Wally West's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Wally knelt on the open ground with the leaking vial cupped in his hand. The storm roared behind them. Ahead, the flat land offered no path, no marker, nothing to follow. His son dropped beside him, still gripping the dead fan. The bead of cure trembled on the cracked rim. If it fell, the settlement died. "We can't guess," Wally said. "We pick wrong, and we walk until we drop." Then the sand shifted near his boot. A line of dirt rose and crawled toward them, straight and deliberate. Wally jerked back and pulled his son close. The line stopped. A tiny shape stood on the sand, no bigger than a thumb. It grew. In one breath a man stood before them, red armor caked with grit, two thin antennae bent on his helmet. His white eyes glowed through the dust. "You're carrying the cure," the man said. He pointed at the vial, not at them. "I've been tracking the carriers for two days. You're the only one who made it this far." "Who are you?" Wally asked. "Scott Lang. The settlement sent me out to find whoever still had the dose." He crouched and studied the crack. His voice sharpened. "That won't last. One more jolt and you lose it." Wally's chest tightened. "We don't even know the way." "I do." Scott held out an armored palm. "But you won't make the walk carrying that open. Let me take it. I'll go small. I move faster close to the ground, and the sand won't crack what it can't reach." Wally stared at the stranger's hand. Two days of clawing through heat and storm, and now a man he'd met one minute ago wanted the vial. His son looked up at him, waiting. "Dad," the boy said. "He found us. Nobody else did." Wally looked at the trembling drop. His hand shook from exhaustion. One stumble on the flat would spill it. Scott's small frame would never jolt it. He pressed his lips together and tipped the vial into Scott's cupped glove. "Half a dose," Wally said. "That's all that's left. Don't lose a drop." Scott sealed the vial against his chestplate. "Follow my trail. I'll clear a line through the dust for your feet." He shrank. The man became a red speck, and a thin groove opened in the sand ahead, running toward a low ridge Wally hadn't seen. They walked. The groove led them over the ridge, and there sat a cluster of huts, roofs sagging under heat. A crowd gathered at the nearest door. Scott grew back to full size on the step and raised the vial high. "The cure is here," he called. Wally reached the door and stopped. He'd delivered it. But Scott turned to him, face grim. "Half a dose," Scott said. "We've got forty people inside. Someone has to choose who gets it."