View source for Day of the Tornado

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Dark clouds had settled over Millennium, a summer storm, searing heat meeting the last trough of a cold winter, fueled by the Lakes. Craig Carson knew it was going to be a bad one. It was perhaps the least useful of his powers, his storm sense. It wasn’t as showy as throwing a tank at VIPER or hurtling across the sky at Mach 2, or throwing thunderbolts. But on a day like today, it was useful.

“Guys,” Craig said, contacting UNTIL. “We have a situation.”

The officer on duty was Agent Catherine Shaw, a two year UNTIL vet, if a mere two years of service allowed you to call someone a veteran. Comm duty in the Millennium office was a far cry from her previous tenure serving in Afghanistan, but Ms. Shaw was able to find a challenge in anything. As soon as she received Thundrax's signal, she instructed the nearest drone to intercept.

“I copy, Captain,” she said, quickly tracing the rank through the signal. “It’s not the best signal. There’s a lot of bad weather.”

“I know,” Craig said. “That’s the situation.”

Craig patched his HUD into the UNTIL signal, and Catherine Shaw gulped as she found herself staring at a large funnel cloud, about to make touchdown.

“I believe the words that come to mind is “Oh shit.”" Craig said.

“Protocols, Captain,” Shaw answered. “No cussing on duty. Except in Gaelic.”

“And what’s Gaelic for “Oh shit”?”

“O cack,” Shaw answered.

Craig shook his head. “I was expecting more of a tongue-twister,” he quipped.

The agent chuckled and turned her attention to the storm.  “Taking a radar snapshot,” she announced, and she frowned. “It’s an F4.”

“What does that reset on my keyboard?” Craig asked, joking.

“It means it’s almost the worst kind of twister we can imagine.” Shaw answered. “Three hundred kilometers per hour. Three hundred meter radius, moving...”

“Sounds like the tornado that hit Edmonton in ’87. SUNDER had to help clean it up.” Craig said. “And I can sense its path. Extrapolating... it’s going to hit five apartment buildings’. That’s possibly hundreds of casualties. I've got to stop it...”

"But what can you do to stop THAT, Thundrax?”

Craig considered the problem for a minute. “I’ve been developing new powers lately. Weather control. I was able to use them in my battle with Primordo to save people when he summoned a localized hurricane. If I can reach the core, I may be able to take control and get it to calm down...”

Agent Shaw looked into the virulent storm as it raged. With its wide base of destruction, ascending into the crown of stormheads, blacker than black, lightning flashing as it raged, it resembled nothing less than a nuclear explosion that would not go away. Craig Carson was a man, 6’7” tall. The storm was well over a kilometer in height and the funnel was hundreds of meters wide. What could one man do against that?

As it turned out, little, at least at first. Craig Carson charged into the storm, got caught in the funnel, and like an inconvenient house, was whipped around in the vortex and came shooting out the other side. He slammed into a nearby park, uoending a lot of turf and groaning as he pulled himself from the ground, which was wet and slick from the storm that had accompanied the tornado.

“Well, that sucks.” Craig moaned. He had to slap below his ear to get the comm inplant to work. “Do you have any recommendations?”

“UNITY is finishing up an assignment, Captain,” Shaw said. “I would recommend waiting for them.”

“I don’t think we have time,” Craig stated, and he brushed himself off. “Well, let me try this again. This time I’ll thundercharge myself.” Craig brought a small storm around himself, clouds and energy bristling at his fingertips, lightning overlaid on his form, a coursing electric fire. Having ignited the torch of his challenge, Craig Carson screamed and shot himself into the storm. Three times he tried to reach the core, and three times he was given the bum’s rush, being unceremoniously deposited over the landscape in less than dignified positions. Craig mouthed an obscenity.

“Are you hurt?” Shaw asked.

“Yeah,” Craig replied. “I’ve got a very sore ass, and I took a mortal wound to my pride. Gonna need surgery when this is over. By the way, miss, what’s your name?”

“Catherine Shaw, sir,”

“That’s Catherine Shaw, Craig,” Thundrax corrected, “You ever meet my brother?”

“No sir,” Shaw replied.

“Good,” Craig nodded. “That means I don’t have to apologize for him. Well, Ms. Shaw, I did feel a connection on the last pass. I think in a couple more tries, I may just figure this thing out.”

“Captain, it’s only a minute away from the first apartment building at its current ground velocity.”

“I know,” Craig said, and he charged again into the fray.

I’m not used to this, he thought as he approached the sky horror. I’m a Man vs. Man guy, or on occasion Man vs. Himself. Man vs. Nature isn’t in my line of work.

He was bounced again and lay on his back, staring into the black sky. “Well, what do you know,” he said as he composed himself for the next attempt. “I actually found a use for the crap I learned in Elementary school.”

The storm continued to rage, as if mocking him. Craig charged again; this time he held himself in the storm's edge, screaming as the vortex battered him. The winds pounded every inch of him, black rain washed him, soaking him to the bone, and soon the winds were swamped with debris as it reached the first of the apartment buildings.

"STOP!" Craig screamed. He may as well have remained silent.

The stormhowl laughed at him, and there were snapping sounds, numerous snaps and groans and crunches. The demolition had begun. Four stories filled with lives, human lives, people about to have their evening meal, kids playing on their cell phones, a man, having gotten drunk early, who was arguing with the weather channel. Many, living in apartments that faced the storm, screamed as the shambling abyss swallowed them.

“No!” Craig shouted at the storm. “No! No! No!” But the twister was merciless, and soon Craig was surrounded by death and debris. Lives were destroyed. Lives were ended, thrown like an angry child hurling blocks. And Craig, a ragdoll in the maelstrom, a lowly little thing, was buried in the debris. And yet, for one terrible second, Craig felt something awesome and awful and unexpected.

He felt, for the briefest of instants, like he belonged there.

The hero shuddered, looking at a dead body lying torn in the detritus. How could he feel at home in that?

Craig sighed, closed his eyes, and thought of the person who lay dismembered next to him. A middle-aged African-American woman, probably a mother. The apartment was occupied by the lower middle class, the working poor, struggling students and families with single parents. Nobody cared about them. No one would miss them. They were the people who held no worth in society, no status, the disposables.

“No fucking way,” Craig said, his voice a quivering, sobbing, tremolo expressing anger that was as heavy as grief, and he vowed that no one else would die that day. He also knew that he would probably not keep that promise.

"Captain!" Shaw shouted, her voice not hiding her alarm. "Captain!"

Some captain he was. Captains were leaders of men, saviors of those under their charge. The hero rose to his feet and moaned. "I'm alive. Not even all that hurt. The building is completely destroyed. We'll need a team to sweep for survivors. It looks bad."

“I’m trying to get some help for you, Captain,” Shaw reported.

“Most of Millennium City’s heroes are engaged in a battle downtown,” a voice said, coming through the intercom. “The Champions are dealing with an extra dimensional threat. You are alone, Craig.”

Thundrax sighed. “Welcome to the party, HUGIN.” He said, recognizing UNTIL’s AI.

“HUGIN?” Shaw wondered. HUGIN was UNTIL’s AI. It was the closest thing UNTIL had to a big boss, short of the Secretary-Marshall. It was as though President Obama took over the line from a 911 operator.

“You may assist,” HUGIN said. ”Craig, I’m aware of what you’re attempting to do. But need I remind you that you were only partially able to mitigate Primordo’s winds? And the winds in this storm possess an energy level four orders of magnitude higher than that you faced on that occasion. And these new abilities of yours are untested.”

“I know,” Craig said, catching his breath and staring at the funnel.

“We should think of a new strategy,” Shaw said.

Craig looked beyond, to the nearest apartment building, an eighteen story tower. “No this is our best shot. Last time, I felt something when I was in the storm, a connection. If I can get to the funnel again and connect fully, I think I can just nudge it,” he said. “No more deaths,” he added, and took off again into the vortex.

Craig found that the tornado, having touched down, had captured a great deal of debris. Craig was struck by the carriage of an SUV and the front of a pick-up truck, along with a lot of loose jetsom. In seconds, Craig was rebuffed, laying on his back, groaning again.

“Well, that didn’t work,” Craig said. The comm was barely functioning. “I need to try something more drastic. Time’s almost up.” The storm cloud was only a few hundred meters from the second apartment.
 
Eighteen stories. Hundreds of lives. When Craig first got his powers, decades ago, the woman who had gifted them to her, the goddess with his mother's eyes, had told him he was worthy of the gift of Living Thunder. Living Thunder. What did that even mean? He could feel storms, he always could, he sensed them with an eerie intuition. He could always guess when they arrived, how strong they'd be, know their path and intensity. That sense is what brought him here in the first place, to the unexpected apocalypse. But what if could he do more?

“I need to fully integrate myself into the storm before the debris can hit me.” Craig decided. "Give myself to it completely. Become the storm."

“Craig,” HUGIN asked. "Have you ever done anything even remotely like this before?"

"This would be a first time, yeah."

“I strongly advise against this." the AI warned him. "Total integration could mean the complete loss of self."

There was no time to argue. Craig took a few precious moments to compose himself. The storm had reached the steel gating around the complex, tearing it like an energetic child pulling on hot taffy. “No,” the hero answered. “I’ve got to do this. I know I can do it, or at least I’ve got a chance of doing this. And as long as I have a hope, they have a hope.”

“Craig,” HUGIN said. “You will likely die.”

Craig sighed. “My death is thirty-two years overdue, HUGIN.” the hero replied. That had always been his attitude, He remembered the night of the thunderbolt, that woman’s eyes – his dead mother’s eyes – and the pain as the lightning bolt sheered him, transforming him. He should have died, but instead it started the ride of a lifetime. What a ride it had been. Decades of punches, acclaim, colorful costumes, long speeches and tragedy. And the people, oh, the people. He remembered those who had been close to him: Shamus, Avenger, Ravenspeaker, Justiciar, Ann, Jim Exington. Sarah. Gabe. Faye. Chivalry, Ted. Inde. Cord. Lucy. Rune. Amber. Hunter. Zeph. Keio. Max. Flynn and Aeva. Arnie. So many damn people had touched his life. Fuck it, he wanted to hug them all.

“If this is how I go out,” Craig said, a lump in his throat. “Tell my friends I love them. There's got to be a list somewhere.”

“I will,” HUGIN said.

“I always wondered how Vanguard felt when he saw the asteroid, back on the day Detroit died. I bet he said: "to hell with it, I’m going out at full speed.” I bet it felt something like this...”

And with those words, Craig Carson launched himself into the heart of the twister.

As he approached the funnel, Craig slowed, and he concentrated, gathering the storm around him,. Again the winds buffeted him, and again the debris battered him. But this time, Craig let himself go. He attuned himself to the storm, made it a part of his thunder. He became its lightning and was shot into the cloud to rage. His voice was lightning. His touch was lightning, and the thunder became his will.

And the voice screamed: “STOP!”

''His Spirit made the heavens beautiful,
and his power pierced the gliding serpent.
These are just the beginning of all that he does,
merely a whisper of his power.
Who, then, can comprehend the thunder of his power?”''

Of course, his thunder was only the merest reflection of the One spoken in the book of Job - nonetheless, it would have to do.  He screamed STOP! with a voice of thunder, over and over again. The storm bristled like a horse that was only starting to calm. He sent his thunder into the storm, extending his will into storm fingers, following the lines of pressure and velocity, taming the devil winds. His senses blackened, and even the howl was no more.

“UNTIL, are you reading me?” Craig signalled UNTIL. He repeated the message three times, and the third time, the message went from a crackle to a scream that nearly blasted everyone on channel.

“I don’t understand this signal gain, sir.”  Agent Shaw said.

“He’s tapped into the storm,” HUGIN said. “No. He IS the storm now. Is there any sign of his body?”

Shaw quickly played back the footage, and to her horror, she saw Craig flayed alive, his physical form disintegrating and swallowed by the funnel. She replayed it several times and each time the horror mounted.

“I see it,” HUGIN said.

“The storm’s changing.” Agent Shaw noted. “Slowing down...”

“AHHH!” Thundrax screamed through the comm, almost breaking the receivers. “Damn! This hurts!” He shouted a series of obscenities. And even profanity, which Craig never used.

“Craig,” HUGIN said. “You’re feeling the entire storm now. Its turbulence is your psyche.”

“I can’t feel my body, HUGIN,” Craig said, and he screamed again, as if you could torture a thunderbolt. So much of his life had been pain. And people dared to call this a glamorous job!

“Craig,” HUGIN admitted coldly. “There’s no sign of your physical form. You’re already dead. And what’s left of you is dying with the storm. As soon as that twister goes, you’re gone.”

Already dead. Craig wanted to laugh. He should have laughed. Why wasn’t he laughing?”

“Things are starting to slip, HUGIN,” Craig said. “I think I just lost my sense of humor. Literally.” He paused to consider this. The storm was slowing around him and the pain had ebbed; the wild dance in which he had become entangled was ending, the last notes were fading, and with them, Craig also faded. “I- I can’t remember my mom’s eyes. Or Jack’s face. Or the color of our old house.”

HUNIN would have nodded, if he had a body. “You’re dissipating in the storm. Your memories. Parts of your personality. Your brain’s processing centers were transferred into the storm, stored in electrical impulses, and now they’re fading as the storm fades.”

This was always the case of the Living Thunder. Craig could never stay long in the same place; how many people had he annoyed, over the long years, by arriving in a place and then leaving almost immediately? Stillness was death, and the serenity that should have brought peace only awakened a growing horror. “I’m- I’m frightened.” Craig said. “I think the p-part of me t-that’s brave is gone.”

“You need to hold on. To everything.”

“I don't know how to do that.” Craig admitted.

Shaw shook her head, projecting the latest data on screen. She needn’t have bothered. “The storm’s winds are down to an F2, dropping rapidly. And you’ve changed course away from the apartment. The people are safe now.” She reported.

“You won, Craig,” HUGIN said.

“I’m losing it!” Craig said, fear now obvious in his voice.

“Craig,” HUGIN said. “You need to hold yourself together just a little while longer. I’ve gotten through to UNITY. We’re almost clear for teleport. Quasar will be there in only a few more minutes. His energy form will absorb you and we can reconstitute you from there. Just a little longer, Craig.”
 
“I can’t! I’m falling apart!”

“A little bit more, Craig, please!” No one had ever heard HUGIN beg before. But the monitor only showed the storm abating, the funnel withdrawing into the clouds.

“The storm, it’s just... vanishing." Shaw said. She needn’t have spoken.

“Help me!” Craig shouted. “God help me!! Please God!”

“Winds have dropped below an F1. The funnel has completely gone...”

“HELP M—“

Then there was silence. A complete and utter silence, a tomb-like absence of noise and life. For a moment, the room fell as silent as any room that Catherine Shaw had ever been in.

“Did we just lose Thundrax?” she wondered in disbelief.

“Attention, UNTIL,” HUGIN’s voice resonated in every UNTIL installation on the planet, and even on Gateway in orbit above. Twenty-one minutes later, they would be spoken on Marsbase. “Captain Craig Alexander Carson has fallen. He gave his life as he lived it, in service of others, not wavering from his ideals, not giving into fear. All flags are to be lowered to half mast for three days, effective immediately, and a minute of silence will be observed, effective at the top of the hour.”

“Not giving into fear?” Miss Shaw observed. “But you heard him at the end. He was terrified.”

“Ms. Shaw,” HUNIN informed her. “The Craig Carson I knew faced down against Destroyer without powers and did not flinch. He walked into the flames of Firewing willingly, and entered the Qlipothic realm. What you heard at the end was not Craig Carson, it was a shard of his persona. A shattering. An echo, I intend to honor him as he deserves.” HUNIN paused. "There are only a handful of individuals that I call my friend. Craig was one of them. No one must ever know what he said at the end. Ever.”

“Aye sir,” Ms. Shaw answered. He had not phrased it as an order, but she knew it was one. She had no desire to share what she had heard. Death had a way of destroying one’s dignity. Fuck death.

Catherine Shaw, keeper of secrets, rose from her chair, asking to be dismissed. She would need to take a leave of absence, a long one. She, like the rest of the planet, would have to go on in a world with one fewer Canadian. Dr. Scott, a super powers expert from Duke, speculated that Craig might be still be alive, his psyche held in scattered storm particles, and many clung to those words. He was only “comic book dead”, people said, and that brought comfort and hope to them. Who could blame them? Yet even with that hope, Canada was stunned, close to shattered, and many whose lives he had touched were in tears. A superhero lives a thankless life until they die, and then the census comes in, the lives they saved, the people they made better, and Craig was better at making things better than many, and he had been in the game a long, long time. A pity it took death to get people to start counting.

Craig Carson went out screaming at a storm, saving lives. That made him a hero. Craig Carson went out terrified of death. That made him a man.

Thundrax had emphatically insisted that no memorial service be held for him – a request that was widely ignored, even for one who was only “comic book dead”. But Agent Shaw, who had heard the scream, heard the storm whimper, and saw the tornado disappear like magic before her eyes, knew otherwise. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt in her mind.

Craig Carson was dead. And he wasn’t coming back.


[[Category:Stories]]