smile run across his
lips. “You struggle with your aggression; your father just
let it go. But it’s there, but there’s something
more. You came here with a purpose, your bitterness towards those
hurting the defenseless. This is very much like your
father. At the tryouts you were not sure what you wanted, you
were unsure of yourself as Green Arrow. But even without reading
your mind, I can tell you’re getting there.”
“I suppose we do have a few things in common
like that.”
“Oliver was a good man. He had his
faults like all of us, but before you can fill his boots you must
understand why he chose you to be Green Arrow, and not Roy Harper, or
your brother Robert Tomanga.”
“You think it’s because I’m like
him?” Arrow asked a little shocked.
“You are your own person, Connor Hawke,”
J’onn spoke. “You have qualities that you share with him,
the things that made Green Arrow, Green Arrow… a sight away from
just black and white, compassion for the downtrodden… yet
through it all always the brightest smile. But Oliver
wasn’t a monk.”
“That’s a lot to swallow.”
“You can meditate on that, but we have more
important affairs.” J’onn rose from his stool as the
far wall opened up like a lens exposing a monitor screen. It showed a
magnified image of the twig Connor had found in the alleyway.
“This is the twig you brought in, and your
instincts were right, Connor Hawke.” J’onn spoke as
he clicked a button on the keyboard and the image changed showing a
closer image of the twig. It was easy to see small gaps along its
wooden bark.
“At first glance it appears to be just some
texture on the skin of the plant, but the way they are angled and
hinged I am led to believe they are for movement.” He
clicked another button on the keyboard
The new slide showed a heavily magnified
picture. The shape looked like the twig, but the inside showed
pinkish fluid and small forms floating inside, like a human’s
blood. “This is much more interesting. I am not sure
what to make of it, but the canal of fluid seems to be populated by
what were once free moving cells.”
“So quite strange, does this tell us
anything?” Arrow asked
“These plants definitely have qualities of
reptilian and mammalian species, as though someone is creating some
sort of plant hybrid. And there are only a few people who would
try to do that and a lesser amount that could.” He paused
as he clicked another button on the keyboard and a series of faces
appeared on the screen. Blackbriar Thorn, Poison Ivy, The
Floronic Man, The Kettle Hole Devil, Mayflower, and many other he
didn’t recognize.
“However, let us cross reference that with
known whereabouts in California,” J’onn spoke and his
fingers hit yet another button. The many photos faded out one by
one showing just Dr. Jason Woodrue the Floronic Man. His photo
grew in size to take up half the screen. The right side began to
populate with text. The text gave off a short bio about his
professional career as a scientist before his work took him to a path
of the criminal life. It highlighted some of his battles with
Batman and JLA. However it was the last paragraph that put things
into perspective.
Dr. Woodrue was released from Arkham Asylum on an
arranged working parole. It was conducted by the United
States, supported supplement manufacturer Botanical Solutions in San
Francisco, California. It was agreed that his work there would
benefit Armed Service men as well as the general public with a natural
energy product. Once his work is completed he has agreed to
return to Arkham with a reduced sentence.
Green Arrow turned from the monitor his masked face
looking to J’onn. “I have heard of this guy
before.”
“He may not look like much but he is not a
push over, Connor Hawke. If this is the man guilty of the
kidnappings, it will not be an easy fight. He is more than likely
planning something large.”
“Thank you, J’onn,” Arrow said as
he shouldered his quiver. “I appreciate it.”
“If you need help, do not hesitate to contact
the JLA,” J’onn said in a tone that spread gentle warmth.
“San Francisco is my home. I’ll
handle it, J’onn,” the archer spoke grabbing his antique
bow.
“Then good luck to you… Green
Arrow.”
TO
BE CONTINED…
Next
Issue: The Floronic Man plays his hand, and shows what
he’s been working on, with only a quiver full of arrows to stop
the carnage. Be here next time for the final act of Herbology.
ARROW
MAIL:
It’s been a few months since the last issue. I hope
everyone didn’t have too much trouble remembering the story up to
this point. I’ve actually been planning this story for a
while. I wanted to push Connor forward in his life in San Francisco and
what better way than have him take on a villain that he’s way
outmatched with. Okay, what am I saying, pretty much all the guys
I’ve put Connor up against have been way more powerful than him.
Now I hope you’ve read the issue before coming down to this
section, as there was a few bits of stuff relating to the issue I
wanted to touch upon. First and foremost, I’ve kicked Eddie
out of the series! Well he’s not gone for good, or anything
it’s instead this idea I’ve had for a while. If
it’s not obvious, I’m a big fan of Eddie Fyiers, and
I’ve wanted to put him into a solo adventure showing off what
he’s capable of. However originally I wasn’t planning
on having him leave so soon, but looking over the plots he’s not
doing much the next bit so why not take this time to do it?
The actual solo story for Eddie, is going to be happening soon, but I
have yet to write it. But let me just say I’ve been
watching a lot of Burn Notice, and it has to do with Eddie’s past
when he was a Federal agent. Its going to be a lot of fun and
hope everyone reads it.
Secondly the Flash and JLA scene dates the series a bit. It might
be a bit confusing when you read it if you are also reading The Flash
and The JLA as things are a bit different in those stories than what is
happening in this series. But this series is actually a bit
further back in the timeline than those stories are. It happens
before Ed’s terrific Flash run even started and before the
restructuring of the JLA after Curt’s last issue.
So I’m sure there’s something else I’m
forgetting to mention, but if I remember it later guess I’ll
throw it on the end of the next issue.
Thanks for reading this issue and hope you’ll check out the
conclusion in about 60 days.
