Justice League of America - Batman: The Stone King by Alan Grant (best english novels to read .txt) 📗

pulled at the people on the platform's edge, the Flash was a red blur running toward them at incredible speed. He grabbed the belt of an overcoat as its wearer overbalanced and began to fall forward, yanking the man back to safety before he even realized he was in danger.

Then the Flash's body was between the other passengers and the track, the Shockwave created in the air by his speed gently shifting them back from the edge.

It happened so fast, the passengers had no idea what was going on. As the train's rear lights disappeared out of the station, the Flash didn't hesitate. He leaped down onto the track without breaking stride and streaked after the out-of-control train.

His legs pumping like pistons, the Flash raced along the track in the wake of the speeding train, his super-speed allowing him to quickly overhaul it. He saw the terrified faces of the passengers in the end car as he caught up with it, and his mind sifted swiftly through the alternatives.

He could try to unhitch the cars from the engine, leaving them to slow down and stop naturally. But that was a delicate maneuver to try and perform when the train was moving at a good eighty miles an hour through the confines of the tunnel. He could swing himself up into one of the cars and apply the emergency brake, but a sudden halt at this speed might unbalance the whole train and send it rattling off the tracks.

No, there was only one way to stop it. He had to incapacitate the driver and use the main brakes to bring the runaway engine under control.

It wouldn't be easy: there was less than eighteen inches of clearance on either side of the swaying train. It would take only one unexpected jolt, and all of the Flash's vaunted speed would do him no good as he was crushed between the train and the unyielding tunnel wall.

The Flash judged his moment perfectly, leaping two steps sideways, accelerating at unbelievable speed as he moved into the narrow gap between the train and the wall. His eyes scanned what he could see of the track ahead, looking for railside obstructions. If he hit a signal, or even a discarded workman's tool, he knew that he faced death, or at the very least severe injury.

A few hundred yards ahead, the Flash saw the glow of a red stop signal. Beyond it, he knew that the tracks crossed; one of the Suburban Line trains had right-of-way. Unless he could halt this train now, there was going to be an accident of cataclysmic proportions.

The Flash accelerated, his feet almost flying as he leaped lithely from the end of one concrete sleeper beam to another, leaving carriage after carriage behind him. He drew level with the engine, casting a final glance at the fast-approaching red signal as he made his move. If he got it wrong, there was no hope of a second chance.

Grabbing the handle on the outside of the door, the Flash swung both legs smoothly off the track, bringing his feet up to smash through the toughened glass of the window. An instant later he was inside.

Kurt Glaser's eyes stared straight ahead, blazing with an unnatural light There was a slight smile on the man's lips, as if he was looking forward to the crash that was now only seconds away.

"Brake!" the Flash yelled.

Kurt Glaser didn't even turn to look as he threw out one fist in a savage backhand blow. Taken by surprise, the Flash barely managed to jerk his head aside in time. Glaser's fist whistled past his chin, embedding itself in the cab wall with a fearsome crash.

Superstrength!

Before the possessed Kurt Glaser could react, the Flash's fist shot out, delivering a rapid-fire series of triphammer blows to the driver's head. Glaser went down like a tenpin, sprawling unconscious on the floor of the cab.

Through the cab window, the Flash saw that they were almost on top of the signal. Desperately, he grabbed the brake handle and pushed it forward to its furthest extent. The train wheels screamed as the potent air brakes bit, sending up an explosion of sparks.

The brake shuddered and shook in the Flash's hand as he fought to hold it in position. For a moment, he thought the engine was going to jump the tracks. He knew that the sudden deceleration would be throwing the passengers around in the cars behind–but better that than a headlong smash into another train.

The Flash breathed a deep sigh of relief as the train ground to a halt a dozen yards beyond the signal, but still a good way short of the cross track. There was a roar of moving air, and he saw the lights of the Suburban Line Special speed by in front of him. Only then did he realize just how close they'd come to disaster. Another half second and . . .

The Flash dismissed the thought. In the hero business, you'd go crazy if you dwelled on all the near misses. For the first time, he glanced down at Kurt Glaser. There was a momentary flicker of blue light, then Glaser groaned and opened his eyes with an obvious effort.

He stared uncomprehendingly at the Flash, then lapsed back into unconsciousness.

The Flash fingered the emergency button that would sound a distress call in the control center. Then he set off toward the rear of the train to ensure the passengers were all right.

As he went, his mind seethed with unanswered questions.

Cape Canaveral, Florida

"Almost midnight, the end of October, and it's still eighty degrees out here. I'm telling you, Clark–it's not natural!"

Jimmy Olsen dabbed at the perspiration beaded on his forehead with a handkerchief. His flaming red hair was damp from humidity, collecting into the tight little curls he hated so much, the way it always did when he was wet. Florida had been enjoying a late-season heat wave as a ridge of strong high pressure lay unmoving offshore.

Beside Jimmy, Clark Kent