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#10
AUG 14 |
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“Freeze Out”
Bart Allen looked around his hotel room. He’d just finished packing what he wanted to take with him. Vegas had been fun, but it had gotten boring and it was time to leave. He turned to look out his window one last time to look at the Vegas strip. Maybe next he'd go somewhere a little bit cooler.
“I'll be back, someday, Vegas. No one can beat your all you can eat buffet. Some people look at it like a bargain. I look at it as a personal challenge. That’s weird,” he said as he saw frost had formed on his window. He reached out and ran his fingertips over the icy surface. “I thought deserts were supposed to be hot. Is this one defective? Maybe someone forgot to pay the heating bill.”
Bart flew backward as the window exploded inward. He tried to dodge, but flying glass still sliced cuts into him. He slammed into the wall across the room and pushed his hair out of his face. “I am not paying for that.”
As he stared at the broken window a man in blue with a long white fur cloak rode a slide of ice into the room. The man raised a gun that Bart recognized instantly. The man smirked as he aimed Captain Cold’s freeze gun at him. “So you’re the one that the boss has been worried about. You don’t look so tough to me.”
“Who are you?” Bart asked.
"I am–"
"Who are you?"
"I am–"
"Who are you!?"
“Name’s Chillblaine!” the villain finally said after a momentary pause to make sure Bart was finished. “Not that it’s going to matter to you anymore.” Chillblaine pulled the trigger and a stream of ice shot out of the gun.
Jack Ryder grunted as he pulled himself onto the window ledge. Why couldn’t the kid have had the common decency to have a room on the ground floor? Bad enough he had to break into this room in the middle of the night. At least he shouldn’t have to climb a ladder to do it. Some people were just so inconsiderate.
Ryder pulled a glass cutter out of his pocket and situated himself on the ledge. He carefully carved a hole through the window before reaching through to unlock the window. Ryder opened the window and climbed in.
He turned on a small flashlight and looked around. The room had been untouched since these mysterious DEO agents had left. Broken glass and blood was everywhere. He frowned. What had happened here? It looked like a typical Lohan family reunion.
He picked up a picture from a trash can. It had been torn apart, but he quickly reassembled it. He stepped back to study his handiwork. The photo showed two young men – he’d learned the roommates’ names had been Bart Allen and Cody Wyatt – in formal dress at a dance somewhere. “Well, well, well,” Jack said as a smile crossed his face. “What have we here?” He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and quickly put the photo’s pieces into it. Jack turned and continued searching the room for anything interesting he could use.
"I know what'll cheer you up," said Grover's younger brother Bastian as he walked into Grover's new office with a pink box. "Ice cream cake!"
"Shouldn't you be in school?" asked Grover as he looked up from his desk.
"I cut class," replied Bastian as he sat the box down. "It was only English. When is I ever going to need that?"
"I'm not hungry," said Grover as Bastian gasped.
"Nobody can turn down ice cream cake! It has cookie dough in it!" replied the younger man.
"I have a lot of work to do, Dad's put in charge of the New York office, and I need to…"
Bastian started rifling through the papers. "Boring! Come on, let's go have some fun! We haven't hung out since I was 12."
"So?"
"I'm 17," replied Bastian.
"Just...go home," said Grover as he started reorganizing his papers.
Bastian grabbed the ice cream cake. "Fine, but you passed up perfectly good frozen confection," replied Bastian as he walked out the door. "I know what Grover needs...a surprise party!"
"I heard that!" shouted Grover from inside his office.
"Gotta work on my indoor voice when I get outside," said Bastian as he skipped off.
Back in Vegas, Bart dove to the side as ice slammed through the wall, narrowly avoiding skewering the drunken couple who were staggering down the hallway. Chillblaine smirked. “So you’re going to make this a challenge,” he said. Bart tried to run and only skidded. He looked down to discover that the carpet was frozen solid beneath his feet. Chillblaine’s grin grew wider. “Bye bye, hero,” he said as his finger tightened on the trigger again.
Bart grabbed a nearby lamp and swung it like a baseball bat, knocking the gun off target and sending ice through another wall in the room. “I hope you’re happy,” Bart said as he scrambled through the splintered drywall to the hall beyond. “I’m not getting my damage deposit back now. I probably wasn't going to, anyway. Never invite Axel Rose into your hotel room. That's something I had to learn the hard way.”
“That’s the least of your worries,” Chillblaine said as he fired icy missiles that thudded into the far wall above Bart’s head. "I'd worry more about your funeral arrangements."
Bart pressed the stud on his ring and quickly changed into his Impulse costume. “Whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” he muttered. “Are they having some sort of supervillain convention in town or something?” Impulse glanced around as a wall of ice shattered what remained of his room’s hallway wall. He was off and running before Chillblaine could step into the hallway.
Chillblaine stepped into the hall and looked around, never lowering his cold gun. “Come out, Bart,” he muttered. “Where are you?” A fist to his jaw answered that question. As he flew backward, he made sure to hang on to the gun. He fired icy blasts at Impulse, who easily dodged them. He landed and fired another blast at the carpet, spreading an icy sheet down the hall.
“That doesn’t work twice,” Impulse said. He jumped up just before the ice reached his feet and started running along the wall. Chillblaine’s eyes went wide and he tried to re-aim the gun only for Impulse to dive off the wall and tackle him down.
Chillblaine’s face twisted with rage as he fought to target Impulse with his cold gun. “Let’s have a little talk,” Impulse said as he fought to hold Chillblaine down. “What are you doing here? Why are you doing this? Where does Charlie Sheen get his tiger blood?”
Chillblaine managed to use his left hand to reach up and press a hidden stud on his wristband. He grinned. “You’re about to find out,” he said. "Well, except for that tiger blood thing. That's just dumb."
"You're dumb," said Impulse as a wind tore down the corridor. Impulse let out a cry as fingers grabbed his hair and started dragging him down the hall. Impulse yelled as the hands whipped him around and sent him crashing through a door into an empty room.
Impulse slowly turned around, already feeling his injuries healing. He was greeted by laughter. “Inertia,” Impulse growled.
Inertia smiled an evil smile. “You had to know it,” he said. He started running backward as Impulse jumped to his feet and charged him. The two exchanged blows until Inertia was finally able to maneuver Impulse in front of Chillblaine, who froze Impulse’s boots together with his cold gun. Impulse fell to the ground and his chin cracked against the floor.
“Feel free to kiss my feet while you’re down there,” Inertia taunted. Impulse’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he reached down and rubbed at the ice until it began to melt. "Shouldn't have stayed in Vegas so long, cousin, you've made these attacks increasingly easy."
Impulse slowly regained his feet. “That’s it,” he said. “I’ve had a bad week and I’ve had enough of your sick little games,” he said.
“That’s right,” Inertia said. “Your little boyfriend wound up trying to kill you, didn’t he?” Inertia laughed. “I watched the whole thing. I even had Craydl record it. My favorite part’s watching you get all teary eyed when they’re tossing him into the back of that DEO van. Who knew that when I tossed Jericho's soul into the time stream that he'd end up taking over the body of the person you loved?” Inertia and Chillblaine shared a laugh, and then Inertia returned his attention to the furious Impulse. “Oh, wait, I did. But, seriously? Trying to kill and replace you? That’s my gimmick.”
“You’re going too far this time,” Impulse warned.
“I don’t think I’ve gone far enough,” Inertia said with a nod. Impulse yelled as a blade carved into his back. He reached back to feel and drew back a hand covered in blood.
“More of you?” Impulse asked. “Doesn’t matter, I’m already healing.” He turned to see a woman in the late Golden Glider’s costume. She struck a pose with blood still caking the blade of her left skate. Another nod from Inertia prompted her to remove her mask.
“No,” Impulse whispered. Carol Bucklen stood before him with a sinister look on her face.
“Kill him, Carol,” Inertia ordered. Impulse could only stare as Inertia’s mocking laughter filled the air.
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Next Issue: In Impulse #11: Bart finds himself forced to fight Carol to save his life! How can things get worse? The rest of Inertia’s men arrive! But Impulse has some unexpected help…
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