Call to Arms, Part One:
“Opening Gambit”
The Ray tried to roll with the punch, but his assailant still managed to land enough force to knock him back forty feet or so. The impact on his back had him yelling in pain as he landed like a rag doll; his arms and legs flailing out to the side. His head was throbbing with a dull pain and he couldn’t concentrate on anything. His powers were keeping him alive under the onslaught, but just barely and he couldn’t focus enough to use them in any sort of offensive. He felt a hand grab his right ankle, and then he started moving down, as if being pulled across the ground. He threw his hands in the air but they grabbed at nothing. He felt so useless and desperately tried to concentrate; to conjure up enough energy to throw a force bolt at his enemy. It was useless though, as he was struggling even to stay conscious; the darkness beginning to appear at the edges of his vision and spreading out over him. He switched his attention to fighting to stay awake, but even that was difficult. He tried to focus on something to keep him awake, and found his mind drifting back to how this had all began…. Two hours ago… Ray Terrill awoke to the sound of his neighbours fighting. It was a usual occurrence, the Johnstones shouting and screaming at this time of the day but usually Ray was awake and preparing dinner. This time however, he was recovering from a particularly nasty battle with Dr Polaris, who was now back safely inside Bellereve maximum-security prison. On top of that, he was still just recovering from the bullet he took during the Mageddon crisis. He hadn’t blamed the soldier who had shot him – he had been confused and under the affect of Mageddon’s hate, but he could have died if his powers hadn’t kicked in and if Aquaman’s great sense of timing hadn’t been spot on and he hadn’t arrived to intercede. The fight with Dr. Polaris had lasted most of the night and some of the morning, and he felt drained when it was all over. He had returned to his apartment around noon and after preparing some eggs he decided to forego some well needed sun recharge and instead went off to sleep. Three hours later and the Johnstones’ daily battle cry had driven away all chance of rest and recuperation. He spent the next half an hour trying to read a book, and try to catch up on the game shows, but to no avail. He was restless, and decided to take to the air to try and stimulate himself. Ray pulled on his overcoat and wandered out into the cold November evening. As he felt the first flakes of snow hit his face and neck, he pulled his collar tighter, as if that would help against a temperature in the low single figures. He hated the cold, less than he hated the dreaded darkness, but not much. To him, they went hand in hand; two evils that were the antithesis of all he was and represented. Both had played a big part in his childhood, when he was forced to stay in the basement of his house, bereft of the light. Light that would one day give him his fantastic powers and open up a whole new world for him; a world of heroism, of adventure and of experiences he couldn’t even had begun to imagine in his cold, lonely existence. Light gave him life, and looking back on those dark years he knew he hadn’t been living at all. All the years since, he had been striving to make up for the loss, and doing as much good as he could with the powers he had been blessed with. The cold disappeared with the shrill scream that cut the night. Ray spun around, trying to look for the source, but he was still disorientated and didn’t know where it had come from. He decided that the air was the best place to look. When he found the screaming woman at the construction yard he saw that she was safe. She had passed out for some reason, and lay on an old mattress which someone had probably thrown out; thinking this was some sort of dump. Perhaps she had seen, or thought she had seen something which made her frightened and she had cried out, Ray thought. At least she had fainted on something soft, as all around him were twisted metal bars or piles of broken rocks. As he bent over to check on her pulse, he felt what seemed to be an iron bar smash into his back… Ray was jolted back to reality as he realised he had stopped. He lay on a heap of broken masonry and contorted steel, staring up into the overcast night sky. A throbbing in his back made him feel the worst – paralysis, but the pain in his left leg helped to reassure him that this wasn’t the case. A dull ache pulsed along his side – probably broken ribs, he thought - so he concentrated his powers to that area to try and heal himself as much as possible. He moved his head to the right to see if he could find his foe. He didn’t have to look far. In a corner of the construction yard, he stood, dressed from head to toe in purple armour shimmering in the light from a safety lamp fixed high above him. He seemed not to be moving, just standing facing a pile of huge steel bars with his arms down at his side. Who is he, Ray thought, and what is he up to? “Wouldn’t you like to know?” The voice pierced the night and Ray felt a sick feeling enter his stomach. Had he spoken out loud? He hadn’t thought so, so how could the enemy have known what he thou… “Come now,” the voice seemed to reply to the question, “do I really need to answer that one?” “Telepathy” Ray croaked, just as the enemy spun around. “Indeed” he growled “And that’s the least of my powers.” Ray noticed a glow around the man’s body that he hadn’t seen before; a glow that hadn’t been there previously. Before he could move, the man was standing beside him – super speed? He reached down and grabbed his right ankle again, squeezing with great pressure as he did so. Ray cried out, as he felt his ankle bone snap under the force. And then he was flying. It felt good to have the wind hit his face, and feel the breeze tug gently at his costume. No matter what good he did in his life; no matter what victories he had, or the people he saved, only flying gave him the satisfaction he yearned for. It was a kind of freedom, which made up for all those years locked away; the complete opposite from the enforced caging he had experienced for eighteen years. Of all his powers, flight was the one that made him feel most complete; sure, force bolts were all well and good – spectacular light shows that also packed a punch – but they did nothing to boost his confidence or make him feel free. Flying did. He felt his right shoulder break when he finally landed on a pile of rubble. He awoke to darkness; a deep, silent black that made him believe for a moment that he was blind. He blinked and shook his head violently from side to side but nothing could shift the black … and he felt fear. It crawled up his back, sending a shiver along his spine. He felt its cold fingers curl around the back of his neck; the tips searching across the soft flesh until it found his Adam’s apple and beat a tattoo along it. He tried to move his hands, but his arms were glued to the ground. He tried to kick out with his legs, but he couldn’t feel them. Then the hands stopped. He felt two thumbs press just under the back of his skull, and the fingers tightened at the front. He opened his mouth, but no noise came out. Ray Terrill closed his eyes, as the life was squeezed from him. “Ray?” He opened his eyes, and light sprang into life in front of him. It should have burned him, but it didn’t; it felt refreshing and new. “Ray, is that you son?” The voice made him jump, and it was then that he felt his legs once more. He reached out with his hands and rubbed them. “Dad?” he whispered as a blurred figure appeared in the distance before him. “Ray, it is you.” The voice said. “Boy, am I glad to see you, son.” “Dad?” Even as he said the word for the second time, he still couldn’t believe that it was his father. The voice sounded right, but his father was dead; he had been dead for over two years. He had seen it with his own eyes. The figure came closer, and as it did so it came into focus. Ray’s mouth dropped open as the blurred figured sharpened until his father, the original Ray, stood a few feet in front of him. “Ray, Ray, Ray.” His father said, shaking his head slowly. “I am so disappointed in you, son. I thought that finally I could trust you; that you were able to take on the mantle from your father and show me some respect. But I can see I was wrong about that.” “No Dad, no I…” Ray stuttered, as he watched his fathers clothes fade and change until they resembled the yellow costume of the original Ray; of his father, Happy Terrill. “And to think, you wondered why I kept you locked up for all those years.” His father continued, walking slowly towards him. “You thought I lied, that I wanted to keep your true nature from you, but you were wrong. I did it to protect you and to make sure you wouldn’t besmirch my good name.” “Dad, I didn’t. I haven’t…” His father raised his right hand, and Ray saw it pulse with raw power. “I’m here to take it back son,” he roared “I’m here to give the world the real Ray” A huge energy bolt shot out from his father’s hand and hit Ray straight in the face. It burned and he screamed…. The power raced through his body and he shot into the air; a glowing trail of energy streaming out behind him lighting the evening sky. His body screamed at him to stop; the pain almost unbearable but he knew what he had to do. He had to get away and get help. For all his powers, he was completely outmatched by this unknown enemy and had to find a way of stopping him before he could reek more destruction. On the ground below, his foe watched him race off into the distance and he laughed. “Coward,” he growled “I thought you were a hero. What a laugh.” With that, he turned and began walking back to the pile of steel bars. After a few steps however, he hesitated. What if he wasn’t running away? What if he was just getting reinforcements or recuperating his powers? That couldn’t happen. With that, he turned back and focused on The Ray as he arced through the sky. The pain was almost unbearable, but Ray did his best to shut it out. His prime objective was to get to safety and call on the JLA. They could engage the enemy and give him time to heal, before he returned and joined the battle. He felt that all he needed was an hour or so, and he would be ready for another round; and in the meantime they could knock the bad guy down a peg or two. He suddenly felt a heat rise up from below, and he looked down. The horror was visible across his face as he saw his foe streaking up towards him, propelled by either flight or momentum. He tried to move to the left; and evasive action, but a hand lashed out and grabbed his foot. “You’re going nowhere!” his enemy roared, and followed up with a punch to Ray’s solar plexis. Ray screamed in pain, and it was all too much for him. As he hurtled back towards the construction yard gaining more and more speed and force as he went, he gave in to pain and fatigue and blacked out once more. He didn’t feel a thing when his crumpled body smashed into the cold, hard ground. “And that’s that.” The enemy hissed, as he looked down at the battered figure of The Ray, lying still and lifeless in the self made crater. He couldn’t be sure the job was finished yet, and resolved to end it there and then. Turning nonchalantly in the air, he slowly flew back to the ground to complete the task in hand. When he reached the crater, he slowly picked up the fragile body of The Ray and held him up to his face. All Ray’s energy was gone, and he hung lifeless in the air as Ray Terrill. “So, what were you going to do?” the enemy growled. “Call the JLA?” He laughed out loud. “Idiot! They have their hands full with another distraction: some woman calling herself, the “Queen of Fables”. Hah! I saw them battling her on the news, and it doesn’t look as though there’s going to be much chance of them coming here to help out.” Ray’s body twitched and his head jerked to the side. “Final death throes, huh? Well, lets get this over with.” At that, Ray’s eyes sprang open. His enemy was startled. No matter, he thought, a well aimed punch or two would finish this. “I…” Ray tried to speak, but it was he could do to concentrate on forming words. “Don’t talk.” The enemy whispered. “Go back to sleep so you don’t have to witness your own death. I’m merciful, really.” Ray’s mouth broke into a huge grin, as he focused on something behind his foe’s back. “I...” he croaked “I have other … friends, as you … can see.” The enemy spun around to see what Ray had been looking at. The last thing Ray Terrill saw before he blacked out once more, were the figures of Firestorm, Power Girl, the Elongated Man, Zatanna, Black Lightning and Jade. To Be Continued... Next Issue: Who is the mysterious foe and what is his ultimate goal? How will the heroes fare against him and can they get to The Ray in time to save him? Find out in Call to Arms part 2 of 3. Previous Issue | Next Issue |
