Post by David on Apr 15, 2008 21:02:27 GMT -5
PROLOGUE
Cameron Mahkent was in big trouble. He had two members of the JSA on his tail, and they were gaining fast. Generating a sled of ice from the arctic blasts coming from his hands, he surfed that undulating, icy wave through the twisting canyons of the New York City streets, looking behind him only to shoot shards of razor-sharp ice at his pursuers. But still Jade and the Ray came on, corkscrewing out of the way of the freezing darts, but withholding their own fire--- presumably, Cameron thought--- as to not injure innocent bystanders.
He wasn’t going to be that lucky for much longer. Both Jade and the Ray were much faster than he, and within seconds, they were going to catch up to him. He would feel the concentrated light blasts of the Ray, or be enveloped by the green glowing force of Jade’s power-pulse…
He was starting to think this whole thing wasn’t such a good idea. Abandoned before birth by the father whose experiments in cryogenics had made him a freak, Cameron had long nursed a chip on his shoulder, and a grudge against the so-called heroes his father was obsessed with beating. When he had been contacted by the Wizard for this revenge caper, he had been all-too willing to come onboard, bringing Artemis with him, but now he realized, he really hadn’t thought it through: these guys were tough, better trained, and--- Cameron was loathed too admit--- he just couldn’t bring himself to fight to kill! And he so could have! He had had Hawkman in his sights, and instead of piercing the JSA chairmen with a dozen ice-barbs, what did he do? He encased him a block of ice from which he knew the hero could be easily rescued!
All he wanted to do now was find Artemis and go into hiding. She was close by, he knew, just across the river, in the small abandoned utility cabin overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge, where they had all agreed to re-group after the attack. The trick was doing it without leading Jade and the Ray right to her…
The door to the abandoned concrete cabin suddenly glowed bright blue, icing over, and the ambient temperature of the room dropped precipitously. Wildcat and Tigress ducked as the door exploded inward, blowing brittle bits of wood and fiberglass over them.
“C’mon, lover, it’s time to---.” Icicle bounded into the room, but clapped his mouth shut at the sight of Wildcat, free and grinning at him. He turned a quizzical look on his girlfriend, who was dusting woodchips off her tiger-stripped spandex. “You let him go?”
“Cam, listen to me for a minute---.”
But Tigress was cut off by the far wall of the cabin exploding, and this time, all three of them were knocked backward with the force of it, pulverized stone-dust falling everywhere. In the gaping hole, beyond which could be seen the Jersey shore, was a very angry-looking Ray, his hands still aglow with white-hot light. There were patches of frost clinging to parts of his jacket and helmet, and he shivered a little.
“Alright Mr. Cold-Miser, there are parts of me that still aren’t thawed out yet, and that makes Mr. Heat-Miser very angry! How about a little hot-foot for---.”
“Ray, take a corner!” Wildcat barked, halting his impetuous teammate in his tracks.
Ray did a double-take, surprised to find the older hero here, but lowered his fiercely glowing hands. Jade swooped down out of the sky, and walked into the cabin, brushing off the rime that still clung to her.
Icicle was looking back and forth between Wildcat and Tigress with suspicion, while keeping a wary eye on the steaming Ray. “Tigress, what’s going on here?”
“That’s what I want to know.” Jade added, to Ray’s confused shrug.
Artemis Crock went to the only person in the world she gave a damn about, and said: “Cam, I… I think we made a mistake. This isn’t what we want for each other, is it? Wildcat is offering a deal, and I think we should take it.”
Icicle just stared at her, taken aback. His eyes searched her, wondering, perhaps, if she was being coerced.
But it was the Ray who spoke next. “Whoa, wait a minute here; a deal?” he said to Wildcat. “Aren’t we supposed to fight the bad guys?”
“These aren’t the bad guys, Ray,” Wildcat shot back, in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. “These are a couple of confused kids. Remind you of anyone else?”
At the pointed reminder of the Infinitors’ own history, Ray could only lapse into a fuming silence.
“Artemis, are you sure about this?” The look on Icicle’s face was one of deep suspicion.
Tigress gave him a lopsided, rueful smile. “No. But we don’t have a lot of choices, either. And there are some… other factors involved, but I’ll tell you about it later.”
Icicle chewed the thought for a long moment, glancing over her shoulder at the three waiting JSAers. Then, at last, looking like he had bitten into something sour, he asked: “What do we have to do?”
“Well, for starters, I think we need to tell them about Ragdoll and help them rescue the Tylers…”
At the same time, Wildcat, Jade and the Ray said: “What?!?”
JSA Roll Call!
Hawkman (Carter Hall): Reincarnated champion of justice, this Winged Avenger is master of Thanagarian Nth Metal and his own destiny!
Captain Marvel (Billy Batson):With one magic word, the World’s Mightiest Mortal battles the enemies of man with the power of Shazam!
Green Lantern (Alan Scott): Dark things cannot stand the light of the original Emerald Gladiator!
Bulleteer (Deanna Barr): Daughter of Golden Age heroes Bulletman and Bulletgirl, thanks to her father’s experiments she can transform her body into an indestructible, gravity-defying Nth Metal alloy!
Flash (Jay Garrick): The emotional core of the team, this original super-speedster is proud to mentor the next generation of heroes!
Atomika (Jo Morgan): Daughter of the original Atom, this Mighty Maid packs a nuclear wallop!
Wildcat (Ted Grant): The champ with nine lives, always ready to deliver the knockout punch to crime!
Jade (Jennie-Lynn Scott): Daughter of Alan Scott, she has internalized the power of the Green Flame, and just may be one of the most powerful beings in the universe!
Obsidian (Todd Scott): Son of Alan Scott, he controls the dark flipside of the Starheart, the Shadowlands, the quintessence of terror!
Sandman (Wesley Dodds): Donning a gas mask and a fedora, this haunted dreamer delivers the sleep of the just to wrongdoers!
Cyclone (Jesse Chambers): Daughter of Golden Age heroes Liberty Belle and Jesse Quick, when she speaks the formula 3X2(9YZ)4A, she becomes the fastest woman alive!
Ray (Ray Terrill): Son of the Golden Age Ray, this brash young hero dazzles with the power of pure light and his razor-sharp wit!
Starman (David Knight): Son of the Golden Age Starman, the newest wielder of the Cosmic Rod inherits a proud legacy of heroism and sacrifice!
Injustice Society Roll Call!
Wizard (William I. Zard): Master of illusion and deception, this ruthless magician will do anything to fulfill his ambition to destroy the JSA!
Black Adam (Teth-Adam): Renegade former champion of Shazam, he’ll do anything to claim all the power of wizard for himself!
Solomon Grundy (Cyrus Gold): Undead and immortal, this hulking zombie crawled from Slaughter Swamp to plague the JSA from their earliest days!
Gentleman Ghost (Jim Craddock): Menace from beyond the grave, and Golden Age foe of Hawkman!
Icicle (Cameron Mahkent): Son of the original Golden Age villain, he needs no ice-gun to shoot freezing blasts or send the temperature plummeting!
Tigress (Artemis Crock): Daughter of an illicit affair between Wildcat and the Golden Age villainess the Huntress, she is a master of exotic weaponry and a dozen fighting styles!
Fiddler (Isaac Bowen): Bitter old villain who can hypnotize foes with his violin, or use it to shoot sonic blasts!
Ragdoll (Simon Merkel): Like his father, the Golden Age villain of the same name, he is a master contortionist and a homicidal maniac!
Shade (Richard Swift): Mysterious immortal that can control and manipulate shadows, he lives for his jousts with the JSA!
“At last,” crowed the Wizard, holding the glittering gold helmet over his head, friends and foes alike looking on, aghast. “The Helm of Nabu is mine!” There was a look of such fierce exultation on his pinched, angular face, that even the undead Gentleman Ghost hovering at his elbow was transfixed.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Black Adam had Green Lantern dangling limp in one hand, Hawkman in another. Flash and Cyclone still hadn’t picked themselves up from the wreckage on the floor, and Captain Marvel was looking back and forth between Adam and the Wizard, as if the wisdom of Solomon was at war with his instinct. Both Sandman and Bulleteer were down, groaning in pain, and Starman, commissioned on the field of battle as the newest member of the JSA, could only gape, like Captain Marvel, unsure which villain was the greatest threat.
The moment’s stalemate was broken by Atomika, crashing bodily through a wall and headlong into Black Adam! The force of her impact slammed him forward, causing him to release Green Lantern and Hawkman, the momentum carrying him within reach of Captain Marvel’s all-too ready fists: Cap reared back and drove his knuckles into Adam’s face, whipping the villain around violently, and back towards Jo! She came up with an atomic-powered two-fisted hammer-blow that rocked Black Adam to his knees. Barely able to comprehend what hit him, Adam swooned.
“Don’t let him get back up,” Hawkman yelled as pandemonium broke out anew. The Winged Avenger was crawling to his feet towards them, dragging his spiked ball-and-chain flail with him. That was all Jo and Cap needed. They dogpiled on Black Adam, the blows raining incessantly.
The Wizard had not hesitated. He doffed his top-hat with one hand and hurled it at Starman, who aimed a blast of cosmic rays at him. As the hat flew through the air, it expanded, swallowing not only the blast, but engulfing Starman, as well! A shapeless black mass fell to the rubble-strewn floor of the JSA Museum’s Hall of Magical Artifacts, squirming with a life swiftly being snuffed out! Closest to him, Sandman scrambled towards the panicked neophyte hero just as Obsidian flowed into the room, a living shadow with brightly glowing eyes. “I’ve got him!”
The Wizard regarded the chaos around him, and a deep, rich laugh escaped him. With a grand gesture, he donned the Helm of Nabu, and his laughter became amplified, reverberating in the halls of the JSA’s headquarters.
<We will meet again, my old enemies, and when we do, I will have everything I need to defeat you once and for all!> And with that, the Wizard conjured a swirling miasma of light, and stepped into it, the portal closing at his heels.
David Knight panicked.
Seconds ago, the gaping maw of the Wizard’s hat enveloped him, and all light and air in the world was swallowed with him. He flailed about, blind and choking, his Cosmic Rod useless in the mystic murk that was killing him. Great, he thought in a voice that sounded suspiciously like his brother Jack’s, my first day on the job and I buy it from a clown in a top-hat. Maybe Dad was right; maybe I have no business being Starman. Well, at least I got to be in the JSA, for like a minute…
“Relax,” A calm voice broke through his panic. “I’ve got you.”
There were hands on him, pulling him up and away from the darkness. David clung to that voice, and now those arms, and slowly, light and air returned to the world. He sucked in a deep lungful, and Obsidian finished pulling him from the shadowstuff. He pulled his fin-topped face-mask down, shaking out his sweat-slicked brown hair, and gasped a thanks to his new teammate. Obsidian smiled--- a disconcerting expression in his mask.
The fight seemed to be over; dust and debris was settling all around and the heroes took stock of the situation. The Wizard had vanished, the Gentleman Ghost with him, and Black Adam knelt in submission at the feet of Captain Marvel, Atomika nearby rubbing her aching knuckles.
A pitiful groan came from Bulleteer on the floor; she was in her flesh and blood form, her arm wrenched out of its socket and broken in a number of places. The Flash and Green Lantern were by her side instantly, the latter conjuring a glowing green cushion beneath her as the former cradled her arm and spoke words of comfort. The heroine looked up at the speedster, biting her lower lip to keep it from quivering. “I tried to stop him,” she moaned. “I know I shouldn’t have gone in alone, I just wanted to stop him.”
“It’s alright, Deanna,” said Jay, stroking her hair, and looking to a grim-faced Alan Scott. The two were thinking the same thing: this was their fault. It was too soon for the junior members to be in the field.
“We’re going to need a doctor here,” Jay called out, his voice steady.
David Knight looked over at the prone form of Deanna Barr and felt his heart go out: this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, right? She was hurt, and hurt bad. Where was the fun, the camaraderie, the glory…? All he could think about was he wanted to help her, but had no idea what to do.
Everyone else’s attention was on Black Adam. The powerhouse villain knelt, his hands wrenched behind his back by Captain Marvel, but he held up his bruised, haughty face, his chin jutting forward. Hawkman stepped before him, letting the spiked ball of his flail fall to the floor with a demonstratively loud crunch.
“I’m only going to ask this once, Khem-Adam,” rasped the JSA’s chairman. “Where did Zard and Craddock go?”
Black Adam’s nostril’s flared and his upper lip twisted. “You don’t command me anymore, Khufu. Those days are long past. Black Adam answers to no one.”
“You answered to the Wizard and his damn fool Injustice Society,”
“We simply shared a common goal for a time,” Black Adam snorted. “I was promised an opportunity to humiliate Captain Marvel, and to capture the power of the wizard all for myself. And one day I will do it, too.”
“Not today,” Captain Marvel bore down on his prisoner, restraining him more tightly.
“Carter, can we worry about this later, Bulleteer is hurt---.”
“Where is he, Adam?” Hawkman loomed over his prisoner, his tone imperious, the ball and chain lifting off the floor. “Tell me or so help me I’ll have Atomika use your face as---.”
“Damnit, Carter, I said we need a doctor!”
Hawkman whirled, indignant, on Jay. The Flash glared back at his old friend, holding their injured teammate in his arms. Deanna was gritting her teeth through the pain, and the anger seemed to drain out of Carter Hall all at once.
He took off his mask, compassion in his eyes. “You’re going to be fine, Deanna.” He gave her a reassuring smile, then turned. “Cyclone, go find Charles McNider. He was in the guest of honor box outside before we evacuated the street,” he commanded, and the speedster was gone almost immediately. “Alan, can you get her to the hospital wing? Doc may need your help setting the bones.”
“Of course,” Green Lantern hovered off the floor, and with the cushion tethered to his emerald ring, he drifted off for the JSA’s fully-functional, state of the art Medical Bay, three levels below.
“Umm,” Obsidian cleared his throat awkwardly. “What are we going to do with him?” He nodded towards Black Adam.
Black Adam returned their attention with a smirk.
“He isn’t going to tell us anything. Take him to the Rock, Cap. Let him be Shazam’s problem.” The steel returned to Hawkman’s voice. Captain Marvel nodded tightly, and hauled the beaten villain to his feet. As he led Black Adam away, the villain allowed his gaze to fall and linger on Atomika, as if marking her for future retribution.
After the two were gone, and after an involuntary shiver, she turned to the others and asked: “What about Wildcat? He didn’t show up today… I’m worried about him…”
Carter turned back to Flash. “Jay?”
“Be right back,” said the silver-topped speedster, and he was off in a blur.
“That is so cool,” David Knight shook his head in admiration.
“Wait,” was all Obsidian said in reply.
A heartbeat later, the Flash was skidding to a halt in front of Hawkman, looking grim.
“His apartment in Gotham is empty, and there’s blood on the floor of his gym.” He reported. “No sign of him anywhere.”
Carter swore under his breath, even as Jo gasped, holding her hand to her mouth.
“Ted Grant can handle himself,” Carter told them. “If he’s been taken, I’m more concerned for his captors. First things first: we need to find Zard. Wes, you’ve been awful quiet: any ideas?”
The Sandman looked up from his contemplation of a shattered exhibit case, stood and held up an engraved brass placard.
{Just one,} came his voice, eerily distorted by his gasmask. {The attack was a ploy, a distraction to cover the Wizard’s theft. He knew just what he wanted, and knew he needed a ghost to get past the mystical wards set upon it.}
“The Helm of Nabu,” Carter frowned. “Why is it here, anyway? I mean, doesn’t Kent need it?”
{Dr. Fate gave up wearing the Helm many years ago,} Sandman explained. {Kent found himself becoming overwhelmed by the Lord of Order that dwelt within, and instead took to wearing a half-helm he fashioned himself, called the Helmet of Fate.}
“I’d been meaning to ask him about that,” Jay Garrick snapped his fingers, thinking back to that final battle with Degaton and their rescue of the Infinitors [Editors Note: See All-Star Comics Annual #1].
{But the Helm of Nabu is only one of the three Artifacts of Fate,} Sandman went on. {With the Helm of Nabu, the most powerful of the three, the Wizard may challenge Dr. Fate for the other two: the Amulet of Anubis and the Cloak of Nergal. With such powerful magical artifacts in his hands…}
“I’d rather not think about what Zard would do with that much power,” Hawkman finished the thought. “But that means we know where to find him, then. He can only be headed to one place…”
“Salem,” A familiar, though long-unheard voice said. “Fate’s Tower.”
A man with rust-red hair and casual clothes many generations out of style picked his way over the debris of battle to join the JSA. He did not appear to be very old, but there seemed to be the weight of many years on his shoulders, and a deep sorrow bought with the experience of humanity at its worst.
“Jim…? Jim, is that you?” Flash’s voice was tentative, amazed. Any other old friend, and Jay Garrick would have already been embracing him, thumping him companionably on the back, but this man… This man was different.
The man who had been Jim Corrigan, New York City policeman slain in the line of duty in 1938, regarded them all with a pained grimace. “Hiya, fellas. And lady,” He nodded at Atomika. “You didn’t think I would miss JSA Day, did ya?”
“Glad to have you back, Corrigan,” Carter said, after the pleasantries and introductions had been concluded. “But where have you been? We could have used the Spectre a few minutes ago.”
“I’ve been, well, asleep is the best way to put it.” Corrigan told them, looking almost sheepish. “After the HUAC hearings in ’51, I refused to call upon the Spirit of Vengeance again. I fought the good fight, and I felt I had earned my rest; I thought my days of walking the Earth were done.” If possible, Corrigan’s smile grew more morose. “Well, maybe my work was done, but the Spectre’s wasn’t. He was called to face a cosmic threat, and it nearly undid him [Editor’s Note: See Wonder Woman # 8]. Afterward, he… vanished.”
{What do you mean?} Sandman asked, crossing his arms. {Did he go to sleep, too?}
“Not exactly.” Corrigan scratched his chin stubble. “Vengeance never rests, or at least it isn’t supposed to. After I ‘retired’, the Spectre found itself without a host. That connection is its anchor to humanity. Without it, the spirit is weakened, and can be hurt--- destroyed, even. Nor is there anything holding it to this plane of existence.”
Hawkman shook his head in disbelief. “Are you telling us you lost the Spectre…?”
Jim Corrigan lowered his head.
Hawkman rolled his eyes and groaned. “We don’t have time for this; we’ve got to warn Kent and Inza.”
“Carter,” Corrigan said, catching Hawkman by the upper arm before the chairmen could turn away. “I may not be bonded to the Spectre, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful. A small measure of power has been granted to me.”
“Can you get us to Fate’s Tower in a hurry?”
Corrigan nodded, but his eyes were troubled. “I can, but we’ll need to be very careful: I sense something very wrong coming from the Tower, something that has nothing to do with Zard, or his new Injustice Society.”
{Heed him, old friend,} Sandman spoke up. {I dreamt of Fate last night. He was crying out to us, as if from a great distance… }
“All the more reason for us to hurry,” Hawkman said with a grim set to his jaw. He beckoned Sandman, Atomika, Obsidian, Flash, and Starman to come closer. “Alright, Jim: do your hocus pocus, and let’s teach Zard and his cronies what happens when you come after the Justice Society of America…”
They appeared on a grassy knoll overlooking Salem, and were greeted by a horrific sight: though it was still early morning, thick black clouds roiled overhead, blotting out the sun and turning day into night. Before them was Fate’s Tower, and it seemed to be the center of the meteorological disturbance: billows of smoke issued from the crenelated top of the Tower, as if it were a chimney. And that wasn’t all: usually the Tower had no windows or doors, but now there was a gaping hole in one side, like a mystic wound, which sparked and shimmered.
“Hell of a first day on the job, huh?” Obsidian said to the appalled expression on Starman’s face.
The new hero could only swallow heavily and nod, as overhead, thunder rumbled. Down below, in the town, distant sirens wailed and car alarms went off. The air was pregnant with chaos.
“Look, there!” The sharp-eyed Atomika pointed down towards Salem, and all eyes followed. There was a frantic uproar of activity near the center of the quaint downtown shopping district, and on the rising wind there came the sounds of a maniacal laughter.
“We’re too late,” Corrigan gnashed his teeth. “Zard has all of the artifacts!”
Without a word, the Flash took off, disappearing into the Tower. The original Scarlet Speedster had been to the place many times, but not for many years: at the best of times, the interior of Fate’s Tower was a confusing jumble of corridors and chambers which defied the laws of physics and geometry. Now, with a hideous arcane wound in it, time and space within were horribly disjointed. Nonetheless, Jay Garrick braved the shifting non-Euclidean planes, and unstable Escher-esque architecture, searching in vain for the two occupants of the Tower, calling their names as he ran.
All that greeted him were echoes of his own voice, and a feeling of dreadful foreboding.
“Kent and Inza are not in there.” Jay reported, as he rejoined his teammates outside the Tower. “Zard must have taken them by surprise.”
{I don’t think so,} said the Sandman. {I think the Wizard found an abandoned and defenseless Tower. Jim is right: something else is going on here.}
“Well we can’t worry about it now,” Hawkman spread his wings and leaped into the air. “Let’s finish this before Zard does any more damage!”
The Wizard stood in the midst of a mystical maelstrom in the center of town. The Cloak of Nergal snapped and whipped around him, the Helm of Nabu glimmered on his head, his eyes glowing through the narrow eyeslits, and on his breast he wore the fabled Amulet of Anubis. It had been so easy to claim the Artifacts. A simple spell had torn a hole in the side of the Tower, and though he had been prepared for a showdown with Dr. Fate, the mystic was nowhere to be seen. He and Craddock had just walked in, and there they were, the Artifacts, theirs for the taking! He destroyed the much inferior Helmet of Fate, almost as an afterthought, clad himself in the Cloak and Amulet, and--- suffused with power--- went out into town to test his limits.
Gliding down Chestnut Street, he hurled thunderbolts of power in arbitrary directions, blowing-up cars, incinerating centuries-old buildings and killing bystanders with as much thought as he gave to dusting snow off his coat. Craddock floated at his side, all that was left of his new Injustice Society. No matter. He didn’t need any of them anymore. He was strong enough now to take on the JSA by himself.
The Salem Police had taken up position and were taking shots at him, which he deflected with negligently conjured ankh-shaped shields.
“Is there a purpose to all of this random mayhem?” The Gentlemen Ghost intoned, sounding bored. “When do we get to kill the JSA and their ilk?”
<Soon, Craddock,> the Wizard levitated a fire-engine and sent it careening sideways into City Hall. <First, I want to try something.>
Do not, a strange, but authoritarian voice sounded in Zard’s mind. You’ve never been anything but a petty trickster, Zard. You are meddling here with forces that surpass your understanding.
<Be silent!> the Wizard hissed aloud, and the Gentleman Ghost’s bodiless hat and monocle turned towards him quizzically. <The Artifacts of Fate are mine to control. Mine!> And with that, he spoke words that came instinctively to him now, words to raise the dead.
In the Salem Cemetery across town, earth erupted outward, and rotting flesh clawed its way to the surface.
In minutes, hundreds of grundies were shambling through the streets of Salem, bound to the will of the Wizard!
47:01, 47:00. 46:59…
The emergency responders had arrived, and Rick Tyler walked beside the gurney with his mother as they wheeled his father out the front door of their house, and towards the ambulance.
“Damn it, let me up, I feel fine!” Rex Tyler protested, though the effort of trying to rise caused him to cough. His windpipe had been badly bruised by his near hanging by Ragdoll, but the former mystery man had walked away from much worse in his day.
“Rex, please, just let the doctors take a look at you---.”
As his parents bickered, Rick Tyler found it hard to concentrate. The Miraclo that was coursing through his bloodstream made him pulse with the need for action… He wanted to run, to jump, to hit something…! He had never before felt so charged with life. He bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to keep still. The police were leading the still-groggy Ragdoll out of the house now, cuffed and weakened by the beating Rick had given him. A smile crossed the young man’s face. That was fun. Let’s do that again…
From out of the sky, came a group of heroes from the JSA. Rick recognized Jade and the Ray, and in a green bubble towed by Jade were Wildcat and two others Rick did not know.
“Wildcat!” Rex Tyler called out to his old friend as the group landed close by, and Jade’s protective bubble dissolved. Rex pushed past the EMS techs and climbed off the stretcher, ignoring his wife’s protests, and clasped hands with a grinning Wildcat.
“Tigress and Icicle here just clued us into a plan by a new Injustice Society to take us all out.” Wildcat thumbed over his shoulder towards the indicated pair. “We’re here to rescue you from Ragdoll.”
“Then you’re too late.” Rex Tyler’s chest swelled with pride. “My boy Rick already took care of it.”
Wildcat gave the now-grinning Rick a measuring look, nodding his head approvingly. “Hiya doin’, kid. Still remember that right hook I taught ya?”
“You know it!” For emphasis, Rick slammed his right fist into his left palm. “And there’s more where that came from!”
Wildcat looked impressed and turned to Rex. “Miraclo?”
Rex nodded, smiling indulgently. “First time.”
Just then, one of the policemen called out to them, waving them over to his cruiser. “Hey, JSA! You guys should hear this…”
The heroes, with their Injustice Society converts, and the Tyler family crowded around the car, straining to hear the news report on the radio.
“… at this time we’re not exactly sure what’s going on in Salem, Massachusetts,” came the rattled voice of the announcer, “but it appears that a man wearing the raiment of longtime JSA member Dr. Fate has gone on a magical rampage in the old town’s historical shopping district. The streets are filled with what appear to be the walking dead, erupting from now open graves in the cemetery. I have just received an unconfirmed report that the JSA is on the scene, battling the zombies…”
“Looks like we’re headed to Salem,” Wildcat drawled, and turning to Rex, he asked, “You want in on this, buddy?”
But before Rex Tyler could even open his mouth, his wife stamped her foot and laid down the law. “You aren’t going anywhere but the hospital! Not fifteen minutes ago, I almost watched you die, and if you think I’m letting you out of my sight for an instant, you are more out of your mind than even I thought!”
Rex took one look at her determined expression and fuming face, and knew she would brook no argument.
“You heard Wendi, Ted, I’m going to sit this one out,” Rex told his friend regretfully. “But give ‘em hell for me.”
Before Wildcat could respond, Rick blurted: “I’m coming!”
All eyes turned towards him. He stared back at them, grinning broadly. His mother was already opening her mouth with an “Oh, no, not you too!” look on her face, but Rick cut her off.
“C’mon, Mom, I’m a grown man, I can make my own decisions. Suddenly, I know what Dad was talking about all these years, about fighting the good fight, taking down the bad guys. I’ve never wanted to do anything as much as I want to do that right now. Besides, from the sound of things, the JSA can use all the help they can get!”
Appalled, Wendi Tyler looked from her son to her husband, the latter of whom was having difficulty hiding his grin.
“This is his decision to make, Wendi,” Rex said in a placating tone. “And it sounds to me like he’s the man of the hour.”
At that, her eyes grew wide, and she let out a fuming groan. But she knew she had been defeated.
Rex addressed his son. “I had a new costume made a few months ago, but I’ve never worn it. It’s upstairs, and I’m pretty sure it’ll fit you.”
Rick Tyler pumped his fist in the air, then bounded back towards the house.
43:21, 43:20, 43:19…
<Rise, my grundies!> The villain threw up his hands, waving them about as if conducting an orchestra. <Rise, and destroy the Justice Society!>
The poor mindless automatons had picked up speed and energy, raving with a terrifying frenzy across the streets of Salem. The squad of JSAers had been fighting to evacuate the innocent bystanders, but were now forced to fight for their lives as mobs of slavering zombies fell on them.
Atomika lashed out, sending broken bodies scattering in all directions, but more kept coming. She screamed, pulled down under the sheer weight of them. Starman blasted away from the air, trying to clear them away from her, and was joined by the Flash, who couldn’t pull them off fast enough. Only Obsidian was having any success, his shadow form proving to terrify even the dead, and send them howling back to their graves.
Taking a more direct approach, Hawkman flew straight at the Wizard, his lip curled, swinging the wicked-looking spiked flail. So distracted by conducting his symphony of horror, the Wizard was caught off guard. Hawkman’s flail rang loudly off the Helm of Nabu, and the Wizard staggered backward, falling to the ground. Hawkman circled overhead, and narrowly avoided the first blast of mystical energy the Wizard sent scorching his way--- but not the second! It seared through his wings, lighting them on fire almost instantly. Like an archangel thrown from Heaven, Hawkman blazed out of the sky, aiming for the mouth of the Naumkeag River. He hit the water with a belch of steam.
The Gentleman Ghost laughed appreciatively.
“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you, Ghost.”
His hands in his pockets and looking as if he posed no threat to them, Jim Corrigan was walking straight towards the Wizard and the Gentleman Ghost.
<Fool! Go to hell!> the Wizard snarled and directed a two-handed blast at him.
The beams of power passed harmless through Corrigan, exploding an empty ice cream shoppe across the street.
“Wasn’t on my itinerary anytime soon, imposter.” Corrigan told him, still coming on.
<Imposter?> the Wizard took a step backward, away from the unnerving man. <I won the Artifacts of Fate fairly! They are mine! The Tower is mine!>
“Oh, really? From whom did you win them? Where was Dr. Fate when you stole his artifacts, like a thief in the night, a common burglar? Don’t you feel your control of the magicks slipping away even now?”
<Craddock, stop him!>
The Gentleman Ghost floated forward, and from out of nowhere, he leveled two antique flintlock pistols at Corrigan.
Corrigan paused, raising an eyebrow at the weapons, and the apparition before him.
“You should know better than anyone that you can’t kill a ghost---.”
The flintlocks fired in a racket of smoke--- and Corrigan doubled over, his face twisted in pain and surprise.
“I’ve been dead a lot longer than you, sir,” chortled Gentleman Jim Craddock. “I’ve learned a few tricks…”
The flintlocks roared again.
“Getoffmegetoffmegetoffmegetoffmeg…!”
Atomika thrashed wildly on the ground, the air around her charged with atomic particles that popped and sizzled, but still the grundies piled on, disintegrating under her assault, their remains smothering her, blocking out her sight.
Panic gripped her mind, driving out every lesson she learned about battle. She could only fight back with reckless abandon, hoping pure terror and brute force was enough to save her life.
Then they started falling away. Their rank, rotting faces were yanked back and she could breathe again…! A gloved fist smashed into the head of one, sending it crashing to the street next to her.
“Jeez, I can’t leave you guys alone for one day…” drawled Wildcat as he hauled her to her feet.
Relief and joy flooded through Jo and she caught him up in a tight embrace.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, ease up, kid,” Ted Grant hugged her a little awkwardly, startled by the passion of her response.
“We thought you were dead,” Jo leaped back abruptly, her cheeks flushed. “The Injustice Society ambushed us at the Parade, and we thought they---.”
“Catch me up later, but in the meantime, I brought reinforcements!”
He nodded towards the escalating battle. She, Flash, Obsidian and Starman had had their hands full dealing with the grundies, but now others had joined the fray. Jade and the Ray were a welcome sight, striking from the air, but the others were a surprise: someone dressed in the garb of Hourman was bounding ecstatically from foe to foe, hurling them bodily from the battle and delivering crushing haymakers; there was a woman in the garb of a huntress, utilizing a refined fighting style--- and a collection of fearsome weapons!--- to scatter the grundies; and was that last one the Icicle, who not long ago had been trying to kill them…?
He’s right, imposter, said the voice in the Helm. You could never master my Helm--- or the Cloak and Amulet. Surrender them now, or you shall surely go mad!
The Wizard put his hands to either side of his helmeted head, but the gesture was useless. The voice was coming from within, and could not be blocked out.
Sanity is such a fragile state, cretin, warned the voice. All it takes is a little push, and you are over the edge. You are close to the edge, William Izmodeus Zard! Lay down the Artifacts, now! The power will consume you first, and then the whole world! If you care at all for your race--- your planet!--- take off the Helm!
The Wizard let out a long, keening wail. Falling to his knees, he fought desperately to grasp back the control that was dribbling through his fingers like a handful of water. But it was too much. The mysteries overwhelmed him, fileted his brain with as much precision as a surgeon using a butcher’s knife. Madness blossomed like a chancrous flower in his consciousness.
A hysterical, breathless giggle escaped him. He straightened up, crackling with the might that had mastered him. He would drown the world in a maelstrom of magick…
The tide had been turning. The JSA, thanks to the new arrivals, had the grundies contained, and most of the innocent bystanders out of harm’s way. Hawkman crawled out of the water and onto the wharf, dragging his weapon, bedraggled but eager to get back into the fight. The ghosts of Jim Corrigan and Jim Craddock grappled with each other, evenly matched until Obsidian joined the spectral battle. Craddock fled, cursing and vowing revenge…
That’s when the madness of the Wizard was unleashed. He waded among them, gliding on astral winds and aglow with puissance. With an inarticulate howl, he jabbed his arms at the cloud-stuffed skies, and bolts of lightning sizzled from his hands. The lightning lingered a moment, illuminating the looks of shock and horror from those below--- then the clouds opened up and a storm of sorcery descended! Bat-winged creatures burst from the clouds, screeching for blood; huge cracks opened in the streets of Salem and segmented creatures with a carapace of dark magma clicked and clattered out onto the Earth, huge pincers working furiously; and from the Wizard himself came erratic blasts of lightning, scoring the ground and everything around him.
From imminent victory, a disastrous defeat now loomed. The demonbats strafed Starman, Jade and the Ray, claws and fangs gouging for eyes. On the ground, the magmamites filled the streets, leaping at anything that moved; Hourman wrestled with two at the same time, bashing one with the husk of another, as Atomika struggled to keep the pincers of another from closing around her waist. The Wizard, even in his incoherent madness, seemed to target Tigress and the Icicle, sending jagged spikes of electricity at them as fast as Icicle was able to erect ice-shields.
But they could not keep it up forever. Tigress was already down, a stray bolt escaping Icicle’s wards; she lay, unmoving, a black burn mark smoking on her chest. Wildcat yelled her name and ran to her, Atomika frantically kicking aside the magmamites that jumped at his exposed back. Harried by the demonbats, Ray crashed into the side of a church steeple, and Starman was bleeding from a dozen small wounds already. The Flash zig-zagged from place to place, pulling first Hourman, then Hawkman from the deadly pincers of the beasts… but they kept coming out from the bowels of the earth, like cockroaches flushed from a hiding place, surrounding them… And above it all was the maniacal tittering of the Wizard.
Exhausted, the Icicle slumped to the ground near Tigress, Wildcat and Atomika, his chest heaving. The Wizard loomed above them, his arms out and fingers splayed, static dancing between them. <Die, traitors!>
The lightning snaked out…
There was a red and gold streak and suddenly Captain Marvel was there, hands on his hips and his cape snapping smartly! The lightning licked his chest, to no effect, and the World’s Mightiest Mortal gave the Wizard a wide smile.
“Heh. Tickles.”
The Wizard’s laughter became higher-pitched and he made a sweeping gesture with his hands. A sudden wind arose, like a tornado, and threatened sweep all of them away. Captain Marvel dug in, shielding the others with his body.
Green Lantern had arrived as well, joining Jade in the air, and together the two wielders of the Green Flame swept the sky with power-ring-generated nets, clearing out the demonbats. On the ground, Cyclone hit the magmamites from behind, scattering them like bowling pins. She managed to pull Hourman from the clutches of one just as the razor-sharp pincers had been about to snap off his head!
“You saved my life!” the newly-minted hero regarded her with slack-jawed awe after she set him down in a clear patch of street.
“Return the favor someday, handsome.” She chucked him under the chin, and with a dazzling smile she left behind a smitten Rick Tyler.
Nearly all the JSA were assembled on the field before the Wizard--- and he threw everything he had at them! Hawkman yelled encouragement to them as he charged the Wizard, his flail bouncing off a hastily conjured shield. Captain Marvel trudged forward into the teeth of a tightly focused gale force the Wizard poured at him with one hand, while the other hand sent blasts to keep the rest of the JSA at bay.
So it was that the Wizard never saw the most dangerous threat creeping up on him, calmly, patiently, ineluctably. With the Artifacts of Fate, Zard was invulnerable to just about any physical or arcane attack. He could take the worst punishment the JSA could dish out, and remain inviolate. But, like Dr. Fate, he was vulnerable to one subtle peril: a gas attack.
The noxious green cloud enveloped Zard, its gaseous tendrils wending their way up underneath the helm, and through the eyeslits… The supervillain gagged on it, inhaling a specially mixed higher concentration. His feet touched the ground, and he staggered, choking. The magickal chaos ceased suddenly, their orchestrator gasping for breath.
Behind him stood the Sandman, his gas gun still trailing wisps of smoke.
{William Zard, I shudder to contemplate the dreams that await your unquiet slumber…}
And with a last gurgling groan, the Wizard collapsed.
With the defeat of the Wizard, the cloud-cover over Salem dispersed and a bright morning sun shone down upon the ravaged town. The chaos creatures summoned by the power of Fate fled, the demonbats into the aether, and the magmamites into the gaping holes in the ground--- the grundies simply fell to pieces where they stood, leaving the grisly task of the survivors to return the remains to the graves.
The JSA stayed to help with the clean-up. Green Lantern and Jade led the effort, working tirelessly with the power of the Starheart to close-up the cracks in the ground, clear away rubble from the Wizard’s destructive rampage, and put out any lingering fires. Using the last remaining minutes of his Hour of Power, Rick Tyler rescued a fireman from the collapsed timbers of a building, Starman helped move destroyed vehicles from the streets, Captain Marvel righted a building that was threatening to collapse, and even the Icicle helped, freezing the gushing water from severed main-lines--- though not until EMS techs had assured him Tigress would be alright.
“Not bad for a newbie,” Cyclone commented, skidding to a halt in front of Hourman as he paused for a breather. The effects of the Miraclo were quickly wearing off, leaving him more tired than he could ever remember being. But the sight of Jesse Chambers leaning casually against a lamp post perked him up again. He gave her a big, bluff smile.
“You’d be surprised by the things I can do during my Hour of Power,”
“Only an hour, huh?” She raised an eyebrow suggestively. “I think you can do better, big boy…”
And before he could think of a suitable reply, she was off, helping a group of nurses carrying people to the hospital. Rick decided that’s where his strengths could be best utilized, as well.
“Just what in the hell happened here?” Hawkman frowned as he searched around the shattered foyer of Fate’s Tower. With him were the Flash, Sandman, Obsidian and Jim Corrigan--- who carried the Artifacts of Fate, taken from the unconscious form of the Wizard before he was bound and carted away by the authorities.
{Something bad.} Sandman reported, stooping to pick-up one of Inza Nelson’s golden bracelets; it was twisted and burnt, almost unrecognizable. {In my dream, Kent was far away, calling for help. He was in trouble.}
Hawkman’s frown deepened. “Obsidian, have you found anything?”
Sliding over the surfaces of the Tower, the young hero’s shadowy form jutted from a ceiling that was perpendicular to where Hawkman now stood. “Even the shadows have fled this place. I can’t find a single clue as to what happened to Dr. Fate or his wife.”
The Flash let out a long sigh and shook his head.
After a long moment of silent contemplation, Jim Corrigan, the man who had been the human host of the Spectre, donned the Helm of Nabu, snapped on the Cloak of Nergal, and looped the Amulet of Anubis around his neck. They all watched as he floated up (or down--- it was hard to tell in the Tower), his legs folding into a cross-legged position, his hands resting on his knees, with his thumb and ring fingers joined at the tips.
<I will make it my task to find out what happened to Kent and Inza Nelson,> he intoned. <In the interim, I will keep safe for them these relics of Chaos and Order, and the JSA may call upon me in their hour of need. For I sense there has never been a greater need for a keeper of the balance. Now, more than ever, there must be a Dr. Fate…>
Wildcat sat on the stump of a fallen tree in the middle of Main Street, drinking a beer in the warm spring afternoon. The clean-up was going well with the aid of the JSA, though Salem would not soon forget the ravages of the Wizard. On the hill overlooking the city, the Tower had stopped smoking, and the mystical damage to it had been repaired: seemed like there was a new doctor in residence.
Ted Grant shrugged and took a long swig; he was used to rolling with the punches. But he was concerned. The events of the day proved to him that the world needed a JSA--- but was the team ready? He looked out on them, working diligently with the authorities--- and doing good work--- there was a lot of power there, but he saw a lot of youth and inexperience, as well. He, Carter, Alan, Wes and Jay would be there to help guide the kids, but this was a dangerous business. Bulleteer was in the hospital even now, seriously hurt! It was going to take a lot of work to whip these kids into shape… and Ted Grant wasn’t sure he had it in him anymore. Sure, he talked a good game, but there were times he just wanted to put his feet up, enjoy a cold brew and watch others do the heavy lifting.
Tigress and Icicle approached him. His daughter’s chest was bandaged and Icicle walked with a slight limp, and they both wore the same uncertain scowl. He could tell they felt uncomfortable.
“We’re leaving now,” Tigress announced her chin jutting forward as if daring him to challenge that.
He did. “No you’re not. That’s not part of the deal.”
The Icicle rolled his eyes, and gave Tigress a look that said: “I told you so.”
“What are you talking about?” Tigress flared back at Wildcat. “You said all we had to do was help you. We did, and now we’re leaving.”
“Yeah, help us,” Wildcat drained the last of his beer, and got to his feet, facing his daughter squarely. “And today was a good start, but you’ve got a long way to go. Consider it part of yer rehabilitation.”
“Rehabilitation?” Artemis’ voice rose dangerously. “Who do you think you are, Grant? Who do you think we are?”
“Whatever you were yesterday, today you’re heroes.” Wildcat smirked at them.
Tigress and the Icicle both recoiled as if struck. The idea seemed to appall and titillate them at the same time. They both opened their mouths to speak, but neither could find the right words. They looked at each other, perplexed, then back to Wildcat.
He was enjoying their discomfort. In truth, he saw in them the answers to questions he’d just been asking himself. Questions of duty, and responsibility to the next generation. It was a dirty job, but… He took them in close, conspiratorially, hanging his arms around their shoulders and escorting them, unresisting, back towards the clean-up effort.
“It’s never too late ta do the right thing. Never too late ta fight the good fight. I’ll see that the two of you have rooms at the Museum, and that Hawkman doesn’t give you a hard time. We’ll have to work on your technique, Artemis--- yer good, but sloppy. And Cameron, well, kid, I don’t know how ta say this nicely, but you fight like a girl---.”
“Hey!” The Icicle retorted, and Tigress was forced to contain a snigger, despite herself.
“Shuddup, I’m trying ta teach ya somethin’ here,” Wildcat snarled out of the side of his mouth. “You’re members of the Justice Society of America, now--- we’ve got a standard to uphold…”
Cameron Mahkent was in big trouble. He had two members of the JSA on his tail, and they were gaining fast. Generating a sled of ice from the arctic blasts coming from his hands, he surfed that undulating, icy wave through the twisting canyons of the New York City streets, looking behind him only to shoot shards of razor-sharp ice at his pursuers. But still Jade and the Ray came on, corkscrewing out of the way of the freezing darts, but withholding their own fire--- presumably, Cameron thought--- as to not injure innocent bystanders.
He wasn’t going to be that lucky for much longer. Both Jade and the Ray were much faster than he, and within seconds, they were going to catch up to him. He would feel the concentrated light blasts of the Ray, or be enveloped by the green glowing force of Jade’s power-pulse…
He was starting to think this whole thing wasn’t such a good idea. Abandoned before birth by the father whose experiments in cryogenics had made him a freak, Cameron had long nursed a chip on his shoulder, and a grudge against the so-called heroes his father was obsessed with beating. When he had been contacted by the Wizard for this revenge caper, he had been all-too willing to come onboard, bringing Artemis with him, but now he realized, he really hadn’t thought it through: these guys were tough, better trained, and--- Cameron was loathed too admit--- he just couldn’t bring himself to fight to kill! And he so could have! He had had Hawkman in his sights, and instead of piercing the JSA chairmen with a dozen ice-barbs, what did he do? He encased him a block of ice from which he knew the hero could be easily rescued!
All he wanted to do now was find Artemis and go into hiding. She was close by, he knew, just across the river, in the small abandoned utility cabin overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge, where they had all agreed to re-group after the attack. The trick was doing it without leading Jade and the Ray right to her…
**********
The door to the abandoned concrete cabin suddenly glowed bright blue, icing over, and the ambient temperature of the room dropped precipitously. Wildcat and Tigress ducked as the door exploded inward, blowing brittle bits of wood and fiberglass over them.
“C’mon, lover, it’s time to---.” Icicle bounded into the room, but clapped his mouth shut at the sight of Wildcat, free and grinning at him. He turned a quizzical look on his girlfriend, who was dusting woodchips off her tiger-stripped spandex. “You let him go?”
“Cam, listen to me for a minute---.”
But Tigress was cut off by the far wall of the cabin exploding, and this time, all three of them were knocked backward with the force of it, pulverized stone-dust falling everywhere. In the gaping hole, beyond which could be seen the Jersey shore, was a very angry-looking Ray, his hands still aglow with white-hot light. There were patches of frost clinging to parts of his jacket and helmet, and he shivered a little.
“Alright Mr. Cold-Miser, there are parts of me that still aren’t thawed out yet, and that makes Mr. Heat-Miser very angry! How about a little hot-foot for---.”
“Ray, take a corner!” Wildcat barked, halting his impetuous teammate in his tracks.
Ray did a double-take, surprised to find the older hero here, but lowered his fiercely glowing hands. Jade swooped down out of the sky, and walked into the cabin, brushing off the rime that still clung to her.
Icicle was looking back and forth between Wildcat and Tigress with suspicion, while keeping a wary eye on the steaming Ray. “Tigress, what’s going on here?”
“That’s what I want to know.” Jade added, to Ray’s confused shrug.
Artemis Crock went to the only person in the world she gave a damn about, and said: “Cam, I… I think we made a mistake. This isn’t what we want for each other, is it? Wildcat is offering a deal, and I think we should take it.”
Icicle just stared at her, taken aback. His eyes searched her, wondering, perhaps, if she was being coerced.
But it was the Ray who spoke next. “Whoa, wait a minute here; a deal?” he said to Wildcat. “Aren’t we supposed to fight the bad guys?”
“These aren’t the bad guys, Ray,” Wildcat shot back, in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. “These are a couple of confused kids. Remind you of anyone else?”
At the pointed reminder of the Infinitors’ own history, Ray could only lapse into a fuming silence.
“Artemis, are you sure about this?” The look on Icicle’s face was one of deep suspicion.
Tigress gave him a lopsided, rueful smile. “No. But we don’t have a lot of choices, either. And there are some… other factors involved, but I’ll tell you about it later.”
Icicle chewed the thought for a long moment, glancing over her shoulder at the three waiting JSAers. Then, at last, looking like he had bitten into something sour, he asked: “What do we have to do?”
“Well, for starters, I think we need to tell them about Ragdoll and help them rescue the Tylers…”
At the same time, Wildcat, Jade and the Ray said: “What?!?”
Justice Society of America
Issue #3: “Injustice For All, Conclusion”
Written by David Charlton
Special Guest Cover Artist: Riz!
Edited by David Charlton
Issue #3: “Injustice For All, Conclusion”
Written by David Charlton
Special Guest Cover Artist: Riz!
Edited by David Charlton
JSA Roll Call!
Hawkman (Carter Hall): Reincarnated champion of justice, this Winged Avenger is master of Thanagarian Nth Metal and his own destiny!
Captain Marvel (Billy Batson):With one magic word, the World’s Mightiest Mortal battles the enemies of man with the power of Shazam!
Green Lantern (Alan Scott): Dark things cannot stand the light of the original Emerald Gladiator!
Bulleteer (Deanna Barr): Daughter of Golden Age heroes Bulletman and Bulletgirl, thanks to her father’s experiments she can transform her body into an indestructible, gravity-defying Nth Metal alloy!
Flash (Jay Garrick): The emotional core of the team, this original super-speedster is proud to mentor the next generation of heroes!
Atomika (Jo Morgan): Daughter of the original Atom, this Mighty Maid packs a nuclear wallop!
Wildcat (Ted Grant): The champ with nine lives, always ready to deliver the knockout punch to crime!
Jade (Jennie-Lynn Scott): Daughter of Alan Scott, she has internalized the power of the Green Flame, and just may be one of the most powerful beings in the universe!
Obsidian (Todd Scott): Son of Alan Scott, he controls the dark flipside of the Starheart, the Shadowlands, the quintessence of terror!
Sandman (Wesley Dodds): Donning a gas mask and a fedora, this haunted dreamer delivers the sleep of the just to wrongdoers!
Cyclone (Jesse Chambers): Daughter of Golden Age heroes Liberty Belle and Jesse Quick, when she speaks the formula 3X2(9YZ)4A, she becomes the fastest woman alive!
Ray (Ray Terrill): Son of the Golden Age Ray, this brash young hero dazzles with the power of pure light and his razor-sharp wit!
Starman (David Knight): Son of the Golden Age Starman, the newest wielder of the Cosmic Rod inherits a proud legacy of heroism and sacrifice!
Injustice Society Roll Call!
Wizard (William I. Zard): Master of illusion and deception, this ruthless magician will do anything to fulfill his ambition to destroy the JSA!
Black Adam (Teth-Adam): Renegade former champion of Shazam, he’ll do anything to claim all the power of wizard for himself!
Solomon Grundy (Cyrus Gold): Undead and immortal, this hulking zombie crawled from Slaughter Swamp to plague the JSA from their earliest days!
Gentleman Ghost (Jim Craddock): Menace from beyond the grave, and Golden Age foe of Hawkman!
Icicle (Cameron Mahkent): Son of the original Golden Age villain, he needs no ice-gun to shoot freezing blasts or send the temperature plummeting!
Tigress (Artemis Crock): Daughter of an illicit affair between Wildcat and the Golden Age villainess the Huntress, she is a master of exotic weaponry and a dozen fighting styles!
Fiddler (Isaac Bowen): Bitter old villain who can hypnotize foes with his violin, or use it to shoot sonic blasts!
Ragdoll (Simon Merkel): Like his father, the Golden Age villain of the same name, he is a master contortionist and a homicidal maniac!
Shade (Richard Swift): Mysterious immortal that can control and manipulate shadows, he lives for his jousts with the JSA!
**********
“At last,” crowed the Wizard, holding the glittering gold helmet over his head, friends and foes alike looking on, aghast. “The Helm of Nabu is mine!” There was a look of such fierce exultation on his pinched, angular face, that even the undead Gentleman Ghost hovering at his elbow was transfixed.
Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Black Adam had Green Lantern dangling limp in one hand, Hawkman in another. Flash and Cyclone still hadn’t picked themselves up from the wreckage on the floor, and Captain Marvel was looking back and forth between Adam and the Wizard, as if the wisdom of Solomon was at war with his instinct. Both Sandman and Bulleteer were down, groaning in pain, and Starman, commissioned on the field of battle as the newest member of the JSA, could only gape, like Captain Marvel, unsure which villain was the greatest threat.
The moment’s stalemate was broken by Atomika, crashing bodily through a wall and headlong into Black Adam! The force of her impact slammed him forward, causing him to release Green Lantern and Hawkman, the momentum carrying him within reach of Captain Marvel’s all-too ready fists: Cap reared back and drove his knuckles into Adam’s face, whipping the villain around violently, and back towards Jo! She came up with an atomic-powered two-fisted hammer-blow that rocked Black Adam to his knees. Barely able to comprehend what hit him, Adam swooned.
“Don’t let him get back up,” Hawkman yelled as pandemonium broke out anew. The Winged Avenger was crawling to his feet towards them, dragging his spiked ball-and-chain flail with him. That was all Jo and Cap needed. They dogpiled on Black Adam, the blows raining incessantly.
The Wizard had not hesitated. He doffed his top-hat with one hand and hurled it at Starman, who aimed a blast of cosmic rays at him. As the hat flew through the air, it expanded, swallowing not only the blast, but engulfing Starman, as well! A shapeless black mass fell to the rubble-strewn floor of the JSA Museum’s Hall of Magical Artifacts, squirming with a life swiftly being snuffed out! Closest to him, Sandman scrambled towards the panicked neophyte hero just as Obsidian flowed into the room, a living shadow with brightly glowing eyes. “I’ve got him!”
The Wizard regarded the chaos around him, and a deep, rich laugh escaped him. With a grand gesture, he donned the Helm of Nabu, and his laughter became amplified, reverberating in the halls of the JSA’s headquarters.
<We will meet again, my old enemies, and when we do, I will have everything I need to defeat you once and for all!> And with that, the Wizard conjured a swirling miasma of light, and stepped into it, the portal closing at his heels.
**********
David Knight panicked.
Seconds ago, the gaping maw of the Wizard’s hat enveloped him, and all light and air in the world was swallowed with him. He flailed about, blind and choking, his Cosmic Rod useless in the mystic murk that was killing him. Great, he thought in a voice that sounded suspiciously like his brother Jack’s, my first day on the job and I buy it from a clown in a top-hat. Maybe Dad was right; maybe I have no business being Starman. Well, at least I got to be in the JSA, for like a minute…
“Relax,” A calm voice broke through his panic. “I’ve got you.”
There were hands on him, pulling him up and away from the darkness. David clung to that voice, and now those arms, and slowly, light and air returned to the world. He sucked in a deep lungful, and Obsidian finished pulling him from the shadowstuff. He pulled his fin-topped face-mask down, shaking out his sweat-slicked brown hair, and gasped a thanks to his new teammate. Obsidian smiled--- a disconcerting expression in his mask.
The fight seemed to be over; dust and debris was settling all around and the heroes took stock of the situation. The Wizard had vanished, the Gentleman Ghost with him, and Black Adam knelt in submission at the feet of Captain Marvel, Atomika nearby rubbing her aching knuckles.
A pitiful groan came from Bulleteer on the floor; she was in her flesh and blood form, her arm wrenched out of its socket and broken in a number of places. The Flash and Green Lantern were by her side instantly, the latter conjuring a glowing green cushion beneath her as the former cradled her arm and spoke words of comfort. The heroine looked up at the speedster, biting her lower lip to keep it from quivering. “I tried to stop him,” she moaned. “I know I shouldn’t have gone in alone, I just wanted to stop him.”
“It’s alright, Deanna,” said Jay, stroking her hair, and looking to a grim-faced Alan Scott. The two were thinking the same thing: this was their fault. It was too soon for the junior members to be in the field.
“We’re going to need a doctor here,” Jay called out, his voice steady.
David Knight looked over at the prone form of Deanna Barr and felt his heart go out: this wasn’t how it was supposed to be, right? She was hurt, and hurt bad. Where was the fun, the camaraderie, the glory…? All he could think about was he wanted to help her, but had no idea what to do.
Everyone else’s attention was on Black Adam. The powerhouse villain knelt, his hands wrenched behind his back by Captain Marvel, but he held up his bruised, haughty face, his chin jutting forward. Hawkman stepped before him, letting the spiked ball of his flail fall to the floor with a demonstratively loud crunch.
“I’m only going to ask this once, Khem-Adam,” rasped the JSA’s chairman. “Where did Zard and Craddock go?”
Black Adam’s nostril’s flared and his upper lip twisted. “You don’t command me anymore, Khufu. Those days are long past. Black Adam answers to no one.”
“You answered to the Wizard and his damn fool Injustice Society,”
“We simply shared a common goal for a time,” Black Adam snorted. “I was promised an opportunity to humiliate Captain Marvel, and to capture the power of the wizard all for myself. And one day I will do it, too.”
“Not today,” Captain Marvel bore down on his prisoner, restraining him more tightly.
“Carter, can we worry about this later, Bulleteer is hurt---.”
“Where is he, Adam?” Hawkman loomed over his prisoner, his tone imperious, the ball and chain lifting off the floor. “Tell me or so help me I’ll have Atomika use your face as---.”
“Damnit, Carter, I said we need a doctor!”
Hawkman whirled, indignant, on Jay. The Flash glared back at his old friend, holding their injured teammate in his arms. Deanna was gritting her teeth through the pain, and the anger seemed to drain out of Carter Hall all at once.
He took off his mask, compassion in his eyes. “You’re going to be fine, Deanna.” He gave her a reassuring smile, then turned. “Cyclone, go find Charles McNider. He was in the guest of honor box outside before we evacuated the street,” he commanded, and the speedster was gone almost immediately. “Alan, can you get her to the hospital wing? Doc may need your help setting the bones.”
“Of course,” Green Lantern hovered off the floor, and with the cushion tethered to his emerald ring, he drifted off for the JSA’s fully-functional, state of the art Medical Bay, three levels below.
“Umm,” Obsidian cleared his throat awkwardly. “What are we going to do with him?” He nodded towards Black Adam.
Black Adam returned their attention with a smirk.
“He isn’t going to tell us anything. Take him to the Rock, Cap. Let him be Shazam’s problem.” The steel returned to Hawkman’s voice. Captain Marvel nodded tightly, and hauled the beaten villain to his feet. As he led Black Adam away, the villain allowed his gaze to fall and linger on Atomika, as if marking her for future retribution.
After the two were gone, and after an involuntary shiver, she turned to the others and asked: “What about Wildcat? He didn’t show up today… I’m worried about him…”
Carter turned back to Flash. “Jay?”
“Be right back,” said the silver-topped speedster, and he was off in a blur.
“That is so cool,” David Knight shook his head in admiration.
“Wait,” was all Obsidian said in reply.
A heartbeat later, the Flash was skidding to a halt in front of Hawkman, looking grim.
“His apartment in Gotham is empty, and there’s blood on the floor of his gym.” He reported. “No sign of him anywhere.”
Carter swore under his breath, even as Jo gasped, holding her hand to her mouth.
“Ted Grant can handle himself,” Carter told them. “If he’s been taken, I’m more concerned for his captors. First things first: we need to find Zard. Wes, you’ve been awful quiet: any ideas?”
The Sandman looked up from his contemplation of a shattered exhibit case, stood and held up an engraved brass placard.
{Just one,} came his voice, eerily distorted by his gasmask. {The attack was a ploy, a distraction to cover the Wizard’s theft. He knew just what he wanted, and knew he needed a ghost to get past the mystical wards set upon it.}
“The Helm of Nabu,” Carter frowned. “Why is it here, anyway? I mean, doesn’t Kent need it?”
{Dr. Fate gave up wearing the Helm many years ago,} Sandman explained. {Kent found himself becoming overwhelmed by the Lord of Order that dwelt within, and instead took to wearing a half-helm he fashioned himself, called the Helmet of Fate.}
“I’d been meaning to ask him about that,” Jay Garrick snapped his fingers, thinking back to that final battle with Degaton and their rescue of the Infinitors [Editors Note: See All-Star Comics Annual #1].
{But the Helm of Nabu is only one of the three Artifacts of Fate,} Sandman went on. {With the Helm of Nabu, the most powerful of the three, the Wizard may challenge Dr. Fate for the other two: the Amulet of Anubis and the Cloak of Nergal. With such powerful magical artifacts in his hands…}
“I’d rather not think about what Zard would do with that much power,” Hawkman finished the thought. “But that means we know where to find him, then. He can only be headed to one place…”
“Salem,” A familiar, though long-unheard voice said. “Fate’s Tower.”
A man with rust-red hair and casual clothes many generations out of style picked his way over the debris of battle to join the JSA. He did not appear to be very old, but there seemed to be the weight of many years on his shoulders, and a deep sorrow bought with the experience of humanity at its worst.
“Jim…? Jim, is that you?” Flash’s voice was tentative, amazed. Any other old friend, and Jay Garrick would have already been embracing him, thumping him companionably on the back, but this man… This man was different.
The man who had been Jim Corrigan, New York City policeman slain in the line of duty in 1938, regarded them all with a pained grimace. “Hiya, fellas. And lady,” He nodded at Atomika. “You didn’t think I would miss JSA Day, did ya?”
**********
“Glad to have you back, Corrigan,” Carter said, after the pleasantries and introductions had been concluded. “But where have you been? We could have used the Spectre a few minutes ago.”
“I’ve been, well, asleep is the best way to put it.” Corrigan told them, looking almost sheepish. “After the HUAC hearings in ’51, I refused to call upon the Spirit of Vengeance again. I fought the good fight, and I felt I had earned my rest; I thought my days of walking the Earth were done.” If possible, Corrigan’s smile grew more morose. “Well, maybe my work was done, but the Spectre’s wasn’t. He was called to face a cosmic threat, and it nearly undid him [Editor’s Note: See Wonder Woman # 8]. Afterward, he… vanished.”
{What do you mean?} Sandman asked, crossing his arms. {Did he go to sleep, too?}
“Not exactly.” Corrigan scratched his chin stubble. “Vengeance never rests, or at least it isn’t supposed to. After I ‘retired’, the Spectre found itself without a host. That connection is its anchor to humanity. Without it, the spirit is weakened, and can be hurt--- destroyed, even. Nor is there anything holding it to this plane of existence.”
Hawkman shook his head in disbelief. “Are you telling us you lost the Spectre…?”
Jim Corrigan lowered his head.
Hawkman rolled his eyes and groaned. “We don’t have time for this; we’ve got to warn Kent and Inza.”
“Carter,” Corrigan said, catching Hawkman by the upper arm before the chairmen could turn away. “I may not be bonded to the Spectre, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be helpful. A small measure of power has been granted to me.”
“Can you get us to Fate’s Tower in a hurry?”
Corrigan nodded, but his eyes were troubled. “I can, but we’ll need to be very careful: I sense something very wrong coming from the Tower, something that has nothing to do with Zard, or his new Injustice Society.”
{Heed him, old friend,} Sandman spoke up. {I dreamt of Fate last night. He was crying out to us, as if from a great distance… }
“All the more reason for us to hurry,” Hawkman said with a grim set to his jaw. He beckoned Sandman, Atomika, Obsidian, Flash, and Starman to come closer. “Alright, Jim: do your hocus pocus, and let’s teach Zard and his cronies what happens when you come after the Justice Society of America…”
**********
They appeared on a grassy knoll overlooking Salem, and were greeted by a horrific sight: though it was still early morning, thick black clouds roiled overhead, blotting out the sun and turning day into night. Before them was Fate’s Tower, and it seemed to be the center of the meteorological disturbance: billows of smoke issued from the crenelated top of the Tower, as if it were a chimney. And that wasn’t all: usually the Tower had no windows or doors, but now there was a gaping hole in one side, like a mystic wound, which sparked and shimmered.
“Hell of a first day on the job, huh?” Obsidian said to the appalled expression on Starman’s face.
The new hero could only swallow heavily and nod, as overhead, thunder rumbled. Down below, in the town, distant sirens wailed and car alarms went off. The air was pregnant with chaos.
“Look, there!” The sharp-eyed Atomika pointed down towards Salem, and all eyes followed. There was a frantic uproar of activity near the center of the quaint downtown shopping district, and on the rising wind there came the sounds of a maniacal laughter.
“We’re too late,” Corrigan gnashed his teeth. “Zard has all of the artifacts!”
Without a word, the Flash took off, disappearing into the Tower. The original Scarlet Speedster had been to the place many times, but not for many years: at the best of times, the interior of Fate’s Tower was a confusing jumble of corridors and chambers which defied the laws of physics and geometry. Now, with a hideous arcane wound in it, time and space within were horribly disjointed. Nonetheless, Jay Garrick braved the shifting non-Euclidean planes, and unstable Escher-esque architecture, searching in vain for the two occupants of the Tower, calling their names as he ran.
All that greeted him were echoes of his own voice, and a feeling of dreadful foreboding.
“Kent and Inza are not in there.” Jay reported, as he rejoined his teammates outside the Tower. “Zard must have taken them by surprise.”
{I don’t think so,} said the Sandman. {I think the Wizard found an abandoned and defenseless Tower. Jim is right: something else is going on here.}
“Well we can’t worry about it now,” Hawkman spread his wings and leaped into the air. “Let’s finish this before Zard does any more damage!”
**********
The Wizard stood in the midst of a mystical maelstrom in the center of town. The Cloak of Nergal snapped and whipped around him, the Helm of Nabu glimmered on his head, his eyes glowing through the narrow eyeslits, and on his breast he wore the fabled Amulet of Anubis. It had been so easy to claim the Artifacts. A simple spell had torn a hole in the side of the Tower, and though he had been prepared for a showdown with Dr. Fate, the mystic was nowhere to be seen. He and Craddock had just walked in, and there they were, the Artifacts, theirs for the taking! He destroyed the much inferior Helmet of Fate, almost as an afterthought, clad himself in the Cloak and Amulet, and--- suffused with power--- went out into town to test his limits.
Gliding down Chestnut Street, he hurled thunderbolts of power in arbitrary directions, blowing-up cars, incinerating centuries-old buildings and killing bystanders with as much thought as he gave to dusting snow off his coat. Craddock floated at his side, all that was left of his new Injustice Society. No matter. He didn’t need any of them anymore. He was strong enough now to take on the JSA by himself.
The Salem Police had taken up position and were taking shots at him, which he deflected with negligently conjured ankh-shaped shields.
“Is there a purpose to all of this random mayhem?” The Gentlemen Ghost intoned, sounding bored. “When do we get to kill the JSA and their ilk?”
<Soon, Craddock,> the Wizard levitated a fire-engine and sent it careening sideways into City Hall. <First, I want to try something.>
Do not, a strange, but authoritarian voice sounded in Zard’s mind. You’ve never been anything but a petty trickster, Zard. You are meddling here with forces that surpass your understanding.
<Be silent!> the Wizard hissed aloud, and the Gentleman Ghost’s bodiless hat and monocle turned towards him quizzically. <The Artifacts of Fate are mine to control. Mine!> And with that, he spoke words that came instinctively to him now, words to raise the dead.
In the Salem Cemetery across town, earth erupted outward, and rotting flesh clawed its way to the surface.
In minutes, hundreds of grundies were shambling through the streets of Salem, bound to the will of the Wizard!
**********
47:01, 47:00. 46:59…
The emergency responders had arrived, and Rick Tyler walked beside the gurney with his mother as they wheeled his father out the front door of their house, and towards the ambulance.
“Damn it, let me up, I feel fine!” Rex Tyler protested, though the effort of trying to rise caused him to cough. His windpipe had been badly bruised by his near hanging by Ragdoll, but the former mystery man had walked away from much worse in his day.
“Rex, please, just let the doctors take a look at you---.”
As his parents bickered, Rick Tyler found it hard to concentrate. The Miraclo that was coursing through his bloodstream made him pulse with the need for action… He wanted to run, to jump, to hit something…! He had never before felt so charged with life. He bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to keep still. The police were leading the still-groggy Ragdoll out of the house now, cuffed and weakened by the beating Rick had given him. A smile crossed the young man’s face. That was fun. Let’s do that again…
From out of the sky, came a group of heroes from the JSA. Rick recognized Jade and the Ray, and in a green bubble towed by Jade were Wildcat and two others Rick did not know.
“Wildcat!” Rex Tyler called out to his old friend as the group landed close by, and Jade’s protective bubble dissolved. Rex pushed past the EMS techs and climbed off the stretcher, ignoring his wife’s protests, and clasped hands with a grinning Wildcat.
“Tigress and Icicle here just clued us into a plan by a new Injustice Society to take us all out.” Wildcat thumbed over his shoulder towards the indicated pair. “We’re here to rescue you from Ragdoll.”
“Then you’re too late.” Rex Tyler’s chest swelled with pride. “My boy Rick already took care of it.”
Wildcat gave the now-grinning Rick a measuring look, nodding his head approvingly. “Hiya doin’, kid. Still remember that right hook I taught ya?”
“You know it!” For emphasis, Rick slammed his right fist into his left palm. “And there’s more where that came from!”
Wildcat looked impressed and turned to Rex. “Miraclo?”
Rex nodded, smiling indulgently. “First time.”
Just then, one of the policemen called out to them, waving them over to his cruiser. “Hey, JSA! You guys should hear this…”
The heroes, with their Injustice Society converts, and the Tyler family crowded around the car, straining to hear the news report on the radio.
“… at this time we’re not exactly sure what’s going on in Salem, Massachusetts,” came the rattled voice of the announcer, “but it appears that a man wearing the raiment of longtime JSA member Dr. Fate has gone on a magical rampage in the old town’s historical shopping district. The streets are filled with what appear to be the walking dead, erupting from now open graves in the cemetery. I have just received an unconfirmed report that the JSA is on the scene, battling the zombies…”
“Looks like we’re headed to Salem,” Wildcat drawled, and turning to Rex, he asked, “You want in on this, buddy?”
But before Rex Tyler could even open his mouth, his wife stamped her foot and laid down the law. “You aren’t going anywhere but the hospital! Not fifteen minutes ago, I almost watched you die, and if you think I’m letting you out of my sight for an instant, you are more out of your mind than even I thought!”
Rex took one look at her determined expression and fuming face, and knew she would brook no argument.
“You heard Wendi, Ted, I’m going to sit this one out,” Rex told his friend regretfully. “But give ‘em hell for me.”
Before Wildcat could respond, Rick blurted: “I’m coming!”
All eyes turned towards him. He stared back at them, grinning broadly. His mother was already opening her mouth with an “Oh, no, not you too!” look on her face, but Rick cut her off.
“C’mon, Mom, I’m a grown man, I can make my own decisions. Suddenly, I know what Dad was talking about all these years, about fighting the good fight, taking down the bad guys. I’ve never wanted to do anything as much as I want to do that right now. Besides, from the sound of things, the JSA can use all the help they can get!”
Appalled, Wendi Tyler looked from her son to her husband, the latter of whom was having difficulty hiding his grin.
“This is his decision to make, Wendi,” Rex said in a placating tone. “And it sounds to me like he’s the man of the hour.”
At that, her eyes grew wide, and she let out a fuming groan. But she knew she had been defeated.
Rex addressed his son. “I had a new costume made a few months ago, but I’ve never worn it. It’s upstairs, and I’m pretty sure it’ll fit you.”
Rick Tyler pumped his fist in the air, then bounded back towards the house.
43:21, 43:20, 43:19…
**********
<Rise, my grundies!> The villain threw up his hands, waving them about as if conducting an orchestra. <Rise, and destroy the Justice Society!>
The poor mindless automatons had picked up speed and energy, raving with a terrifying frenzy across the streets of Salem. The squad of JSAers had been fighting to evacuate the innocent bystanders, but were now forced to fight for their lives as mobs of slavering zombies fell on them.
Atomika lashed out, sending broken bodies scattering in all directions, but more kept coming. She screamed, pulled down under the sheer weight of them. Starman blasted away from the air, trying to clear them away from her, and was joined by the Flash, who couldn’t pull them off fast enough. Only Obsidian was having any success, his shadow form proving to terrify even the dead, and send them howling back to their graves.
Taking a more direct approach, Hawkman flew straight at the Wizard, his lip curled, swinging the wicked-looking spiked flail. So distracted by conducting his symphony of horror, the Wizard was caught off guard. Hawkman’s flail rang loudly off the Helm of Nabu, and the Wizard staggered backward, falling to the ground. Hawkman circled overhead, and narrowly avoided the first blast of mystical energy the Wizard sent scorching his way--- but not the second! It seared through his wings, lighting them on fire almost instantly. Like an archangel thrown from Heaven, Hawkman blazed out of the sky, aiming for the mouth of the Naumkeag River. He hit the water with a belch of steam.
The Gentleman Ghost laughed appreciatively.
“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you, Ghost.”
His hands in his pockets and looking as if he posed no threat to them, Jim Corrigan was walking straight towards the Wizard and the Gentleman Ghost.
<Fool! Go to hell!> the Wizard snarled and directed a two-handed blast at him.
The beams of power passed harmless through Corrigan, exploding an empty ice cream shoppe across the street.
“Wasn’t on my itinerary anytime soon, imposter.” Corrigan told him, still coming on.
<Imposter?> the Wizard took a step backward, away from the unnerving man. <I won the Artifacts of Fate fairly! They are mine! The Tower is mine!>
“Oh, really? From whom did you win them? Where was Dr. Fate when you stole his artifacts, like a thief in the night, a common burglar? Don’t you feel your control of the magicks slipping away even now?”
<Craddock, stop him!>
The Gentleman Ghost floated forward, and from out of nowhere, he leveled two antique flintlock pistols at Corrigan.
Corrigan paused, raising an eyebrow at the weapons, and the apparition before him.
“You should know better than anyone that you can’t kill a ghost---.”
The flintlocks fired in a racket of smoke--- and Corrigan doubled over, his face twisted in pain and surprise.
“I’ve been dead a lot longer than you, sir,” chortled Gentleman Jim Craddock. “I’ve learned a few tricks…”
The flintlocks roared again.
**********
“Getoffmegetoffmegetoffmegetoffmeg…!”
Atomika thrashed wildly on the ground, the air around her charged with atomic particles that popped and sizzled, but still the grundies piled on, disintegrating under her assault, their remains smothering her, blocking out her sight.
Panic gripped her mind, driving out every lesson she learned about battle. She could only fight back with reckless abandon, hoping pure terror and brute force was enough to save her life.
Then they started falling away. Their rank, rotting faces were yanked back and she could breathe again…! A gloved fist smashed into the head of one, sending it crashing to the street next to her.
“Jeez, I can’t leave you guys alone for one day…” drawled Wildcat as he hauled her to her feet.
Relief and joy flooded through Jo and she caught him up in a tight embrace.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, ease up, kid,” Ted Grant hugged her a little awkwardly, startled by the passion of her response.
“We thought you were dead,” Jo leaped back abruptly, her cheeks flushed. “The Injustice Society ambushed us at the Parade, and we thought they---.”
“Catch me up later, but in the meantime, I brought reinforcements!”
He nodded towards the escalating battle. She, Flash, Obsidian and Starman had had their hands full dealing with the grundies, but now others had joined the fray. Jade and the Ray were a welcome sight, striking from the air, but the others were a surprise: someone dressed in the garb of Hourman was bounding ecstatically from foe to foe, hurling them bodily from the battle and delivering crushing haymakers; there was a woman in the garb of a huntress, utilizing a refined fighting style--- and a collection of fearsome weapons!--- to scatter the grundies; and was that last one the Icicle, who not long ago had been trying to kill them…?
**********
He’s right, imposter, said the voice in the Helm. You could never master my Helm--- or the Cloak and Amulet. Surrender them now, or you shall surely go mad!
The Wizard put his hands to either side of his helmeted head, but the gesture was useless. The voice was coming from within, and could not be blocked out.
Sanity is such a fragile state, cretin, warned the voice. All it takes is a little push, and you are over the edge. You are close to the edge, William Izmodeus Zard! Lay down the Artifacts, now! The power will consume you first, and then the whole world! If you care at all for your race--- your planet!--- take off the Helm!
The Wizard let out a long, keening wail. Falling to his knees, he fought desperately to grasp back the control that was dribbling through his fingers like a handful of water. But it was too much. The mysteries overwhelmed him, fileted his brain with as much precision as a surgeon using a butcher’s knife. Madness blossomed like a chancrous flower in his consciousness.
A hysterical, breathless giggle escaped him. He straightened up, crackling with the might that had mastered him. He would drown the world in a maelstrom of magick…
**********
The tide had been turning. The JSA, thanks to the new arrivals, had the grundies contained, and most of the innocent bystanders out of harm’s way. Hawkman crawled out of the water and onto the wharf, dragging his weapon, bedraggled but eager to get back into the fight. The ghosts of Jim Corrigan and Jim Craddock grappled with each other, evenly matched until Obsidian joined the spectral battle. Craddock fled, cursing and vowing revenge…
That’s when the madness of the Wizard was unleashed. He waded among them, gliding on astral winds and aglow with puissance. With an inarticulate howl, he jabbed his arms at the cloud-stuffed skies, and bolts of lightning sizzled from his hands. The lightning lingered a moment, illuminating the looks of shock and horror from those below--- then the clouds opened up and a storm of sorcery descended! Bat-winged creatures burst from the clouds, screeching for blood; huge cracks opened in the streets of Salem and segmented creatures with a carapace of dark magma clicked and clattered out onto the Earth, huge pincers working furiously; and from the Wizard himself came erratic blasts of lightning, scoring the ground and everything around him.
From imminent victory, a disastrous defeat now loomed. The demonbats strafed Starman, Jade and the Ray, claws and fangs gouging for eyes. On the ground, the magmamites filled the streets, leaping at anything that moved; Hourman wrestled with two at the same time, bashing one with the husk of another, as Atomika struggled to keep the pincers of another from closing around her waist. The Wizard, even in his incoherent madness, seemed to target Tigress and the Icicle, sending jagged spikes of electricity at them as fast as Icicle was able to erect ice-shields.
But they could not keep it up forever. Tigress was already down, a stray bolt escaping Icicle’s wards; she lay, unmoving, a black burn mark smoking on her chest. Wildcat yelled her name and ran to her, Atomika frantically kicking aside the magmamites that jumped at his exposed back. Harried by the demonbats, Ray crashed into the side of a church steeple, and Starman was bleeding from a dozen small wounds already. The Flash zig-zagged from place to place, pulling first Hourman, then Hawkman from the deadly pincers of the beasts… but they kept coming out from the bowels of the earth, like cockroaches flushed from a hiding place, surrounding them… And above it all was the maniacal tittering of the Wizard.
Exhausted, the Icicle slumped to the ground near Tigress, Wildcat and Atomika, his chest heaving. The Wizard loomed above them, his arms out and fingers splayed, static dancing between them. <Die, traitors!>
The lightning snaked out…
There was a red and gold streak and suddenly Captain Marvel was there, hands on his hips and his cape snapping smartly! The lightning licked his chest, to no effect, and the World’s Mightiest Mortal gave the Wizard a wide smile.
“Heh. Tickles.”
The Wizard’s laughter became higher-pitched and he made a sweeping gesture with his hands. A sudden wind arose, like a tornado, and threatened sweep all of them away. Captain Marvel dug in, shielding the others with his body.
Green Lantern had arrived as well, joining Jade in the air, and together the two wielders of the Green Flame swept the sky with power-ring-generated nets, clearing out the demonbats. On the ground, Cyclone hit the magmamites from behind, scattering them like bowling pins. She managed to pull Hourman from the clutches of one just as the razor-sharp pincers had been about to snap off his head!
“You saved my life!” the newly-minted hero regarded her with slack-jawed awe after she set him down in a clear patch of street.
“Return the favor someday, handsome.” She chucked him under the chin, and with a dazzling smile she left behind a smitten Rick Tyler.
Nearly all the JSA were assembled on the field before the Wizard--- and he threw everything he had at them! Hawkman yelled encouragement to them as he charged the Wizard, his flail bouncing off a hastily conjured shield. Captain Marvel trudged forward into the teeth of a tightly focused gale force the Wizard poured at him with one hand, while the other hand sent blasts to keep the rest of the JSA at bay.
So it was that the Wizard never saw the most dangerous threat creeping up on him, calmly, patiently, ineluctably. With the Artifacts of Fate, Zard was invulnerable to just about any physical or arcane attack. He could take the worst punishment the JSA could dish out, and remain inviolate. But, like Dr. Fate, he was vulnerable to one subtle peril: a gas attack.
The noxious green cloud enveloped Zard, its gaseous tendrils wending their way up underneath the helm, and through the eyeslits… The supervillain gagged on it, inhaling a specially mixed higher concentration. His feet touched the ground, and he staggered, choking. The magickal chaos ceased suddenly, their orchestrator gasping for breath.
Behind him stood the Sandman, his gas gun still trailing wisps of smoke.
{William Zard, I shudder to contemplate the dreams that await your unquiet slumber…}
And with a last gurgling groan, the Wizard collapsed.
**********
With the defeat of the Wizard, the cloud-cover over Salem dispersed and a bright morning sun shone down upon the ravaged town. The chaos creatures summoned by the power of Fate fled, the demonbats into the aether, and the magmamites into the gaping holes in the ground--- the grundies simply fell to pieces where they stood, leaving the grisly task of the survivors to return the remains to the graves.
The JSA stayed to help with the clean-up. Green Lantern and Jade led the effort, working tirelessly with the power of the Starheart to close-up the cracks in the ground, clear away rubble from the Wizard’s destructive rampage, and put out any lingering fires. Using the last remaining minutes of his Hour of Power, Rick Tyler rescued a fireman from the collapsed timbers of a building, Starman helped move destroyed vehicles from the streets, Captain Marvel righted a building that was threatening to collapse, and even the Icicle helped, freezing the gushing water from severed main-lines--- though not until EMS techs had assured him Tigress would be alright.
“Not bad for a newbie,” Cyclone commented, skidding to a halt in front of Hourman as he paused for a breather. The effects of the Miraclo were quickly wearing off, leaving him more tired than he could ever remember being. But the sight of Jesse Chambers leaning casually against a lamp post perked him up again. He gave her a big, bluff smile.
“You’d be surprised by the things I can do during my Hour of Power,”
“Only an hour, huh?” She raised an eyebrow suggestively. “I think you can do better, big boy…”
And before he could think of a suitable reply, she was off, helping a group of nurses carrying people to the hospital. Rick decided that’s where his strengths could be best utilized, as well.
**********
“Just what in the hell happened here?” Hawkman frowned as he searched around the shattered foyer of Fate’s Tower. With him were the Flash, Sandman, Obsidian and Jim Corrigan--- who carried the Artifacts of Fate, taken from the unconscious form of the Wizard before he was bound and carted away by the authorities.
{Something bad.} Sandman reported, stooping to pick-up one of Inza Nelson’s golden bracelets; it was twisted and burnt, almost unrecognizable. {In my dream, Kent was far away, calling for help. He was in trouble.}
Hawkman’s frown deepened. “Obsidian, have you found anything?”
Sliding over the surfaces of the Tower, the young hero’s shadowy form jutted from a ceiling that was perpendicular to where Hawkman now stood. “Even the shadows have fled this place. I can’t find a single clue as to what happened to Dr. Fate or his wife.”
The Flash let out a long sigh and shook his head.
After a long moment of silent contemplation, Jim Corrigan, the man who had been the human host of the Spectre, donned the Helm of Nabu, snapped on the Cloak of Nergal, and looped the Amulet of Anubis around his neck. They all watched as he floated up (or down--- it was hard to tell in the Tower), his legs folding into a cross-legged position, his hands resting on his knees, with his thumb and ring fingers joined at the tips.
<I will make it my task to find out what happened to Kent and Inza Nelson,> he intoned. <In the interim, I will keep safe for them these relics of Chaos and Order, and the JSA may call upon me in their hour of need. For I sense there has never been a greater need for a keeper of the balance. Now, more than ever, there must be a Dr. Fate…>
**********
Wildcat sat on the stump of a fallen tree in the middle of Main Street, drinking a beer in the warm spring afternoon. The clean-up was going well with the aid of the JSA, though Salem would not soon forget the ravages of the Wizard. On the hill overlooking the city, the Tower had stopped smoking, and the mystical damage to it had been repaired: seemed like there was a new doctor in residence.
Ted Grant shrugged and took a long swig; he was used to rolling with the punches. But he was concerned. The events of the day proved to him that the world needed a JSA--- but was the team ready? He looked out on them, working diligently with the authorities--- and doing good work--- there was a lot of power there, but he saw a lot of youth and inexperience, as well. He, Carter, Alan, Wes and Jay would be there to help guide the kids, but this was a dangerous business. Bulleteer was in the hospital even now, seriously hurt! It was going to take a lot of work to whip these kids into shape… and Ted Grant wasn’t sure he had it in him anymore. Sure, he talked a good game, but there were times he just wanted to put his feet up, enjoy a cold brew and watch others do the heavy lifting.
Tigress and Icicle approached him. His daughter’s chest was bandaged and Icicle walked with a slight limp, and they both wore the same uncertain scowl. He could tell they felt uncomfortable.
“We’re leaving now,” Tigress announced her chin jutting forward as if daring him to challenge that.
He did. “No you’re not. That’s not part of the deal.”
The Icicle rolled his eyes, and gave Tigress a look that said: “I told you so.”
“What are you talking about?” Tigress flared back at Wildcat. “You said all we had to do was help you. We did, and now we’re leaving.”
“Yeah, help us,” Wildcat drained the last of his beer, and got to his feet, facing his daughter squarely. “And today was a good start, but you’ve got a long way to go. Consider it part of yer rehabilitation.”
“Rehabilitation?” Artemis’ voice rose dangerously. “Who do you think you are, Grant? Who do you think we are?”
“Whatever you were yesterday, today you’re heroes.” Wildcat smirked at them.
Tigress and the Icicle both recoiled as if struck. The idea seemed to appall and titillate them at the same time. They both opened their mouths to speak, but neither could find the right words. They looked at each other, perplexed, then back to Wildcat.
He was enjoying their discomfort. In truth, he saw in them the answers to questions he’d just been asking himself. Questions of duty, and responsibility to the next generation. It was a dirty job, but… He took them in close, conspiratorially, hanging his arms around their shoulders and escorting them, unresisting, back towards the clean-up effort.
“It’s never too late ta do the right thing. Never too late ta fight the good fight. I’ll see that the two of you have rooms at the Museum, and that Hawkman doesn’t give you a hard time. We’ll have to work on your technique, Artemis--- yer good, but sloppy. And Cameron, well, kid, I don’t know how ta say this nicely, but you fight like a girl---.”
“Hey!” The Icicle retorted, and Tigress was forced to contain a snigger, despite herself.
“Shuddup, I’m trying ta teach ya somethin’ here,” Wildcat snarled out of the side of his mouth. “You’re members of the Justice Society of America, now--- we’ve got a standard to uphold…”
THE END!
