Firestorm rushes to New York City to meet his father's plane arriving at JFK Airport. Felicity Smoak became ill on the flight home from her honeymoon cruise. Doctors suspect a rare infectious collagen disease, and think an experimental treatment being used in Los Angeles may be her only hope. Firestorm quickly flies to Los Angeles to obtain the experimental serum, but before he can get there, the lab is thrown into disarray when research student Todd Walton steals the serum. Ed Raymond arrives in Los Angeles to pick up the serum and meets with an old reporter friend, Jody. The two men follow a lead on Walton that takes them to the Bel Air home of notorious gangster Mr. Shark. Firestorm confronts Walton at the Los Angeles Zoo.

Notes:

• Numbering continues in Firestorm Annual #5.

Firestorm826's Panel-by-Panel Story Summary (Spoiler Alert)

Prologue

From Pittsburgh to New York City by commercial airliner is a flight of a little less than an hour. He makes it in ten minutes, heart pounding all the way. His name is Firestorm. Someone close to him is dying.

Ronnie flies down to the tarmac at the airport. He lands near a giant Boeing 747 that has just landed and is taxiing in to its gate. “That must be the plane, Ronald,” Professor Stein observes, “Your father’s message specified Flight 94, arriving at this terminal. Won’t he wonder how we managed to get to New York so quickly?” Ronnie quickly finds a sheltered area near the plane. “Maybe. Who cares? I’ll worry about explanations later,” Ronnie answers, adding, “All that secret identity stuff doesn’t seem to important right now, Professor.”

He concentrates. The nuclear fusion of two beings into one is reversed…FZZAAM! And where there was Firestorm, the Nuclear Man, there is now Ronnie Raymond, student, and Professor Martin Stein, teacher.

“There’s the gate up ahead. I see Dad..,” Ronnie says as they move through the crowded terminal concourse. “And Felicity? Your stepmother?” Stein asks. Ronnie tries to get through the crowd of disembarking passengers to his father. “She’s not my stepmother, Professor,” he answers, “She’s Dad’s wife. And that’s…all. Oh, my God.”

Ronnie’s voice trails off as he reaches the window near the jetway gate. He looks down and sees paramedics removing Felicity Smoak from the plane on a stretcher. A medical helicopter waits nearby on the tarmac. “Felicity..!” Ronnie gasps at the sight. He and Professor Stein find their way from the concourse down to tarmac level. Ed Raymond walks with his wife as paramedics load her into the helicopter.

“Dad!” Ronnie yells as he runs out of the terminal. Ed turns to see his son. Ronnie grabs onto his Dad’s arm as he looks worriedly at Felicity. “Dad, what happened?” Ronnie asks quickly, “Your telegram from the plane said Felicity was sick - - maybe dying. I couldn’t believe it. But now…”

Ed Raymond looks anxious and tired from the ordeal. “I - - I don’t know,” he explains, “On the plane back from Brazil…she broke out in a fever…chills…By the time we were approaching New York, she was even worse. A doctor on board notified the Health Service…They arranged…helicopter ambulance…quarantine. The doctor says…he says Felicity is dying.”

Tears start to well in Ed’s eyes as he climbs aboard the helicopter. “I’ve got to go with her,” he tells Ronnie, asking, “You’ll come?” Ronnie nods. “Meet you there. Where..?” A paramedic answers, “Eastside Trauma Center, Manhattan.” Ed settles in his seat. “Ronald,” he says sadly, “…it was our honeymoon…”

The copter’s rotors make an almost human wail. A desperate cry of anguish and disbelief. Fading with distance to silence.

Eastside Trauma Center: “…rare infectious collagen disease, similar in its main effects to rheumatoid arthritis, though far more serious, I’m afraid,” a concerned doctor explains to Ed Raymond. They stand peering through a large window into Felicity’s hospital room where she lies in isolation. An oxygen mask covers her face; IV tubes and EKG wires protrude from her body.

“Inflammation of the joints…synovial membrane…and internal organs, particularly the heart,” the doctor continues, adding, “That’s where the danger lies. Your wife is a young woman, her heart is strong…but it might not be strong enough.”

Ronnie wraps a comforting arm around his Dad’s shoulders. “Is there anything you can do?” Ed asks the doctor. “We have her on corticosteroids. If she survives the next 24 hours, she’ll live,” the doctor explains, adding somberly, “I have to tell you, though. Her chances are less than one in five.”

Ed grows agitated at the ominous prognosis. “That’s it? That’s all?” he blurts, “End of story - - sorry, there’s nothing more we can do?” The doctor thinks a few moments. “Actually…there is a highly experimental treatment for this particular disease, developed at the Los Angeles Medical Center,” he answers, explaining, “We use cobra venom to treat arthritis. The Los Angeles team is working with a serum of snake venom, normally toxic, but the risk…” Ed quickly interrupts. “Call them. Get the serum, for God’s sake,” he pleads.

The doctor walks to the hospital’s red phone on the wall nearby. “All right, I’ll ask them to send us the serum by Air Express,” the doctor replies. He picks up the phone and punches a number into the touch-tone keypad. “The sooner we get it, the better your wife’s chances of survival,” he continues. A voice answers the line. “Operator, get me Doctor Malcolm Monroe at the L.A. Medical Center, stat,” the doctor orders.

Ed stands near the doctor. “Professor Stein..?” Ronnie whispers. “Speed is crucial. Air Express is quite fast, Ronald, but we can get there and back…much faster,” Stein whispers back. “I hoped you’d say that,” Ronnie answers. The two men quickly walk down the corridor. “Let’s move!” Ronnie says determinedly.

End of Prologue

1: One Man’s Poison

Los Angeles. Understand this about the City of Angels and you’ll understand much of what motivates its inhabitants. Los Angeles, as a city of several million souls, just doesn’t belong here. The palms come from Hawaii, the water comes by aqueduct from the north, the people come from around the world. For you see, under the new skyscrapers of downtown…under the palm trees and lawns of Beverly Hills…under the tract homes of the Valley, and the condominiums of Southbay…lies a desert. Life in the desert is hard and rootless, the struggle to survive can be all-consuming. Those who are not consumed by the struggle are changed, nonetheless. Some more than others.

Inside the lab at the Los Angeles Medical Center, two doctors open a Porto-Freeze briefcase, specially designed for shipping medical specimens. A doctor places a vial in the container and…

“Call Doctor Wilson in New York, Peg. Tell him the serum’s packed for shipping,” Dr. Monroe directs his colleague, “We’ll have it on its way to JFK Airport inside a ho - - AAAGGHH!”

Suddenly, a figure in a lab coat leans into the room! His face and skin is snake-like! He aims his right hand, where a snake-head weapon is affixed to his right wrist. FFFFSST! The weapon fires a focused spray of orange liquid that strikes Dr. Monroe at the base of the neck! Dr. Monroe flails wildly in agony. KRAASHH! Dr. Monroe falls back against a table, knocking papers and containers all over. He falls to the floor on his back, gasping.

“Oh, my God, Oh, my God, what do I do?” Peg says with alarm as she watches. “AAAGGGGKKK!” gasps Dr. Monroe. Seconds later, he becomes motionless. “Nothing you can do. He’s dead,” announces the snake-like figure as he walks in, adding, “That stuff works fast.” He closes the Porto-Freeze container and grabs it with a scaly hand. “W-What?” Peg asks, looking at him in shock. “Batrachotoxin. Not really a venom…a whole lot deadlier,” he explains as he turns for the door, “Can you believe it - - it comes from a tropical frog. The kokoi. Nasty little neurotoxin. Not nice like this.”

Peg jumps to her feet and grabs the man’s hand. “What are you doing? You can’t take that - - it’s Doctor Monroe’s serum!” she blurts, pulling on the man’s arm. “I know what is it, Peg. I need it,” he answers. He suddenly turns to her, revealing his snake-like scaly face with its green eyes, elliptical pupils, fangs, and a hissing, forked tongue. Peg shakes with fear as he grabs her throat. “Todd? Oh, God, Todd, d-don’t…” she pleads. He lifts her off the ground slightly, her feet dangling back and forth as she struggles to breathe.

“Who’s going to stop me, Peg? You?” Todd asks angrily. He squeezes his hands tighter. “Get serious,” he continues, “I can snap your neck like a popsicle stick. Just like…this!”

A voice calls out, startling Todd. He wheels his head around to the right to look. Phasing through the wall into the lab is…Firestorm!

“Looks like I fell by just in time. Put the lady down, Jack,” Ronnie orders him, adding, “Don’t make me tell you twice. Whatever you’re doing here, it’s over.” Peg’s eyes roll back in her head. Todd points at Firestorm as he wraps his other arm under Peg’s head. “I know you. I’ve seen you on the TV news,” Todd tells him, asking, “Firestorm, isn’t it? Little far from Pittsburgh, aren’t you?”

Ronnie passes through the wall, floating in the air in the lab. “One last time - - put her down,” he directs. Todd glares at him. “Anything you say,” he snarls. Abruptly he turns and raises Peg. He throws her like a rag doll! SKRASSH! Peg smashes through the lab window and begins to fall!

“Damn!” Ronnie yells, lunging for the broken window as Todd breaks for the door. Ronnie flies out and down, seeing Peg falling headfirst just ahead. “Can’t catch her, Ronald…Use your atomic restructuring powers..!” Stein urges. FZZAAAAM! A nuclear burst rockets from Ronnie’s hand to the sidewalk underneath Peg. The concrete quickly transforms into a soft, brown cushion. Peg lands safely on her back. “By the time we get back upstairs, that guy with the skin condition will be long gone, Professor,” Ronnie says as flies down. “Who was he? What did he want? And where’s Dr. Monroe?” he asks as he lands next to Peg. “Maybe the young woman knows, Ronald,” Stein suggests.

Peg sits up, gasping, lucky to be alive. Ronnie quickly kneels next to her, cradling her back on his knee. She looks at him, wide-eyed, breathing quickly. “…Todd Walton…one of Doctor Monroe’s students in herpetology…But his face…his skin…he’s changed. He looks so awful,” she stutters between rapid breaths. “He killed Doctor Monroe…stole the serum we were packing for New York!” she explains.

He tries to comfort her, but his thoughts are on another woman, far away. He shuts his eyes. And a chill worms down his spine.

2: Chasing the Fever Dream

Todd Walton came to Los Angeles as so many others do. To pursue a dream. He wanted to do something special with his life. He wanted to be special. He wanted to be important. Was that so much to ask?

Todd parks his car on a dirt driveway near an isolated house in the hills. The famous Hollywood sign stands nearby on the Santa Monica Mountains. He gets out of the car carrying the Porto-Freeze case. He walks toward the house where two figures stand in the shadows on the porch. A blue Corvette sits parked on a hill just ahead, facing down toward the house.

“Hello, Todd. Long time no see,” a woman greets him. “Mr. Shark was getting worried about you,” her male companion adds, “He sent us to make sure you’re okay. We’re supposed to remind you, in case you forgot…the latest payment was due three days ago. Mr. Shark wants to speak to you personally.”

Rule of life in the desert: Everyone is afraid of something. Todd Walton is afraid of Mr. Shark.

Suddenly, the Corvette’s engine starts and its headlights come on. “NO!” Todd yells. He raises his right wrist. The small snake-head weapon fires a spray into the face of the man on the porch. “ARRGHHH!” he groans as the liquid splashes onto him. “Mickey..?” the woman says in shock as her companion falls dying into her arms. Todd turns and starts to sprint away.

VVRROOOM! The Corvette accelerates, spraying gravel as it chases Todd down the dusty, dirt road. Todd jumps off the road, tumbling down a grassy ravine. The Corvette screeches to a stop, and two men jump out. They stand at the edge of the ravine, peering down, searching with flashlight beams for their target.

“…Cripes, let’s get out of here. The guy’s gone,” one says after several minutes. “You want to tell Mr. Shark you let Walton kill Mickey with some kinda poison spray-gun and then get away? I don’t,” his colleague answers warily.

A sound below startles them. Rattle! “Hey…What was that?” one asks. “Sounded like a…” the other answers. Rattle-rattle! Suddenly, a rattlesnake appears squirming angrily near their feet!

Rule of life in the hidden desert: Everyone is afraid of something. The two men turn and sprint back to their car and get in quickly. “Rattler…a damn rattler! Get us outta here!” the passenger cries out. “Shouldn’t we go back for Mickey?” the driver asks. “You go back,” the passenger suggests. “Uh, yeah, I get your point,” the driver replies as they speed away, asking, “So what do we tell Mr. Shark? How do we collect Walton’s payment?”

Firestorm arrives at the house as the Corvette races off. Ronnie lands and looks over Mickey’s body. He phases inside the house where cages hold snakes and lab equipment that sits on the tables. On a table, he looks over a photo of a pretty young redhead. He leaps upward, phasing through the roof, and flies off in pursuit of the Corvette.

“Walton knows he can’t come back here,” the passenger answers, suggesting, “But he’s got a girlfriend, right? Six gets you ten he goes to her.” The driver nods. “Sucker bet,” he answers. “Yeah. Walton’s got nowhere else to hide,” the passenger continues, asking, “Say, did you get a look at his face back there?”

Firestorm turns from around a building in the distance, rapidly gaining on the car. “Nah…What about it?” the driver asks. “He looked…weird,” explains the passenger. “Coke-head weird, or what?” asks the driver. Firestorm flies just above the Corvette. “Scaly. And something about his eyes. The skin was all pulled back. His eyes had slits. Like a snake,” the passenger reveals.

Los Angeles International Airport: “I did some checking after I got your call, Ed. The Police tracked down the guy who stole the serum,” explains Ed Raymond’s friend, Jody. The two men stand loading Ed’s suitcase onto Jody’s pickup truck parked outside the terminal. “A research assistant named Todd Walton. The thing is, Walton disappeared while you were flying out here,” Jody continues. He takes a look at his friend. “Ed, hey, maybe you better sit down,” Jody suggests, adding, “You don’t look so good.”

Ed leans against the truck, looking exhausted. “Jody, ever since Felicity and I left Brazil, it’s been one shock after another,” he sighs, “She gets ill…she’s dying…there’s a serum here in L.A., but then it’s stolen…I fly here as fast as I can to help, hating myself for leaving Felicity’s bedside…and now you say the thief has disappeared…”

Jody nods, lifting the last of Ed’s bags into the truck bed. “Yeah, but there’s a sidebar to that story,” Jody answers. “You know I work the Police Beat for the Tribune,” Jody explains, “Friend of mine in Chief Daniel’s office gave me a tip. Walton left another dead body on his doorstep, just before he vanished. A thug named Mickey Souris, works for a heavy-duty bad guy called Mr. Shark. The Police figure Walton was into Shark for some serious money. Shark may have a line on where we can find Walton.”

The two men climb into the truck. “It’s a slim lead, Jody,” Ed replies. Jody puts the truck in gear and guides them into the traffic. “Hey, like an old reporter pal of mine named Raymond used to say…’No lead is ever too slim, if you’re hot,’” Jody answers, adding, “And we’re hot, Ed. Hot as a fever ready to break.”

Interlude. Felicity Smoak restlessly turns in her bed. First the tips of her fingers caught fire. Next the flames spread to the bones of her arms…then jumped to her legs…and raced inward like hot breath to her lungs. Her body is a mass of fire…and she burns.

3: Pretty Teeth

Bel Air. Heart of the myth of the hidden desert. Locus of the fever dream. Ed and Jody walk towards the backyard of a posh estate where people frolic at a swanky pool party.

“Stay close. My turf,” Jody nods to Ed. “Shark - - ?” Ed asks as he scans the crowd just ahead. “His place. His party. The man likes people. What can I tell you?” Jody answers.

A woman approaches them, martini glass in hand. “Jody, lover,” she greets him, asking, “Settle a bet, will you, dear? You know all those awful crime statistics. Who murdered more women…the Hillside Strangler or the Freeway Killer?” Jody smiles at her, answering, “Mae, lover…The Freeway Killer murdered men, not women.” Mae turns to a friend. “What did I tell you?” she gloats playfully.

“Mae, my sweet,” Jody asks, “where’s our well-bred host this evening? In or out?” Mae turns back to him, answering, “Out, darling. By the pool with Doug and Larry.” She gestures toward the backyard and returns to her friends. “Lover?” Ed whispers. “Mae and I go back a few years,” Jody explains, “Reporter’s Lesson Number whatever, Ed…Out here, the best contacts are the ones you make at night.”

They walk around to the pool area. Three men sit at a patio table just ahead. Its umbrella shields them from the sun as two guards stand close watch. “My God,” Ed says softly as he sees the men. “Yeah. If you ever wondered what happened to the court of the Sun King, now you know,” Jody replies, adding, “That, my friend, is Mr. Shark.”

Mr. Shark sips his drink and stares at the two men seated across from him. “Donald, I’m disappointed. Mr. Walton owes me a great deal of money. You and Mickey were sent out to collect it. Now you tell me Mickey’s dead…and I still don’t have my money, or Mr. Walton and his discovery. Shark reaches for an orange and begins to peel it. “What am I going to do with you?” he asks.

Donald looks at Mr. Shark, nervously rubbing his hands together. “Walton’s woman, Mr. Shark,” he suggests, “Brittany Drake. She’ll know where to find him. We were going to go to her place out in Topanga, but we wanted to check with you first.” Shark nods, answering, “To get my permission? I expect more initiative from the people who work for me, Donald. From now on, Doug and Larry will handle the collecting chores under my direct supervision.” Shark nods at the two men standing behind him. “Doug, get the Mercedes. We’ll pay Ms. Drake a visit.”

Ed and Jody approach Shark’s table. “Mind if we come along?” Ed asks. Shark and his men turn to face them, a bit surprised at the unexpected intrusion. “I have a personal interest in Mr. Walton’s well-being. He’s got something I want,” Ed explains. Shark continues with his orange. “Really. And that is - - ?” he asks. Jody pokes Ed, whispering, “Ed, shut up…” Ed continues to Shark, “A serum of snake venom. My wife’s dying, and the serum may be her only chance to live. Walton stole it. I don’t know why.”

Shark leans towards Ed. “Shall I tell you why?” he answers, explaining, “Our friend Mr. Walton is an extremely greedy, extremely ambitious, extremely foolish young man. He is…or was a research fellow in herpetology, the study of snakes. Does it get clearer?”

Ed shakes his head. “No? Then let me explain,” Shark continues, “Young Mr. Walton borrowed money from me to finance his experiments. He had a theory that certain kinds of snake venom could be processed into a nontoxic painkiller. Don’t ask me how, I’m not a scientist. Neither, it would seem, was Mr. Walton.”

Shark removes the last of the orange peel. “He foresaw a non-addictive painkiller more potent than heroin. Call it Venom-X. What he got was something quite different,” he proceeds, “Nontoxic, yes, in small quantities…yet highly addictive.” He breaks off an orange slice and tosses it in his mouth. “A single injection of Venom-X creates an instant addiction,” Shark continues, “And, if my man Donald is right, it seems there are other interesting side effects peculiar to the drug. Scaling of the skin. Increased strength. Who knows what else? I imagine our Mr. Walton stole your wife’s serum looking for a cure. Quite hopeless.”

Shark gets up and buttons his suit coat. “Even if the serum cures him, it’ll do him no good. I’ve decided I want more than my money and interest from Mr. Walton,” he reveals, adding, “I want Venom-X. Think of the possibilities. A new addictive drug…not even banned by the FDA. With it, I could double my fortune.”

The two other men get up from the table as Shark walks off toward his guests. “Donald, redeem yourself. Take Jody and his friend for a drive. Don’t bring them back.” Shark orders his men. Donald and his partner quickly pull out their pistols, leveling them at Ed and Jody. “Thank you, Mr. Shark!” Donald exclaims with relief, “Thank you!”

Donald nods them toward a path. Jody and Ed begin walking down the path away from the pool party. Donald and his partner follow close behind. “Ed, if we live through this, next time let me ask the questions. You seem to irritate people,” Jody whispers. They walk down the path, passing through a gate to the sidewalk where a blue Corvette is parked.

“Do you believe this?” Ronnie asks. Firestorm floats above the house, watching his Dad enter the car at gunpoint. “I do everything right. I follow Shark’s men to his house,” Ronnie tells Stein, “I hide on the roof where nobody spots me. I listen. I don’t do anything rash. And just when it looks like we’ve got a solid lead to find this guy Walton…my Dad shows up!” He smacks his forehead in frustration, asking, “Why? I ask you, why?”

Two vehicles start to depart the estate. “Which do we follow, Ronald?” Stein asks, “The Mercedes carrying Mr. Shark? Or the Corvette bearing your father and his friend?” Ronnie glances at both vehicles driving off in different directions. “You’re asking me?” Ronnie answers, adding, “If I go after Dad, we lose the serum that could save Felicity’s life…but if I go after Mr. Shark, Dad gets killed.” Stein tells Ronnie what he already knows. “We both know you don’t have a choice,” Stein answers. Ronnie sets off tailing the Corvette. “Yeah,” he answers, “He’s my father…”

4: Fear City

Mulholland Drive, in the mountains between the San Fernando Valley and Beverly Hills. A desert road through barren hills, named after a man who brought water to Los Angeles half a century ago.

“Nice view, huh?” Donald asks, “Me and the Missus always wanted to buy a house up here.” Ed and Jody stand at a bend in the road, illuminated by the Corvette’s headlight. Their backs are turned to the Los Angeles skyline in the distance. They stand with arms raised at the edge of a steep cliff. “Why didn’t you?” Ed asks. Donald grins, holding his pistol steadily aimed at the two men. “Too many snakes. Snakes give me the creeps,” Donald explains, “On top of that, the Missus can’t stand heights. But I guess everybody’s scared of something, right?”

He gestures to them with his gun. “Go on, get closer to the edge.” Ed and Jody gingerly take a slight step back. “You can’t do this,” Ed answers, “Somebody’s bound to come along…” Yellow and orange light appears just behind the Corvette as Donald interrupts him. “This time of night? On Mulholland?” he scoffs, “Maybe a couple of kids drag-racing, but that’s it. Face facts. You’re meat.”

FZZAAM! A beam of atomic light hits Donald’s pistol! Instantly, it transforms into a rattlesnake poised to strike! “Sweet - - GEEEEZZ!” Donald blurts in shock. Rattle! The snake writhes in his hand with fangs at ready! Donald drops the snake and lunges back. His momentum inadvertently propels him into his thug partner and they both fall over the side!

“YAYAAHHA!” Donald screams as he plunges. Ed and Jody watch in shock as Firestorm suddenly appears. “Hi. Back in a minute,” Ronnie tells them casually as he flies over the canyon edge in pursuit of the falling men.

FZZAAM! Ronnie uses a restructuring burst to reform a section of the canyon wall into a large net. It springs out and catches the falling gangsters! “You guys comfy, or what?” Firestorm asks as he flies up down to them. “Where’d this ?@*#*$ net come from - - ?” Donald blurts in shock. “Just something I whipped up?” Ronnie answers. “Of course, if you’d rather I got rid of it…” he suggests. Both men in the net quickly wave and shake their heads. “No! No! Don’t do that! No, it’s fine!” Donald cries out anxiously. “Wonderful, terrific! Really, just perfect!” his partner nervously concurs.

Ronnie starts to fly back up to the edge. “I knew you’d like it if you gave it a chance,” Ronnie answers.” Donald looks up, watching Firestorm go. “You’re not gonna leave us here - - ?” he asks warily. “Yep,” Ronnie nods. “But what about snakes?” Donald asks wide-eyed, clutching at the net. “Happy to oblige,” Ronnie calls down. FZZAAM! FZAAM! FZAAM! FZAAM! FZZAM! Instantly, the net’s ropes turn into dozens of coiled rattlesnakes! “S-S-Sn-Sna - - AAAHHHH!” Donald screams.

Ronnie lands back at the road as Ed and Jody make their way to the Corvette. “Hi, there. Where are you boys off to?” Ronnie asks. “Firestorm, right?” Jody answers, adding, “Thanks for the help, but the thing is…” Ed continues the explanation. “My wife’s dying, and the only man who can save her is somewhere in Topanga Canyon. We don’t know where…”

Jody puts the car in gear and they start back to the city. “Remember what Shark said? Walton’s with a woman named Brittany Drake. She’a an actress, just breaking in. I know her agent. Get me a phone, he’ll give me her address.” Ronnie hovers above them. “So what are we waiting for?” he calls down.

FZZAM! Instantly, two gigantic bird’s wings appear on either side of the Corvette. “Let’s fly!” Ronnie tells them, guiding the stunned men skyward in the car with a nuclear tow beam. VVVVRROOOOM!

Topanga Canyon. Halfway between two worlds, the Valley and Malibu, yet in a world of its own. As close to rustic as you can get in the greater Los Angeles area…

“I hope you weren’t lying when you told Mr. Shark where to find your boyfriend. If you did lie, he’ll be mad. You don’t want to see him mad,” one of Shark’s thugs tells a young woman. She sits on a couch in the study of a large, secluded house. A fire roars in the fireplace as the thug pours himself a glass of wine. She writhes in discomfort, sweating profusely.

“Pl-Please…I’m sick. I need a doctor,” Brittany Drake groans, “Todd game me a shot. It felt so good…but now it hurts.” The thug sips his wine as he watches her suffer. “Not for long, it won’t” he answers as he pulls out his pistol, adding, “Once Mr. Shark finds Walton, he’ll give me a call. Then I’ll take care of your pain…with my aspirin-free painkiller. A little lead pill between the eyes.”

Firestorm suddenly emerges out of the fireplace! “Creep,” he snarls at the man. FZZAAMM! A nuclear restructuring burst weakens the floor right underneath the thug. KRR-ASH! “YAAHH!” he cries in shock as he falls through.

“What…?” Brittany says softly. Ronnie rushes next to her. Ed and Jody rush in the front door. “Walton must’ve given her a shot of Venom-X. She’s in bad shape,” Ronnie tells them as they run into the room. “Aw, the poor kid…” Jody answers. “Ask her about Walton - - the serum,” Ed quickly directs.

Brittany looks up at them, clutching at her abdomen with both hands. Beads of sweat run down her face. “Todd…he’s at the Snake House. I didn’t want to tell those men. But they said they’d stop the pain,” she tells them. “Why did he do it, Ms. Drake? Why did Walton inject you?” Ronnie asks. “I asked him to do it. All the time, I’m so afraid of everything,” she continues, “He told me I wouldn’t be scare anymore. I wanted the fear to go away…just go away…” She slumps down in front of the couch, bending herself over her knees in discomfort as Ronnie, Ed, and Jody sadly look on.

5: Serpentine

The Los Angeles Zoo at Griffith Park. A few minutes before dawn. The Snake House. Mr. Shark walks into the exhibit, lighting a cigarette. One of his henchmen follows closely, using a flashlight to guide their path.

“Walton…we have your woman. We have Ms. Drake. So don’t be foolish. All I want is what’s mine,” Shark calls out, “You can’t hide anymore. Why don’t you come out…where I can see you?” Shark takes a long drag on his cigarette. He blows the smoke through his smiling teeth, looking around at the large glass enclosures of the various snake displays.

KRRRASH! Suddenly, a monstrous snake-like humanoid figure bursts out! Snakes fly onto the horrified men as Todd Walton, or what used to be Todd Walton, emerges with the Porto-Freeze case in one hand. “YAAAAHH!” screams Shark’s guard in terror.

Dawn. A desert dawn, weak and pale…soon to brighten into blistering day…but for the moment, cold as a new grave…

Firestorm lands at the Los Angeles Zoo. He carried both Ed and Jody under his arms, and releases them to the ground as they come down. “She said ‘Snake House,’ right?” Jody asks, adding, “Figures. Walton is supposed to be a herpetologist. This place must be his second home.” Ronnie looks over the Snake House. “Listen…you hear anything?” he asks. “No,” Ed answers as the three men walk to the door. “Shark’s Mercedes was down in the lot. He’d have to be here by now. We should hear voices,” Ronnie observes. He reaches for the door handle. “I’ve got a bad feeling about…”

SWHAM! The door blasts open! Walton smashes the Proto-Freeze case into Ronnie’s head and blasts past the surprised men! Ronnie shakes off the blow and leaps skyward. “He’s got the serum. I’ll catch him. You watch out for Shark,” he calls down. Ed and Jody look inside the Snake House where Shark and his guard lie dead on the floor. “Sure…We’ll do that…” Ed answers softly.

“He went into these trees, Ronald,” Stein directs, “Heading up the hillside. Away from the Zoo.” Ronnie flies just above the tree tops, trying to pick up Walton’s path. “So many places to hide. How can I find him, Professor?” he asks.

FSSTT! Ronnie lunges back, just dodging out of the way of Walton’s venom spray gun! “I think he’s found us, my boy,” Stein says anxiously. Ronnie looks ahead, seeing Walton scaling a sheer rock face. “There he is, Professor,” he explains, “Climbing up the hill to Griffith Observatory. We’ve got him…”

Ronnie launches towards the Observatory as Walton reaches the summit of the hill. “Perhaps. But, Ronald, he could have escaped into the trees,” Stein answers, asking, “Why attract our attention? Why expose himself here?” Ronnie rapidly approaches. “He’s crazy, Professor. That stuff he injected himself with drove him insane,” he replies.

Walton runs around a building corner, clinging horizontally to it as he moves. “Insane, yes. Stupid, no,” Stein cautions, “Ronald, don’t you see? He wants us to follow, to get close! We’re flying into a - - TRAP!”

Walton abruptly doubles back, popping out in front of Ronnie. FSST! He launches a venom burst from his wrist weapon. Instantly, a cloud of pink liquid hits Ronnie’s face, bursting into a small vapor cloud! Ronnie doubles back, clutching with both hands at his face! “AAAGGG!” he yells out, “Walton, my God - - my eyes!”

Ronnie falls back to the ground in agony, eyes burning terribly from the noxious venom. Walton crawls head first down the building’s surface, pausing a few feet above ground. “Don’t call me Walton. Call me Venom,” he calls to Firestorm, asking, “It hurts doesn’t it? It could have been the Batrachotoxin I used to kill Monroe. But it isn’t. I don’t want to kill anymore. This is better.”

Venom steps off the building and walks next to Firestorm. “Venom-X,” he says with a smile, adding, “Sorry about the pain. It’s not supposed to go in the eyes. Injected into a vein, Venom-X gives quite a rush. You forget your fear. This is a desert, you see…A desert hiding under a dream. The desert makes you afraid. The desert under the dream. People don’t belong here. Snakes do. They like the desert. They belong.”

Venom stands with the Porto-Freeze case held high over his head in both hands. Ronnie twists and turns, rubbing at his eyes. “Yesterday, I wanted a cure. That’s why I stole Monroe’s serum. I didn’t understand the power I have. I was still afraid,” Venom explains, “I never knew how afraid I was until I lost my fear. It happened last night with Brittany. She was so afraid. I gave her a shot of Venom-X to fight the fear. She thanked me. Thanked me! That’s when I saw the power I have. Now I’m not afraid of the desert anymore. I belong.”

Venom smiles down at Firestorm as he holds the Porto-Freeze case in front of him. “You’d be surprised what you can do when you’re not afraid,” he continues, “Killing Mr. Shark was easy. Leading you here, so simple. I feel good about this. I want everyone to share my power. The power of the desert. The dream under the dream.” He kneels down. “Starting with you…” he says forebodingly.

6: The Desert in Men’s Souls

He’s afraid. In the secret places of his heart he has always been afraid. Now he must confront his fear…or his fear will surely destroy him.

“YAAAHH!” Ronnie cries out. He stands in a stark landscape, rubbing at his still-burning eyes. A giant snake creature towers over him. Ronnie turns to face it.

“Welcome to the desert beneath the dream, Firestorm,” the snake tells him, “Here’s the secret of desert survival: Something you always feared turns out to be true. No matter what you believe, when the chips are down…you have no friends. In the desert, you’re all alone. No one knows you. No one helps you. No one cares whether you live or die!”

Ronnie grits his teeth tightly, struggling to see through his blurred vision. The snake creature coils around him. KRASSH! It slams him down on the ground. “Felicity…she’s dying…” Ronnie calls out, weakened by the poison. “Let her die,” the snake answers. “She’s nothing. You’re nothing. That’s the desert secret,” it says coldly, “People don’t matter. People are food. If she dies, so what? Nobody cares.” Ronnie focuses on the snake. “Wrong. I care.” Ronnie attacks the snake with a vicious assault!

He hurts. He hears Venom’s voice inside him. Part of it is his voice too. ‘People don’t matter. Let her die.’

Ronnie stands over the snake’s body, still smoldering from his attack. He feels around for something. Finding it, he starts to walk away. His vision is cloudy. His sight sees swirling lines like a storm blowing gale-force winds around him. He staggers, somehow finding his way back to the Observatory. Ed Raymond and Jody suddenly see him from inside. Ronnie holds out a container in his hand. He stumbles and falls, collapsing under the effect of the venom coursing through his veins.

Epilogue

Five hours by jet to JFK. Fifteen minutes by helicopter to Manhattan. Every minute is precious. Every second steals a beat from Ed Raymond’s heart.

“Ed...?” Felicity Smoak asks softly as her eyes slowly open. She lies in her hospital bed as a nurse tends to her. Ed holds her hand. He looks down at her, smiling. “It’s me, Felicity,” he answers, “You’re going to be all right. We got Monroe’s serum to you in time…thanks to Firestorm.”

The Nuclear Man stands behind Ed. He waves. His right arm is bound to his side with a sling, and an IV feeds an antidote into his arm. “Hiya,” Ronnie greets her. Felicity smiles up at him. “After all the trouble I caused you...Taking you to court, suing you for ‘malpractice’…you saved my life. Why?” she asks. Ronnie grins at her. “A guy I met in L.A. thinks the world is a rotten place…where people eat each other to survive. He says people don’t matter. ‘Nobody cares, nobody helps,’” Ronnie explains, adding, “I don’t agree. Get well quick, you hear?” Ronnie turns to leave. “I hear,” Felicity answers, “And thank you.”

Ronnie walks out of the room, towing his IV pole along behind him. A doctor approaches him. “That man Walton was right…Monroe’s serum is a cure for Venom-X addiction, as well as Mrs. Raymond’s disease,” the doctor tells him. “Lucky me. And lucky Brittany Drake,” Ronnie answers, asking, “How long do I have to tug this IV bottle around, Doc?” The doctor looks him over, thinking for a moment. “You should stay for a few days observation - - but the truth is, you seem completely recovered. You must have a remarkable constitution,” the doctor explains. “Wait till you see my X-rays,” Ronnie answers as he removes the IV from his arm, “Thanks for your help, Doc. See you around.”

Ronnie lowers his atomic density and launches upward, phasing through the hospital roof into the sky. “A busy twelve hours, Ronald,” Stein comments, adding, “But I have a feeling you’re not ready to go home to Pittsburgh quite yet.” Ronnie turns them sharply, phasing them back inside a different section of the building.

FZZAAMM! Instantly, Ronnie Raymond and Professor Martin Stein step out of Firestorm in the now-familiar transformation. “Firestorm may be finished here, Professor,” Ronnie answers as they separate, “but not Ronnie Raymond. Felicity is still pretty sick. My Dad needs me…and so does my Mom.” Stein touches Ronnie’s shoulder as Ronnie walks back into Felicity’s room.

People matter. People care. The desert blooms.

The End