Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Vic lowered his arm. Shazam stepped forward out of the dust, bright red and ridiculous and the most welcome sight Wally had seen all morning. “Hey guys,” he said. “You look like you could use a hand.”

So he knew, rationally, who – what – Shazam actually was. So they still needed to have an actual conversation about the whole thing. So probably, if he was gonna be honest, Shazam shouldn’t have been there at all.

None of that had stopped his rush of relief on seeing that glowing lightning bolt.

“Shazam!” Closing the distance between them he threw his arms around Shazam’s broad shoulders. “Good to see you, buddy.”

“You too, Flash.” He seemed startled at being hugged. He was rigid in Wally’s arms. Wally stepped back, kind of embarrassed.

Vic was coming to join them, stepping carefully around the remains of the minotaur. “Is it dead?”

Shazam looked at the broken chunks of clay on the ground. “Oh, yeah.”

Vic shifted his arm back to normal. “Thanks for your help.”

“Any time,” said Shazam. “Who else is out?”

“Just us and the Batman,” said Wally.

“Who is – AWOL,” said Vic. “We got at least two more, assuming this guy’s really dead.”

“Oh, he’s super dead.” Shazam nodded at what was left of the minotaur, still smoking. “Magic’s all burned out. Trust me.”

“If you say so,” said Wally. They’d had no contact with Shazam since Chicago. He’d elected to believe that no news was good news. Shazam, he reflected as he looked him up and down, seemed fine, so he’d probably been right – “Shazam,” he said. “My guy. Are you wearing a fanny pack?”

Shazam glanced down at himself. “Tactical upgrade.”

Wally set a hand on his shoulder. He said, “It’s a fanny pack.”

Motioning at it Shazam said, “I got snacks in here.”

Something was coming down on them. On reflex Wally darted out of the way and a split second later Shazam went back and up, springing into the air like a startled cat – just as a car smashed into the ground, barely missing Vic.

“Whoa!” Vic yelped.

The giant bird was wheeling overhead, shedding dust like ash, crying out like an angry vulture. Shazam slung a burst of lighting at it but only managed to clip its wing. With a screech it darted up and away.

“That the thing that grabbed you?” said Vic.

“I think so.” Wally breathed out. It was gone, for now. They had a moment to catch their breaths.

A thought crossed his mind. He turned to Shazam. “Hey, kid!”

“Yeah?” said Shazam, hovering twenty feet in the air.

“It’s like one thirty on a Wednesday,” Wally said. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

“So I’m cutting class,” said Shazam with a shrug. “You got a problem with that?”

There was a shriek overhead and yet another car came tumbling out of the air towards him – but before they could even call out a warning Shazam spun lightning-fast in the air and caught it by the bumper.

“Phew!” he said.

He was just floating up there, holding onto a whole-ass car like it was nothing. Wally glanced at Vic. Vic said, “You good?”

“Yeah,” said Shazam. He didn’t even sound strained. Super strength was wack. “I got it,” he added, lowering the car to the ground.

The bird was still overhead, wheeling about, looking for more ammo. Shazam looked up at it; Wally couldn’t make out the expression on his face. The sun was behind him. Rising upwards, he said, “I got this.”

“You sure –” Wally began.

Vic laid a hand on his arm. “He’s got it handled,” he said. “C’mon. Let’s go find your scorpion.”

Shazam was waiting for them when they got back to the Watchtower, his feet up on the meeting room table and the most shit eating grin on his face.

“You look so pleased with yourself,” said Wally, his hands on his hips.

“You get the last one?” said Shazam. “Then I’d say that went pretty well.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Wally. “Look, I’m sorry, but I gotta ask. Do your foster parents know where you are right now?”

“Oh – no,” said Shazam. “No, I’m gonna be super grounded when I get home.” He spread his hands. “Worth it.”

“You didn’t have to get in trouble on our account,” Vic said. “We had it covered –”

Shazam took his feet off the table in a swift and abrupt movement. “Okay, first off, you guys were getting your butts kicked till I showed up,” he said. “And also that’s not why I came out.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Wally.

But before Shazam could elaborate a white light flashed on the screen, and blinked on. “Batman to Watchtower.”

“Bats!” Wally dove halfway across the table in his haste to get at the receiver. “Hey! You’re alive? How are ya?”

“Of course I’m alive,” said the Batman.

“We were getting worried,” said Vic, joining Wally by the table.

“I have business to attend to in Gotham,” said the Batman. “Do you have anything to report?”

Wally and Vic exchanged a look.

“Uh,” said Wally. “We have Shazam up here.”

“Hi Batman,” said Shazam.

“Shazam,” said Batman crisply.

“I got something I need to tell you, sir,” said Shazam.

“I’m on my way.” Batman’s light blinked out.

The meeting room was quiet.

“Sooo how are you guys?” said Shazam.

“Pretty good,” said Vic.

“Can’t complain,” said Wally. “How about you?”

“So-so,” said Shazam.

They lapsed back into silence.

“So,” said Vic, “how’d you wind up in foster care?”

Shazam’s smile didn’t waver. “Wow, that’s a really personal question,” he said. “That’s really rude.” He motioned at Vic’s torso. “How would you like it if I asked you how you ended up all – like that.”

“Car accident,” said Vic.

“Okay, but you telling me that doesn’t mean I gotta tell you my whole life story,” said Shazam. “You get that, right? You see how that works?”

“No, I get it,” said Vic.

“Cause it really isn’t any of your business,” said Shazam.

“I get it,” said Vic again. “Forget I asked. I was just – I’m sorry.”

Wally got why he’d asked. Sure, it was kind of an invasive question, but it wasn’t like they were strangers. They’d known Shazam for months. He was curious too.

Or, not curious so much as concerned. There were a lot of different reasons a teenager might be in foster care and none of them were exactly nice. So yeah, he was concerned. He wanted to know if he should be concerned.

“Look – kid,” said Vic. “I just wanted to say. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You mean this?” said Shazam, motioning at his own body, his smile still not wavering. “Don’t be. I’m not.”

Vic didn’t answer. Most likely he wasn’t sure what to say to that. No-one was talking. Wally smacked his lips, and decided now was as good a time as any.

“Can I just,” he said to Shazam. “Can I get something off my chest real quick?”

“Sure,” said Shazam. “I’m all ears.”

“Okay, don’t get me wrong,” said Wally. “I’m real grateful you came out today, and yeah, you probably just saved both our asses. And also, I get why you didn’t tell us who you were, you know? I was fourteen once, and –”

“Cut to the chase, Wally,” Vic interrupted.

“Okay,” said Wally. “Okay! I just wanna say, I’m still kind of mad at you for lying to us.”

“Okay,” said Shazam, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Okay, but to be fair, I never technically lied to you guys.”

Wally leaned on the table, trying to be casual about it. He said, “do you know what a lie of omission is?”

“Yeah, I know what a lie of omission is,” said Shazam. “I’m not that dumb. I just don’t think that applies here considering we all have secret identities.”

“I don’t,” said Vic.

“Vic doesn’t,” said Wally.

“Also one time I asked you how old you were and you told me you were thirty-five,” said Vic.

“Did I?” Shazam chuckled. “Okay I don’t remember that but it does sound like something I’d say. I’m real sorry, man.”

“I’m not even mad about that one, I’m just confused,” said Vic. “I figured you were lying, I just thought you were, you know. Lowballing.”

“What?” said Shazam.

Vic changed the subject. “So you’re, what, in high school?”

“Freshman,” said Shazam.

“How’d you been handling school and being in the League?” said Vic. “Sounds like a lot.”

“I’m gonna level with you,” said Shazam. “There’s a lot of Red Bull involved.”

“Yikes,” said Vic.

“It’s not that hard,” said Wally. “Some of us have day jobs, y’know.”

“Didn’t you get laid off?” said Vic.

“I –”

“You got laid off like two months ago, right?”

“Yeah, okay, but,” said Wally. “That wasn’t cause of being the Flash. They had – budget cuts. Shut the fuck up. We’re getting off track. The point is, you should have told us,” he said to Shazam.

“Why?” said Shazam.

“Okay, Shazam, I really hate to say this,” said Vic before Wally could answer. “But you’re not a little kid. You’re old enough to understand that this puts us all in a really difficult position and I think you know why we’re mad.”

“So what you’re saying is I’m old enough to know better?”

“Essentially,” said Vic. “Yeah.”

“What we’re saying is, you didn’t tell us because you knew we wouldn’t like it,” said Wally.

“Okay.” Shazam put up his hands as if in surrender. “Okay! I’m not gonna lie to you guys. That’s part of why I didn’t tell you, but it’s not like it’s the only reason.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Vic dubiously. “What were the other reasons?”

“A whole bunch of different stuff,” said Shazam.

“Uh-huh,” said Vic.

“The whole superhero thing’s put my family in danger once already,” said Shazam. “So yeah, I wanted to keep things under wraps. Sue me.”

Wally glanced at Vic. Vic met his eyes. For a moment neither of them spoke.

He said, “You got brothers and sisters?”

“Yeah,” said Shazam. He didn’t elaborate.

“If you were worried about their safety you should have told us,” said Vic. “We could have helped.”

“I’d just met you guys.”

It was on the tip of Wally’s tongue to say that was dumb, because they all trusted each other – they’d all agreed to trust each other, when they’d joined the League – but then, he supposed, most of them had known each other at least a little when they’d started out. They’d been acquainted – acquaintances of acquaintances, bare minimum. To Shazam they’d been a bunch of strangers.

And he was pretty sure none of them had family situations that were as – vulnerable, as Shazam’s must be. He didn’t think anyone in the League had kids at home.

Not that he’d ever asked.

Tapping his hand decisively on the table, Shazam got up to join them. “It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah it is,” said Wally.

“It really is,” said Vic.

“It doesn’t have to be,” said Shazam.

“Alright, look,” said Wally. “Look. Leaving aside the whole question of whether it’s appropriate for you to be in the League in the first place, there’s just, ah –”

“There’s what?”

“There are,” Wally said. “Certain. Boundaries. We would have set out with you, if we’d known how old you were. Do you get my drift?”

Shazam shook his head. “Not really.”

“There’s, you know,” said Wally. “Some topics, that, that – stuff that’s kind of inappropriate, to –”

“He’s upset cause he talked to you about his sex life,” Vic interrupted. Wally shot him a look. He’d been trying to avoid saying it in as many words.

“What?” said Shazam. “Why?”

“It’s just – it’s weird,” said Wally. “I don’t know if I made things weird or you made things weird, but someone made things weird.”

“I don’t see how,” said Shazam. “It’s not like I minded.”

“Well, I mind!”

“I’d totally talk to you about my sex life,” said Shazam. “If I had one.”

“Okay.” Wally breathed out, and stepping closer slung his arm around Shazam’s shoulders. “Kid. I am gonna be frank with you. No matter how our relationship may develop in the future, I am never gonna want to hear about your sex life.” He prodded Shazam’s unreasonably muscled chest. “Capisce?”

“That seems kind of harsh,” said Shazam. “It’s not like I’ll be fourteen forever.”

“Yeah, but I’ll always have known you when you were fourteen,” said Wally. He patted Shazam’s chest. “You get me?”

Shazam screwed up his face. “Not really.”

“Okay, you know what?” said Wally, jabbing a finger at him. “It, it doesn’t actually matter if you understand this or not. I’m laying down a boundary here. We are never gonna talk about this again, understood?”

“Sure.” Shazam shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Great.” Wally patted his chest once more for emphasis and released him.

“Cool,” said Shazam. “Hey Vic, what do you mean you thought I was lowballing? You thought I was older?”

“Well – yeah,” said Vic.

“I think we all kind of figured you weren’t human,” said Wally.

“Really?”

“You didn’t know?”

“Is that why you were asking me if I was an alien?” said Shazam. “I thought you were kidding.”

“We figured you probably weren’t an alien,” said Vic.

“Then what did you think?” said Shazam.

“We just figured you were immortal or something,” said Wally.

“You did?” Shazam said. “Why?”

“Power set, behaviour, general vibes,” said Vic. “Hey, can I offer you some advice?”

Shazam shrugged. “Sure.”

“If I were you I’d lean into the ancient immortal being thing,” said Vic. “It’d make your life a lot easier.”

“What? Why?” said Shazam.

“Help me out here,” said Vic to Wally.

“How do I put this,” Wally said. “It’s, uh. If a person talks to you for any length of time it’s really obvious that you’re not an adult human man?”

“What?” said Shazam. “It is not!!

“It really is,” said Vic. “Sorry, man. You got real weird vibes.”

“Not in a bad way!” Wally threw up his hands. “You have good vibes, don’t worry. Just weird.”

Shazam jabbed a finger at them. “I pass as an adult just fine.”

“Yeah, you uh,” said Wally. “You look like a grown man so no sane person is ever gonna think you’re a kid, but –”

Before he could go on – and if he was going to be honest, before he could cause any more offense than he already had – a zeta tube activated behind them.

“Recognised – Batman,” announced the Watchtower.

“Speak of the devil,” said Vic.

“What?” said Shazam.

“Cyborg,” said the Batman, sweeping into the meeting room. “Flash.”

“Hey, good to see you!” said Wally.

“Where were you?” said Vic.

“Subway system,” said the Batman, not breaking his stride.

“Subway?” said Vic. “What was on the subway?”

“Sphinx,” said the Batman.

“A sphinx?” said Wally, baffled.

“Is it –” said Vic.

“Handled.” The Batman reached the meeting table. “Shazam. Good to have you back.”

“Good to be back, sir.” Shazam saluted him.

“How are you?”

“Physically or emotionally?” said Shazam. The Bat’s face didn’t so much as twitch. “I’m just fine.” He motioned at his chest. “Ribs all – non-broken. Just as ordered.”

“Good,” said the Batman tonelessly.

“You know what I love about this guy?” said Wally, jerking his head at him. “How warm and caring he is.”

The Batman fixed him with a steely, opaque glare.

“I’m kidding,” said Wally. “I’m just kidding.”

The Batman didn’t let up. His eyes narrowed. In spite of the mask his gaze somehow grew more intense. This, Wally thought, was what the perps he dealt with experienced – right before the screaming started.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. Please don’t get mad.”

The Bat looked away. “I take it you handled the rest.”

“Yep,” said Vic. “All quiet now.”

“Good,” said the Batman. He turned to Shazam. “What did you want to tell me?”

“Oh, yeah – that.” Shazam straightened up almost to his full height. “I know where the Axe of Sarpedon is.”

“Wait, for real?” said Vic.

“Where is it?” said Wally.

“How’d you find it?”

“Why didn’t you –”

“Okay – okay,” said Shazam, holding up his hands to silence them. “Just so we’re clear, I don’t know who has it. I don’t know how they got it. I don’t know why they’re doing this. I just know where it is. Like, geographically.”

“Do you have co-ordinates?” said Vic.

“No,” said Shazam. “But I can show you on a map.”

Half a minute later, they were gathered around a map projected on the meeting room table – looking at it, Wally thought, with at least a smidge incredulity on all fronts.

He said, “An amusement park?”

Shazam nodded. “Yeah?”

“Are you sure?” said Vic, tactfully dubious.

“Oh, yeah,” said Shazam. “I mean, I’m pretty sure. I’m mostly sure. I’m like – eighty seven per cent sure.”

“A whole eighty seven per cent?” said Wally, leaning half-sprawled on the table.

Shazam waggled a hand. “Ish.”

“Could you explain your reasoning?” said the Batman.

“I can try.” Shazam put his hand to his mouth in thought. “Okay. Okay, so the monsters we’ve been dealing with, they have a kind of – resonance. It hangs around for a while after they’re dead.”

“A resonance?” said Vic.

“A magical one, yeah,” said Shazam, as if that made perfect sense. “Anyway, I figured since the attacks have all been in the north east the axe was probably around there somewhere –”

“Checks out,” said Wally. They’d been thinking the same thing.

“So I figured I’d fly around till I found an area with the same resonance.” Shazam motioned at the map. “And here it is. Boo-yah.”

“You can sense magic?” Vic asked.

Shazam shrugged. “Apparently – yeah.”

“And the amusement part definitely has this resonance?” said Wally.

“Oh, yeah – all around the whole area,” said Shazam. “Mostly inside the fence. I went back a couple of days in a row and it’s like that all the time.”

“Uh-huh,” said Wally. “How long did it take you to find it?”

“Couple of weeks,” said Shazam. “Honestly thought it would take longer. I guess I lucked out.” He glanced up from the maps, and belatedly clocked their dubious expressions. “Look,” he said. “I’m not one hundred per cent sure the axe is down there, but there’s something in there with the same resonance and it sure doesn’t look like it’s being attacked by monsters. It’s worth checking out, right?”

Wally shrugged. “What do you think?” he said to the others.

“I think it’s the only lead we’ve got right now,” said Vic.

Tracing the sale of the axe had been a bust. The trail had gone cold weeks ago. Whoever had it had done a good job at covering their tracks. No digital paper trail. Must’ve paid in cash – bought it in person. Sometimes the simplest, stupidest things could be the smartest.

It was a lead. But the thing was, it was also a peace offering. Shazam knew they were mad at him and he’d waited to come back till he had an olive branch to offer them. Wally didn’t think he was lying – if he was going to be brutally honest with himself, he didn’t know Shazam well enough to say if he’d lie about something like this, but he was pretty sure he had the sense not to tell a lie this weird and stupid. But they only had his word to go on and there was every chance he was exaggerating whatever it was he’d felt.

“Bats?” he said.

“I think we need to know more,” said the Batman.

“Cool.” Wally straightened up. “Cool, cool. Well, I’ve got nothing on this afternoon – I can go take a look around.”

“Today?” said the Batman. “It’d be safer to wait till Aquaman or Wonder Woman is available.”

“Yeah, that could take days,” said Wally. “I’d like to get the ball rolling on this sooner rather than later.”

“I’m just not comfortable sending you in there with no back-up,” said the Batman.

“Bats,” said Wally. “C’mon. It’s recon in a small town amusement park. How dangerous could it be?”

“You can’t be too careful,” said the Batman.

You absolutely could be too careful, and Wally was about to say so when Shazam said, “I can back him up.”

Wally and the others exchanged glances. He’d take this one, he decided. “Shazam,” he said. “Buddy. No offense but, historically you’re, uh. Not the best at undercover.”

“Uh, yeah.” Shazam motioned at himself, at his vibrantly red costume and absurdly muscled body. “Shazam sucks at undercover, cause he looks like this and he’s got a lightning bolt on his chest that glows all the time.” He shrugged. “Regular me’s pretty good at it.”

It took Wally a moment to process what he was suggesting. “No.”

“He has a point,” said Vic.

“No he doesn’t,” said Wally.

“It’s an amusement park,” said Vic. “There’ll be kids there. He’ll blend right in.”

“Oh, I’m great at blending in,” said Shazam.

“Absolutely not,” said Wally. “No. Out of the question.”

“Why not?” said Shazam.

“You know why,” said Wally.

“What happened to it’s an amusement park, how dangerous can it be?” said Shazam. “Jeez, chill out.”

“That’s not,” said Wally. “It, it’s not – I – Bats,” he flapped a hand at the Batman. “Bats, back me up here.”

“Hm,” said the Batman. “It’s not a terrible idea.”

“Aw, come on!” said Wally. “Actually, I don’t know why I expected you to be any help, Mr Kid Sidekick.”

“You’re right that we need to get on this as soon as we can,” said the Batman. “Cyborg, what do you think?”

Vic shifted his stance. He turned to Shazam and said, “How long does it take you to power up?”

“About as long as it takes to say Shazam.”

“Then I guess,” said Vic. “I guess it should be fine.”

“It’ll be totally fine,” said Shazam. “I can handle myself.”

“Flash?” said the Batman.

“Fine,” said Wally. He threw up his hands. “Fine! Whatever. I guess I’m outnumbered.”

“You do not engage,” said the Batman to Shazam. “You go in, you look around the public areas to see if anything’s amiss, and then you get out. Understood?”

“Sure,” said Shazam. “Loud and clear.”

“That goes for both of you,” said the Batman. “No engagement.”

“Hey, what do you take me for?” said Wally. “I know how to do a recon mission.”

The Batman fixed him with a look. He said, “Do you need cash?”

“Sure,” said Wally. The Bat had deep pockets. He hadn’t pressed him on where he got his funds and he wasn’t above taking advantage. “If you’re offering.”

The Batman nodded. “Shazam, do you have your communicator?”

“Uh – no,” said Shazam. “No, it’s still, uh.” He trailed off into an embarrassed mumble.

“Cyborg, get him a spare,” said the Batman.

“You need any prep time?” said Wally.

“I need to make a stop first,” said Shazam. “Give me an hour.”

Wally had had a pretty regular day of being out of work planned.

He’d been planning to sleep in and then maybe do a quick run to California for lunch. And sure, he’d been the Flash long enough that he was used to having to throw his plans out the window, but today was pushing it. He’d been called into action at eight thirty in the fucking AM, almost died like five times, had one close call so close that he’d seen the pearly gates opening before him – and now he was standing around the parking lot of an amusement park waiting for a fourteen year old kid he barely knew to show up so they could do a recon mission based on resonances.

It was maybe the third weirdest day he’d had so far that month.

He sipped his coffee, looking up at the sign. Captain Cook’s Cwazy World of Attractions, & Petting Zoo & Family Restaurant, Free Parking, Kids Under 12 Half Price, had very clearly seen better days. The paintwork was peeling, one of the leering pirate’s eyes all but gone. The ticket booth was scuffed and faded. It had been raining when he showed up and it was still misting, a thin slick of water across the parking lot.

Still, in spite of the grey weather and in spite of the run-down state of the place, there was a decent line for a weekday afternoon. Maybe there just wasn’t much else in town to do after school. But it was unusual enough to take note of.

He scanned the parking lot once again, wondering not for the first time if he’d even recognise the kid when he arrived. He’d only seen him for a couple of minutes, in pretty weird circumstances. He wasn’t the best with faces.

Someone poked his arm. “Hey, Wally.”

“Yeargh!” he yelped, almost spilling his coffee. “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Sorry,” said the kid, not sounding very sorry.

Wally blinked at him. He’d been pretty sure he was prepared, mentally, for how weird this was gonna be. He was not prepared. The kid was looking at him expectantly, everything about his body language saying hey, I know you. Every rational bone in Wally’s brain was telling him he was looking at a virtual stranger.

He was wearing the same red hoodie he’d had on in Chicago, the hood pulled up against the rain. He’d traded out the fannypack for a backpack, slung over one shoulder. He looked, if anything, younger than Wally remembered. He jerked his head at the entrance. “We gonna get going?”

Wally found his tongue. “Sure.”

He necked his lukewarm coffee and shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to act natural as they crossed the parking lot. He was usually pretty good at acting natural.

“So you gonna tell me your name?” he said.

“Wasn’t planning to,” said the kid.

“C’mon,” said Wally. “I gotta call you something.”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m pretending to be your dad or whatever,” Wally said.

The kid squinted at him. “Are you even old enough to be my dad?”

“Ehh,” Wally did the math, “probably not. Older brother?”

“No-one’s gonna notice if you don’t call me anything,” said the kid.

“Can’t be too prepared,” Wally reminded him.

The kid scoffed. “Fine,” he said. He tilted his head to the side, considering. “You can call me – Tyrone.”

“That’s not your name,” said Wally.

“It could be my name.”

“But it’s not.”

“But it could be,” said the kid, meeting his eyes, his face disgustingly innocent.

“Fine,” said Wally. “Fine! Whatever, Tyrone.”

“Cool,” said the kid. “Hey, you wanna pick a fake mission name?”

“Ooh,” said Wally. “I could pick a fake name.” He hadn’t thought of that. Usually if he used an alias on a mission the Bat picked it out for him in advance. “Okay,” he said. “Call me – Tyler. No, wait, Chad. No no, Tyler –”

They were coming up on the end of the line. “Speed it up, Wally.”

“Hughie,” he decided. “Call me Hughie.”

“Hughie?”

“Shhh!” Wally shushed him. “Quiet, Tyrone.”

They joined the line behind a bunch of giggly kids. Wally peered up at the sign overhead, considering it as they moved up the line and it sailed out of view.

Ducking his head and lowering his voice he said, “Do you think we can pass you off as under twelve?”

The kid shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do we have to? It’s kind of humiliating.”

Wally shrugged. “More money to spend on snacks later?”

“Deal,” said the kid. “Go for it.”

“Cool,” said Wally. “Keep your mouth shut, okay?”

The kid shot him a look and dutifully kept his mouth shut all the way to the front of the line.

“Goooood afternoon!” Wally leaned on the painter counter. “This here’s Tyrone,” he said, jerking his head at the kid. “He’s eleven and a half.”

The teller shot him a bored look. It was obvious she didn’t believe him for a second, but she punched out one adult and one under twelve ticket. “Fifteen ninety-nine.”

He reached for his wallet, still smiling. “How’s it going? Busy day?”

“Fifteen ninety-nine,” she intoned.

“Hey, that’s great.” He counted out the cash. “You enjoy the rest of your afternoon, now.”

The turnstile unlocked with a clunk and he made to put a hand on the kid’s back and guide him on in. The kid flinched, shrugging him off hard and pointed, and that sure had to look weird. He flashed the teller an apologetic smile as he edged through the turnstile. Thankfully she didn’t give a shit.

So there they were, in what had to be the crummiest amusement park in the tristate area. To their left the path curved around towards a line of carnival games. To their right, a path leading to the bumper cars, which were out of commission. The air smelled of stale popcorn and faintly of vinegar. Up ahead, looming over the bedraggled greenery of the petting zoo, the park’s one rollercoaster, an elderly looking wooden thing he could practically hear creaking.

It was about the least magical place Wally had ever seen. He put his hands on his hips and wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing there.

Okay, he told himself. Worst case scenario the kid was wrong and all they’d accomplish was ruling out the lead. Well, technically worst case scenario was that they both ended up dead, but they ought to be realistic. The only way they were likely to wind up dead in that place was if they took a ride on the rollercoaster.
He jerked his head at the kid and made for the carnival games. “C’mon.”

He sauntered on, his hands in his pockets, trying to act like he was just trying to decide what to do first. The Batman had once told him that the key to being undercover was to forget you even were undercover, till you needed to; to fully commit to the bit, he supposed. He was no good at that. He was too in his head.

And anyway, he wasn’t sure he trusted the Bat’s advice on undercover work since, since best as he could tell the guy never did any.

“So what are we looking for?” said the kid.

“I dunno,” he said. “You getting any – resonances?”

“Well, not right now.” The kid said it like it was super obvious.

“What’d you mean?”

“I can’t do that when I’m not – you know,” the kid said.

“Ohh,” said Wally it clicked. “Okay.” He tapped his tongue against the roof of his mouth in thought. “So do you have any powers when you’re – you?”

“It’s kind of an all or nothing deal,” said the kid.

“Cool,” said Wally. “Good to know.” He walked on a little way. “In that case I guess we’re just looking for anything weird.”

“Like what?”

“I guess we’ll know it when we see it.”

“But what if we don’t?”

“Hey, this was your idea, okay?” said Wally.

“Do you,” said the kid, “not want to be in charge?”

“I –” Wally considered the alternative. “Let’s just walk around and see if anything looks out of place, okay?”

“Cool,” said the kid. “So where do you want to start?”

They were coming up on the teacup ride. It was also shut down. Did this place have any functioning rides, Wally wondered. He leaned against the fence and tilting his head back looked at the sky, considering their next move.

“Do you wanna get lunch?” he said. “Let’s do lunch.”

Through trial and error, he’d found that the maximum number of hotdogs you could eat in public before people started giving you weird looks was, sadly, two. Many more than that and people would start to look at you like hey, what’s with that guy eating all the hotdogs. He didn’t need that kind of attention right now.

It had started drizzling again. They stood huddled under an awning at the edge of the food court, eating their passable hotdogs. The kid had taken down his hood. Wally studied him out of the corner of his eye, trying to be subtle about it.

He sure wasn’t talkative, which was – kind of a surprise, considering how much Shazam loved the sound of his own voice. Maybe it was cause they were trying to keep a low profile. Maybe he just wasn’t entirely comfortable around Wally now that he was – kid-shaped.

He looked – kind of like Shazam. If someone had told Wally he was Shazam’s kid brother, he’d have been like yeah, that checks out. Every time he thought about how the kid was Shazam he got a little dizzy.

The kid swallowed a mouthful of hotdog. “Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not,” said Wally.

“Fuck off.” The kid went back to eating his hotdog.

Wally blinked, kind of thrown. He said, “So, uh. How’s your hotdog?”

“I’ve had worse,” said the kid.

“Me too.” Wally scrunched the wrapper in his hand. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

“Depends what it is.”

“When you, uh,” said Wally. “When you said the suit doesn’t come off. What did you mean?” It had been at the back of his mind since some time after Chicago. Now was as good a time as any to ask.

The kid glanced at him. He looked around the food court, making sure no-one was paying attention to them, then leaned in closer and said, “Okay, look, it doesn’t have any fastenings and it’s pretty much indestructible. If there’s a way to take it off I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Huh.” Wally digested that, or tried to. “So how do you. Uh.”

The kid fixed him with a look. “How do I what, Wally?”

“Actually, never mind,” said Wally. He started on his second hotdog. “So how much trouble are you gonna be in when you get home?”

“Hard to say,” said the kid with a shrug. “Not your problem.”

“I just – don’t like the idea of landing you in shit,” said Wally. “Do you want me to write you a note or something?”

“I landed me in shit,” said the kid. “And like, no offense, but I don’t know if a note from you would help much.”

“Yeah,” said Wally. “You might be right. You could ask the big guy to write you a note?”

“A note from Superman?” The kid shook his head. “Nah. He didn’t make a great impression on my foster mom. Also isn’t he in Europe?”

“Point taken,” said Wally. He finished his second hotdog and thought wistfully about going back for more.

“I’ll be fine,” said the kid. “They’re not going to beat my ass or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. They’re pretty nice people.”

That wasn’t what he’d been worried about, as it happened, but now the thought – not to mention the nonchalant way the kid had thrown the idea out there – was stuck in his head, and he was lost for words.

“Hey, here’s something weird,” said the kid. “It’s pretty busy, right? For the middle of the week.”

“Yeah,” said Wally.

“But there’s almost no-one on the rollercoaster.” The kid nodded at it.

Wally squinted. There was a car chugging its way up the track towards the first drop, maybe a quarter full. “Hey, you’re right,” he said. “Are all the cars like that?”

“I’ve been watching them go around,” said the kid. “That’s weird, right? It’s the biggest ride. You’d think that’d be what people come here for.”

“So you think they’re coming here for something else?”

The kid shrugged. “Maybe.”

Wally considered the rollercoaster. “It’s a solid observation,” he said. “But to be fair, that is the saddest rollercoaster I’ve ever seen”

“I’ll take your word for it.” The kid’s gaze tracked the car as it dropped. “I’ve never been on a rollercoaster.”

“Really?” said Wally. “Not ever? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” said the kid. “Just never had the opportunity, I guess. Are they fun?”

“Yeah!” said Wally. “Well. I mean, I loved them when I was a kid. They might not do so much for me now. Cause, y’know.” He flapped a hand, trying to convey, you know, cause I’m the fastest man alive and I can go faster than any rollercoaster without breaking a sweat.

“Cool,” said the kid.

“Do you wanna give it a go?” said Wally.

The kid’s eyes went to the rollercoaster. “On that thing?” he said. “Fuck, no.”

Wally snorted. “You swear a lot, huh?”

“So?”

“It’s just,” said Wally. “I never heard you swear before.”

“Shazam doesn’t swear,” said the kid, his mouth full of hotdog. “Shazam has an image to maintain.” He swallowed. “I’ll swear as much as I fucking want.”

Something about the way the kid worded it struck him – something about it knocked together in his head with some other stuff, and a thought crossed his mind. “So is it like. A split personality kind of deal?”

The kid shot him a disdainful look. “No, why?”

“No reason.”

The kid shrugged it off. “So why didn’t you want me to come out today?”

“You know why,” said Wally. The kid looked at him as if to say enlighten me. “Because you’re a kid?”

“You didn’t mind me helping you out in New York,” said the kid.

“That’s – well, I kinda – I, I, I wasn’t one hundo per cent comfortable with that either,” said Wally. “And anyway, it’s different. Earlier you were invincible. Right now you’re all –” He waved a hand at the kid. “Squishy and breakable.”

“You realise you’re squishy and breakable too, right?” said the kid.

“I’m also really fast,” said Wally.

“Won’t stop you breaking all your bones,” said the kid. “Seriously. I worry about you.”

“You worry about me?” Wally said. “Jesus. Don’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m a grown ass man!”

“Yeah, but you did really stupid shit sometimes,” said the kid.

“Not mutually exclusive,” said Wally. “Fuck off.”

“Sure. Hey, do you want the rest of this?” The kid shoved the end of his hotdog at him. “I’m not that hungry.”

Wally touched a hand to his chest. “A boy after my own heart.”

If nothing else, he reflected in the restroom, even if the lead didn’t pan out, he’d got a free lunch out of it. Plus he still had twenty dollars of Bat-money in his wallet that he had no plans of returning.

As he stepped outside a voice called, “Hey – Hughie,” and it took him a solid five seconds to remember that meant him.

“Over here,” said the kid, waving at him.

“What’s up?” said Wally, jogging over to join him.

He was standing by a map of the park. Wally scanned it briefly; like everything else it was faded and worn out. There wasn’t all that much park to look around, just a single looping path around the rollercoaster and the petting zoo. It shouldn’t take long.

The kid pointed at the upper left corner of the map. “This one’s new.”

Following his finger Wally saw what he meant. A new section of map had been pasted on – kind of sloppily, the lines of the path not quite matching up. The colours were still bright and glossy.

“Hey, yeah,” he said. The illustration showed a little castle – not really a castle, as much as a garden with a crenelated wall around it. Inside the wall, a cartoon unicorn – something that might have been meant to be a griffin – a dragon. He read the name of the attraction aloud. “Merlin’s Magical Safari Kingdom.”

The kid shot him a significant look.

“Nice catch.” Wally made to put his hand on the kid’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go –”

When his fingers brushed the kid’s shoulder, he flinched – not a conscious shrugging off, unmistakeably a full-on, involuntary, spine-shivering flinch.

“Whoa,” Wally said, holding up his hands. “Sorry.”

“It’s nothing personal,” said the kid. “I just don’t really like people touching me.”

“Oh,” said Wally. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

There were a lot of reasons the kid might feel that way. All sorts of people didn’t like being touched, for any number of reasons, and that went for kids in foster care too. But his brain went straight to the worst reasons the kid might not want people putting their hands on him, which was a kind of hell he hadn’t experienced before, and all of a sudden he felt kind of sick.

“I,” he said. “Uh –”

“Let’s just get going, okay?” The kid stalked away.

It was only as he started walking that it struck him that he’d been kind of touchy-feely with Shazam. Actually, he’d been very touchy-feely with Shazam. He was touchy-feely with most of his friends, if they were okay with it. Shazam had always seemed fine with it. He’d never responded in kind but he’d never acted like it bothered him.

“Hey, look,” he said, half-jogging to catch the kid up. “I’m sorry.”

The kid glanced at him over his shoulder. “For what?”

“I just – feel like I’ve been touching you a lot,” he said.

“Today?”

“Ever,” said Wally. “I guess.”

“Ohh – I get you,” said the kid. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t mean to –”

“It doesn’t bother me when I’m –” The kid motioned above his own head. Big. “You know.”

“If I’ve been making you uncomfortable,” said Wally. “You can –”

“If it bothered me before today I would’ve said something,” said the kid. “And if it really bothered me I would’ve just beat your ass. Chill out.”

“If you’re sure –”

“I’m not mad at you,” said the kid. “But I’m gonna be if you do not shut up.”

“Shutting up,” said Wally.

They were rounding the side of the park, past the entrance of the petting zoo. Up ahead, a circus tent came into view – not a circus tent. A round building shaped and painted to look like one, in red and yellow stripes. He didn’t recognise it from the map. As they drew closer, he noticed that the gate leading to it was shut up and locked. The signs had all been pasted over.

Just past the circus tent, a plywood archway in the same of a portcullis – and beyond that, a pretty substantial line of people. “Looks popular,” he said.

“Weird?” said the kid.

“A little,” Wally conceded.

“So, uh,” he said as they got their tickets punched. “What’s in there?”

“It’s magical,” said the attendant flatly, shoving their tickets back at them. “Have a nice day.”

“Service isn’t exactly stellar, huh?” said Wally, joining the line.

“Shut it, Hughie,” said the kid.

The line was moving, if not too quickly. They shuffled on. Once they were well out of earshot of the attendant Wally said, “So do you think this is where the resonances were coming from?”

“Stop saying it like that, it’s a real thing,” said the kid. “And, I’m not sure. When we flew over I felt like it was coming from all across the park.”

Wally pricked up his ears. “We?”

“Me,” said the kid. “I. When I flew over.”

He’d put a pin in that, Wally decided, and bug him about it later. “Whatever.”

“What are we even queuing for?” The kid bounced on his tip-toes, trying to see over the line. “It’s not a ride, right?” He caught Wally looking at him. “What?”

“You’re just so little,” said Wally. The kid glowered. “I’m used to you being all –” He waved a hand above the kid’s head at Shazam’s approximate height. “You know.”

The kid batted his hand away. “Fucking quit it!”

“Hey!” said Wally. “Language. There’s little kids.”

“Asshole,” said the kid.

They lapsed back into silence, following the line on around a corner, and another. Up ahead, looking over the attraction entrance, was a plywood wizard with a purple robe and manic, staring eyes.

The kid stared up at it dubiously. “Amusement parks are usually better than this, right?” he said. “I’ve never been to an actual one before.”

“Shit, for real?” said Wally. “What did you do with your entire childhood?”

A look passed across the kid’s face, just for a moment, that made him feel like the world’s biggest dick for asking. “I don’t know,” he said. “A bunch of stuff. Are we almost there?”

“I think so,” said Wally.

The end of the line came into view, the attendant letting groups in at intervals. They passed under the wizard and after a last moment’s wait they were finally inside.

The path led onwards between hedges and faux-greenery, bedecked with glitter and fake spider webs and plastic flowers. It curved around, and up ahead widened out into a viewing area. A group of people were gathered there, watching something over the fence, and Wally and the kid slowed to a halt, waiting for the way to clear.

Wally studied the spectators, trying to gauge their reactions. They looked pretty excited. Certainly delight. But not wowed the way you’d expect from something that was real actual magic. He spoke from experience when he said that genuine magic had a genuine wow factor.

“I don’t think there’s anything in there,” he said to the kid.

“There must be something in here.”

“Yeah, but,” said Wally. “I don’t know if there’s anything, you know. Weird.”

“We just got here,” said the kid. “It’s been like thirty seconds.”

“Most stuff that calls itself magic is pretty much just bullshit,” Wally said.

“Yeah, I know that!” said the kid. “God!”

An attendant moved the group up ahead on, and they started walking towards the viewing area.

“Look,” said Wally. “I’m just saying –”

He looked out over the fence, and shut the fuck up.

Pacing the space between the trees was – a dragon. It was big, maybe elephant-sized. It had wings like a bat and every so often it would spread them and shake them out. Its scales were a burnished green, with golden claws and horns. Its eyes glowed orange like fire.

Its movements, as it paced and stretched and spread out its wings, were fluid – organic. Its eyes, when it turned to look at them over the fence, were alert. Alive. It was breathtakingly, horribly real.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d take it for a really, really good animatronic, or something like that. But Wally did know better, and he knew it at once. It was clay, powered by magic. It was the finished version of the monster they’d seen in Chicago.

The dragon in Chicago had been sloppily made – rough and ready, cracked and shedding dust when it moved, grey-brown with dirt. This one was beautiful. Perfect. Complete.

Throwing back its head, the dragon spat orange-gold sparks at the sky, and the group of kids that had followed them into the viewing area ooed in delight.

The kid said softly, “You were saying?”

“Okay,” said Wally. “Point to you.”

“What do we do?”

He had – a lot of questions. What it was doing here, in a crummy amusement park in Pennsylvania. Why its pale imitation had been sent to Chicago. Who had made it, and why. Why.

He tore his eyes away from the dragon, squinting at what was behind it. An ordinary brick wall of an ordinary building, visible through the artificial greenery. Set into it, a discreet, unmarked door.

Okay, then.

“C’mon.” He ushered the kid away, past the attendant, to an emptier stretch of path. “Okay,” he said, lowering his voice. “You get out of here, find a quiet spot, call this in.”

“Sure,” said the kid. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna get a good look at the rest of the attraction,” said Wally.

The kid stared at him. “What for?”

“To see what we’re dealing with?” said Wally. “Will you get going?”

“Okay!” said the kid. “Okay.”

He moved off, and Wally turned away – but after a moment the kid doubled back and grabbed his elbow. “Be careful,” he said.

“I’ll be fine!” Wally tugged his elbow out of the kid’s grip. “Just go make the call, okay?”

“Okay,” said the kid. “Jeez. I’m gone.”

Wally watched him half-jog down the path, darting between visitors, vanishing around the corner. He waited a little longer, just to be sure the kid wasn’t coming back.

In a fraction of a second, he was over the fence and at the door. Another couple of fractions was all it took to bust the lock – and he was in.

The door opened onto a bare hallway. He stuck his hands in his pockets and sauntered on in to explore. No point in suiting up yet – if he was caught in his civvies there was a chance he could play it off as a whoops, got lost trying to find the bathroom situation.

Not that there was much to explore. An empty room, with marks against the wall where furniture had been. A store room with a bunch of faux-foliage and cans of what he found on investigation to be spray glitter.

Probably not, he imagined, the kind of attraction that needed controls or traditional maintenance. But there had to be something. He shut the store room door and moved onto the next.

Bingo. On the other side of the corridor, a door; stencilled onto it the words Authorised Personnel Only. He tried the handle. It was locked.

Beyond the door a set of stairs led down. This, he decided, was the point beyond which I’m a lost visitor who needs to pee real bad wasn’t going to fly. He suited up.

Two flights of stairs down to another hallway, made of bare concrete and lit shakily from above. Secret passage for staff to get around the park, he figured. He’d heard they had them at Disneyland.

He followed it back in the direction of the park entrance, for a couple of hundred yards to a set of double doors that were locked up tight. Peeping through the glass pane he saw a chain and a heavy-duty padlock on the other side.

On his right, a less securely locked door, unmarked. He climbed the stairs beyond, back up to ground level, and busted open the door at the top.

It opened into a wide space. A round, high-ceilinged building room, the only light coming from narrow windows near the roof. He guessed at once where he was; the circus tent building they’d passed on their way up. It was pretty much empty, what little furniture that had been left there shoved up against the curved walls. The tiled floor was thick with dust.

Dead centre, below the pitched roof, a concrete block. And set into the top, its blade half buried in the concrete – the axe.

“Oooh, boy,” he said to himself. “Dead on the money, kid.”

It was big – bigger than he’d realised from the pictures. Slightly too big, he thought, for human hands. It was forged from a single chunk of bronze, black and weathered with age. He couldn’t make out the symbols. He thought then, as he had when he’d first seen the photos, that it didn’t look like something that had been made by humans. It looked like something that had fallen from space, like a meteorite.

Hell, maybe it had fallen from space.

He took a step towards it. The ground underfoot crunched and looking down he realised, uneasily, that he was walking on ground-up clay.

There was a flicker of light on the axe – the symbols, lighting up, rapidly blinking on and off and on again. It went still. He edged closer, and after a couple of seconds it happened again, the symbols flashing white-gold and erratic.

He stopped beside its plinth, watching the symbols flash and go dark. It had been lodged into the plinth with enough force to crack the concrete. Weird.

He eyed its dark metal handle, considering. The symbols flickered again. Up close there was a sound accompanying the flicker, a soft fzz, fzz. It didn’t have the wow factor of the dragon, but it was the real deal. It was pinging the same bit of his monkey hind-brain as Shazam. The yeah, this is some ancient, primordial magic part. He missed the days when he didn’t know his brain had a primordial magic-sensing area.

He reached out to touch the handle.

A voice rang out in the stillness of the circus tent. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

Yeah, Wally thought. That figures. He dropped his hand.

A man was closing the external door behind him. There was a solid clunk of a lock. He was on the short side – broad chested. He was wearing a faded grey suit and a Stetson hat. His shouldered were hunched, his hands clasping together in front of him, as if he was pleading.

Stepping away from the axe, Wally smiled tightly. “Captain Cook, I presume?”

“I figured you people would find me eventually,” said Captain Cook, wringing his hands.

“Oh, yeah,” Wally bluffed. “We’ve been onto you for a while.” He jabbed a thumb at the axe. “This yours?”

Captain Cook didn’t answer him. “I want you to know that I’m a reasonable man, Mr Flash.” He shuffled closer over the clay-scattered floor. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Sure thing,” said Wally. “You down to hand over the axe and turn yourself in?”

“I didn’t steal if, you know,” said Captain Cook.

“I don’t care.”

“It came into my possession by – happenstance.” He edged closer. “I hope you’ll appreciate,” he nodded at the axe, “this old thing is my livelihood. It’s all that’s keeping my business afloat, Mr Flash.”

“I don’t care about your business,” said Wally. “And it’s just Flash, thanks. You can quit mistering me.”

“I’m sure we can talk this out,” said Captain Cook.

Yeah, that was the way to do it. Keep him talking, till he could figure out his next move.

“Okay.” He held up his hands. “Let’s talk. I get it, okay? I get what you’re doing here, with the axe and the – the magical creature show. It’s a nice little scheme you’ve got going. But what’s with the monsters?”

Captain Cook took another step forward. His face was bleak.

“What were you trying to accomplish?” said Wally. “What was the point?”

Captain Cook spread his sweaty hands. “With any innovation there’s gonna be wrinkles to iron out. Right?”

“Wrinkles?”

“I really do appreciate what you and your people have been doing,” said Captain Cook. “I never wanted anyone harmed.”

It was one of those things you didn’t see till someone drew your attention to it – and then it was all you could see.

The rough, half-baked nature of the creatures, compared to what he’d seen in the attraction. The random locations of the attacks. The lack of any pattern – any motive. Why would you send a bunch of monsters to attack a housing development under construction on the outskirts of Chicago. Answer: you wouldn’t. You wouldn’t.

“I’m sure I’ll have it stable any day now,” said Captain Cook, his hands spread in supplication and trembling.

“You can’t control it,” said Wally. “You didn’t even mean to make them. Did you?”

Captain Cook stepped closer, his feet slipping on the dust. “There are always setbacks,” he said. “I didn’t mean any harm. I’m a reasonable man. But I have debts to pay.” He shuffled still closer. “I have a family.”

“Do they know what you’ve done?” said Wally. “Did you tell them?”

“They know I’d do anything for them,” said Captain Cook. He stepped alongside the plinth. “Please. We can be reasonable about this. It’s just business.”

“Business,” said Wally. “Do you have any idea how many people you’ve killed?”

Captain Cook smiled – a thin, sad smile. He sat his hand upon the axe, wrapping his fingers around its grooved handle. He said,

“Trap him.”

The symbols lit up bright white.

Something struck him hard in the chest, hard enough to knock all the air out of him, and he was flying across the room – he slammed into the wall, pain flaring in his back. A bar of solid clay was pressed to his chest, pinning him to the wall. He couldn’t move his arms. His feet just barely touched the floor. It was – a little hard to breathe.

He caught his breath. “Aw, you really think this’ll hold me?” he said. “You gotta do better than that. Check this out.”

He’d just vibrate out of it, and then –

The clay bar was solid – it held firm. It was just clay, and yet it was made out of something that didn’t phase. It wasn’t possible. He tried again, his teeth jarring with the vibration. Again. Still nothing happened.

He breathed out. “Shit,” he said. “Okay.” God damn it, he hated magic.

“I so hoped we could be reasonable about this,” said Captain Cook, still holding the handle of the axe.

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” said Wally. “It’s okay. I get it now. You’re a goddamn lunatic.”

Captain Cook’s grip on the axe tightened – and the bar tightened with it, rib-crunchingly tight. He grunted aloud in pain.

“Please, Mr Flash,” said Captain Cook. “Let’s talk.”

“Two hundred and fifty seven,” Wally gasped out. “That’s how many people you killed.”

“I never killed anyone,” said Captain Cook. “But I’d do it. For my family.”

“You slimy fucker,” said Wally.

“That boy you were talking to,” said Captain Cook.

Wally’s blood ran cold.

“Who is he?”

“Boy,” said Wally. “What boy?”

“The boy you were eating with in my food court,” said Captain Cook. “Who is he?”

“I don’t know,” said Wally. “Just some kid. We got talking. I don’t know him.”

“You came into my park with him,” said Captain Cook, and Wally’s blood ran still colder. “One of my people heard you talking. Superman this, Shazam that. I’d have thought the Justice League would be more subtle. What does the boy have to do with all this?”

“Nothing,” said Wally. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know jack.”

Captain Cook was nodding, his face solemn. He adjusted his grip on the axe, and turning to it said, “Give me something that can hunt.”

The symbols flashed. The dust on the floor shivered, rising up into a cloud like smoke. Wally fought against his bonds, feet scrabbling vainly against the ground, his teeth gritted, as it took shape.

Teeth – mouths, three of them. Heads, and necks. Four legs, with fearsome clawed feet. A dog the size of a car, with three biting, baying mouths, dark bristling fur, eyes that glowed red.

“Find the boy,” said Captain Cook. “Bring him to me.”

The three headed dog dissolved into the dust, flowing beneath the door, out of sight. Wally’s stomach dropped down to the centre of the earth.

“He’s just a kid,” he said again. “We got talking. He’s not –”

Captain Cook tightened his grip again, and he choked. It was hard to draw breath, the pressure against his diaphragm getting crushing. It was hard to draw breath. It was really starting to hurt. Yikes, he thought. This is gonna suck. The pressure grew still tighter. He felt his ribs cracking. He could barely breathe.

For the second time that day, Wally realised he was gonna die.

He was going to die, crushed to death in that crummy little amusement park by an idiot in a stupid hat. He was gonna die because he’d been dumb enough to go off without back up. Because he hadn’t listened to Shazam when he’d said there was something dangerous in that place. He was gonna die there, alone.

Captain Cook was crunching across the dusty floor towards him.

“They’ll,” Wally croaked out. “They’ll come for you. You know they will.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Captain Cook, smiling another thin smile. “I’m sorry about this, Mr Flash. I take no pleasure in it.”

“We called for – back up,” Wally managed, a last, desperate bluff. “They’ll be here –”

“I’ll be gone,” said Captain Cook.

It was getting kind of hard to think. “You won’t get away with this,” he said. That much, at least, was true. The League would catch him. They’d figure out what had happened and they’d go wow, Wally got himself killed by some Stetson-wearing sleezebag who runs a petting zoo? What a dumbass.

“It’ll be over soon,” said Captain Cook. “I –”

Somewhere outside, in the distance, there was a crash of thunder.

A smile spread across Wally’s face as it sank in, what had just happened. “Oh,” he said, raising his head. “Buddy. You are screwed.”

Captain Cook glanced uneasily over his shoulder. A second later, the doors exploded inwards.

Shazam marched in through the settling dust, lightning still sparking around his hair and the edges of his cap, dragging the dog writhing and panting by one of its necks. And oh boy was Wally glad to see him.

“Oh, no,” said the Captain, making for the axe at a shuffling jog. “No, no –”

Shazam tossed the dog at him, sending them both flying across the room, and not even breaking his stride he followed it up with a blast of lighting that blew the dog back into clay. “Hey, Flash!”

“Hey,” said Wally.

“Need a hand?”

“Could use one,” Wally choked out.

Shazam put his hands on the clay bar and wrenched. It didn’t give. “Hm.” He adjusted his grip. “Hang on – I got this.”

“You sure you know what you’re doing?”

“Eh,” said Shazam, his hands sparking, starting to crackle. “I’ll figure it out.”

“Ohh, no –” Wally squeezed his eyes shut.

Electricity pulsed through the clay and as it shattered around him every hair on his body stood on end and he could feel it in his goddamn teeth, his fillings vibrating – and his feet touched the ground.

He drew in a shaky breath – a steadier one. “Hey, thanks.”

“Any time.” Shazam saluted him. “You okay?”

“I’ll walk it off,” said Wally, brushing dust off his suit. He could already feel his ribs knitting back together. He’d be fine in a couple of minutes. It’d ache for an hour or two.

“What are you doing in here?” said Shazam.

“I’ll explain later,” said Wally. “Did you make the call?”

“Sure –”

Captain Cook’s voice rang out, unsteady but clear. “Give me something that can kill Shazam.”

To Wally’s stomach-twisting horror, he had his hand on the axe.

“No –” In an instance he’d closed the gap between them and tackled Captain Cook to the ground – but it was too little too late. The dust on the ground was already shivering with magic. It floated up into the air around the axe, taking shape.

A hand, gripping the handle of the axe. An arm. A body. It rose up, up, up, till its skull brushed the ceiling – its arms and chest gleamed like polished metal, rippling with clay muscle. One eye burned in its forehead. With a grinding of bronze on concrete, it took the axe from the plinth.

“Huh,” said Shazam, squaring up like he could fistfight the damn thing. “Okay.”

Wally yelled out, “Careful!”

Shazam blasted it with lightning from both hands, bolts crackling over its body, and the cyclops’s head fell back in a roar of pain and fury – but it didn’t give. Its clay didn’t even crack. Steadying itself, it raised the axe.

Shazam’s hands were outstretched to try again when the axe caught him fully in the chest. It sent him flying into the wall, crashing through it like paper into the open air – and he was gone. Wally waited a breathless couple of heartbeats for him to bounce back. He didn’t come back.
No, he thought as his veins filled with ice. Oh no, no, no –

Okay, he told himself. Okay. Regroup. It was heading at a lumbering pace towards the hole it had made. If Shazam’s lightning couldn’t kill it he didn’t stand a chance. He had to keep it inside the building. If it got out there was every chance it’d kill everyone between it and its target. If he could just keep it busy till Shazam came back –

Or failing that till someone at the Watchtower noticed something was up and came to check on them.

He raced between it and its exit. “Hey there, big guy! Come get me!”

Lumbering around to follow him it swung the axe – and missed.

“Whoa, too slow!” Wally shouted from atop the plinth. “I’m over here!”

“No – no!” cried out Captain Cook as it turned towards him. “Leave him! Get the other one!”

Freezing in place, it listened to its master and turned away.

“Nuh-uh!” Grabbing a chunk of dead dog from the ground Wally tossed it as hard as he could at the back of the cyclops’s head. “Come get me!” It didn’t turn.

He ran in circles around its feet, stirring up dust, and it tottered. “C’mon!” he cried out, waving his arms in the air. “Look at me! I’m so punchable!”

The axe came down where he was standing, crashing into the floor with enough force to bury half the blade, and the cyclops wrenched, struggling to free it.

“Get the other one!” Captain Cook was yelling. “Get Shazam!”

“Hey, hey!” Wally hopped back up on the plinth. “I’m Shazam! Shazam over here!”

The axe smashed through the empty plinth, shattering it into concrete fragments.

“Whoops!” said Wally from the busted in doors. “Missed me again!”

“Will you stop that?” yelled Captain Cook.

“I’m Shazam!” Wally cried as it turned on him. “I’m Shazam! Come get me!”

It raised the axe for another strike – and with a crackle of lightning and a blur of red, it jerked, staggering – and there was Shazam, gripping its arm, holding it back.

The tension in Wally’s chest eased.

Lightning tore through the cyclops again, and again, but while it shook and spasmed still it didn’t so much as crack. Roaring it grabbed Shazam with its free hand, gripping him around the waist and pinning his arms to his sides.

“I don’t think that’s gonna cut it, kid!” Wally called up at him.

“I figured,” said Shazam, struggling against its grip. “I have an idea –”

It dropped him to the ground and swung the axe – it struck the ground with a ringing crash and in a blur of motion Shazam was next to him. There was a black mark across his chest, a stark scorched line against the red of his suit. Wally gritted his teeth. He’d never seen Shazam take damage before. How hard did that thing hit.

“Keep it distracted,” said Shazam. “I’m gonna try and get the axe.”

“Cool,” said Wally. If there was one thing he was good at, it was being distracting.

“Hey!” he called out from the other side of the circus tent. “Hey, I’m over here!”

The axe crashed into the wall behind him with enough force to shake the building.

“You gonna get me?” he said, looping around his ankles. “Huh? You gonna get me?”

“Shazam!” Captain Cook hollered. “Get Shazam!”

Hopping up onto the piled-up furniture he yelled, “Shazam’s right over here, big guy!”

The cyclops brought down the axe, smashing the furniture into kindling.

“That one!” Captain Cook thrust a finger at Shazam, floating near the ceiling. “Get that one!”

It swung the axe at Shazam and smashed another gaping hole in the wall.

“Hey!” said Wally, hopping back and forth. “I’m right here! Hit me, hit me, hit me!”

The axe came down hard on the floor – hard enough to embed it in the concrete beneath the tiles – and the cyclops tugged on it, grunting aloud in exertion.

“Shazam – now!”

Lightning hit the cyclops, bright and hard, and it spasmed, muscles jerking, hands unclenching – releasing the axe. Shazam dove for it, sliding the last few feet across the floor and heaving it one handed out of the concrete. He leapt to his feet, wheeling on the cyclops.

“What now?” said Wally.

“I got this,” said Shazam.

The cyclops was lumbering towards them. Shazam angled the axe at its chest – and the symbols began to glow. Electricity sparked and rippled around the blade, power building. His cape whipped as if caught in the wind and as lighting arced out of the blade his eyes glowed white – the lighting struck the cyclops –

– And the world exploded around them.

The force of it threw Wally off his feet, his vision whiting out. The kaboom echoed all around him and for a moment he lay stunned, blinking away spots.

He got unsteadily to his feet. Dust was settling around them like snow. The last chunks of the cyclops’s broken body were falling to the ground. Shazam was pointing the still-sparking axe at the spot where it had been standing, his eyes brilliant white. He stood motionless; his face was hard and Wally had never seen him look less human.

He turned the axe on Captain Cook.

The little man was on his back in the rubble, his hands held up as if in surrender. As Wally stepped closer he saw that there were tears on his face. “Please,” he was saying. “Please – I’m sorry, please don’t kill me –”

The white fire faded from Shazam’s eyes, and Wally breathed out. Shazam adjusted his grip, but didn’t lower the axe.

Footsteps crunched on the rubble outside. A woman peered into the circus tent, pale and wide-eyed. Two kids appeared at her ankles, gazing up at Shazam in awe.

Shazam turned to her and said, with his most friendly and approachable smile, “Hello, ma’am! Would you mind calling the police?”

She nodding, already reaching for her phone; and Captain Cook slumped, defeated, into the rubble.

The police were cuffing the ol’ Captain as he hung up his communicator. Shazam wandered over, idly swinging the axe.

“You good?” said Wally, nodding at his chest.

“Huh?” Shazam glanced down at himself. “Oh – yeah.” He touched the scorched stripe on his suit. “That smarted. How about you?”

“Mostly better,” Wally said. His ribs still kind of ached.

“Cool,” said Shazam. “So you gonna tell me what you were doing in here?”

“Something stupid.” Wally stretched out his back. “I spoke to the Bat.”

“Oh, yeah? Is he mad?”

“He was pretty terse with me,” said Wally. “But we got the axe, so he can’t get that mad at us.”

Shazam laughed, idly swinging the axe back and forth, testing the feel of it. “Hey, you know, I like this thing,” he remarked. “I like the way it handles.”

Uh-huh, Wally thought. “Alright,” he said, holding out his hands. “Give it.”

“Hm?”

“I’m in charge here,” said Wally. “I’m taking the axe. Hand it over.”

Shazam looked at the axe. “You sure?”

“Yeah –”

“It’s pretty heavy.”

“Just give it,” said Wally.

“If you’re sure.” Shazam held it out, his eyes big and innocent in a way that Wally really ought to have been more suspicious of. In his defence, it had been a long day.

He grabbed the axe – and when Shazam let go it dropped to the floor, wrenching his arm almost out of its goddamn socket and coming about half an inch away from breaking all his toes. “Motherfucker!” he exclaimed.

“Flash,” Shazam laughed. “Language.”

“Oh, you piece of shit kid.” Wally rubbed his arm. “I hate you so much.”

Shazam laughed harder. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Lifting the axe he swung it onto his shoulder as if it was weightless. Goddamn, Wally hated his teammates and their idiot super strength. He hated all of them.

“We done here?” said Shazam.

Wally heaved a sigh. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go face the music.”

“What part of do not engage did you two not understand?”

“Okay,” said Wally, holding up his hands, “okay, look –”

“So we went a little off mission,” said Shazam, the axe still slung over his shoulder. “These things happen.”

“It was my fault, Bats.”

“The important thing is that we –” Shazam turned to him, his mouth falling open. “Hey, that’s right! It was your fault!” Jerking a thumb at Wally he said to the Batman, “It was his fault.”

“Yeah, okay, you don’t have to rub it in,” said Wally.

“Sorry,” said Shazam, contrite. “I’m just kind of surprised it wasn’t my fault.”

“I went off mission,” said Wally. “Shazam bailed me out. I’m sorry.”

The Batman said, “Hm.”

“Is that thing – safe now?” said Vic, eying the axe.

Shazam hefted it. “I think so?” he said. “Yeah – I’m pretty sure I turned it off.”

“You’re pretty sure?” said Vic.

“Hey, give me a break,” said Shazam. “I’m new to the whole magic thing as well, you know.”

“It was flashing a bunch earlier,” Wally pointed out. “It’s stopped now.”

“It’s highly dangerous,” said the Batman. “We need to be sure it’s inert.”

“It’s pretty sweet is what it is,” said Shazam, giving it a swing. “Maybe I’ll keep it.”

“You –” The Bat’s shoulders slumped, and uncharacteristically gently he said, “You’re not keeping the axe, son.”

“Aw, Batman,” Shazam whined, “you never let me do anything fun.”

The Batman held out his hand.

Shazam looked at the axe. “Okay, I promise I’m not gonna try and keep it,” he said, “but it’s real heavy and I don’t think you’d be able to lift it. Ask Wally.”

“Oh, it’s real heavy,” said Wally.

The Batman sighed. “Give it to Cyborg.”

“Sure – okay,” said Shazam, handing it over.

“Man,” said Vic, staggering a little under the sudden weight. “That is heavy.” He looked to the Batman. “Are we gonna give it back to the museum?”

“I’m not sure that’s wise,” said the Bat. “Now that we know how dangerous it is we need to make sure it’s properly contained.”

Yeah. Wally wasn’t wild about not giving it back to the museum, but he had to admit making sure it didn’t go haywire and start generating monsters again might be a little above the curators’ paygrade.

“Oh, hey!” said Shazam. “I actually might be able to help with that.”

Captain Cook’s Cwazy World of Attractions was starting to grow on him.

He’d found a bench in a quiet spot overlooking the park, the elderly big wheel to his right, the sad-looking rollercoaster up ahead, and there he sat, eating his oily popcorn, watching emergency services mill around the circus tent.

All in all, he thought, it’d been a pretty good day.

“Hey,” said the kid, leaning on the back of the bench.

Wally started. “Oh, hey,” he said. “Sneaking up on me again?”

“Sorry,” said the kid. He boosted himself over the bench, settling in next to Wally. He was holding two cans and he held one out. “I got you a soda.”

“Oh, thanks,” said Wally. He opened it up, juggling his popcorn.

The day was wearing on. The park would be closing soon. He wondered if it would open again; probably not.

He heaved a sigh. “You did good work today.”

“Thanks,” said the kid. “You too.”

“Aw, let’s face it,” said Wally. “You did most of the heavy lifting today.”

“Well – yeah,” said the kid.

Wally snorted into his soda. “Axe all squared away?” he said.

“Uh-huh.”

“Cool,” said Wally. “Hey, am I ever gonna get to see the Rock?”

“The Rock of Eternity?” said the kid. “Maybe. If you’re good.”

Wally laughed.

His thoughts strayed once again to what he’d seen in the circus tent.

In Chicago, when he’d first met the kid, it had been as if a mask had fallen away; like they’d peeled back Shazam’s outer layer and found out what was hiding beneath. In the circus tent, when he’d seen ease with which Shazam handled the axe – the raw power he’d been able draw on – the white fire in his eyes – it had been as if the same thing had happened, but in the other direction. For a few short moments there had been nothing human in those eyes.

He looked at the kid. His attention had strayed to the rollercoaster, watching an almost-empty car chug up to the first drop. The late afternoon breeze was picking at his hair. He looked real young. Real normal. Entirely unlike Shazam.

Wally sipped his soda. “You gonna head home soon?” he said. “They must be missing you by now.”

The kid looked at his knees. “Yeah.”

“I was serious about the note, you know,” said Wally.

“It’ll be fine,” said the kid. “I’ll talk to them.”

“You think they’ll be okay with it?”

The kid shrugged. “Probably not.”

He’d come out because he’d found the axe, Wally reflected. He’d come out cause for better or for worse he’d got wrapped up in the mission and he was the only one who could finish it. He’d come out to deal with a loose end.

Maybe he’d come out for the last time. Wally felt a pang in his chest, at the idea that this might be their last mission together. A couple of months ago – when the truth had first come out – he might have been okay with that. He’d have to be okay with it, if it was how things shook out.

He hoped things didn’t shake out that way.

“Hey – listen,” he said, setting down his popcorn and reaching into his jacket. “I’m glad you stuck around. I wanted to give you something.”

“Yeah?”

He groped in his pocket and handed over a slip of paper. “Here you go.”

The kid stared at it. “What’s this?”

“It’s my phone number,” said Wally.

“What,” said the kid, pulling a face, “your actual one?”

“Yeah,” said Wally. “It’s my cell number. I just –” Shit. Okay. He should have planned out what he was going to say. “If you ever – need anything, or if you just want to talk – you can talk to me, okay?”

The kid was holding out his phone number like he didn’t know what to do with it. “You know I’m fourteen, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“So I don’t call people on the phone?” said the kid.

“You – I do also know how to text, alright?” said Wally. “I’m twenty-seven, I’m not a grandpa.”

“Sure,” said the kid dubiously. But to Wally’s relief he took out his phone and began to key the number in. His eyes on the screen he said, “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Things are – good, right now?” He said it like he wasn’t sure how to put something as simple as that short statement into words. Like he couldn’t quite believe it was true. Looking at Wally properly he added, “Things are pretty good.”

“I’m glad.” Wally sipped soda. “You think things are gonna stay good?”

“Yeah.” The kid nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Good,” said Wally.

He settled back on the bench. There were a lot more questions he wanted to ask, like were things not good for you before. Like how’d you end up where you are now – what happened to you. Like has anyone ever hurt you, and if so where can I find them.

He shouldn’t pry. “Hell of a day, huh?”

“Yeah,” said the kid. “Definitely like. Top twenty weirdest days since I’ve been doing this.”

“Hmm, I’d say top fifty,” said Wally. “But I’ve been doing this longer than you so y’know. It balances out.”

The kid laughed.

Wally’s gaze wandered out over the park; the emergency vehicles were driving away. The rollercoaster car was completing a circuit. There was only a handful of people still kicking around the park. He wondered what they’d do with the animals in the petting zoo.

He breathed out. “You know, kid –”

The kid said, “Billy.”

“Huh?” Wally looked at him.

He was toying with his soda can, his eyes big and earnest. “My name’s Billy.”

“Billy,” Wally echoed, a smile spreading across his face. He proffered his soda can. “Hi, Billy. Good to meet you.”

“Good to meet you too,” said Billy, laughing a little. He tapped their cans together. Cheers.”

“Cheers,” said Wally. Another car was chugging up the rollercoaster. He finished his thought. “Today went pretty well.”

“Could have gone a lot worse,” Billy said. Wally hmmed in agreement.

Billy shuffled a little closer on the bench. “Hey,” he said, nudging him. “Are we good?”

Wally looked him in the eye. He was so young – and so serious – it made his chest ache. He was painfully earnest; and for the first time, Wally thought he caught a glimpse of Shazam, in his expression.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. We’re good.”