After The Flash

Chapter 1: The Trip

        "Tom, Tom!"

        Tom Samson woke with a start. His room smelled like cedar and exhaust. Right, I had been working on that new invention again, he thought. He rubbed his eyes to get the sleep out of them. As he climbed out of bed, he noticed that there was lots of dirt caked under his fingernails. He saw his dirty clothes, smeared with a combination of dirt, dust, grime, and some other weird substance. He got up and immediately headed for the door.

        His roommate, Nick, took a sip of his chamomile tea while reading the New York Times. "Well I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath. "Somebody is finally ticking to their New Years Resolution, huh?" He strode over to the toaster and plopped two slices of bread inside it, then turned it on for two minutes. Nick finally looked up from the magazine. "Dude, did you hear about the storm that happened in Fort Worth, Texas?"

        Tom raised an eyebrow at him. He had never been excited about anything that Nick said, because it was usually a bunch of bull. But this caught his attention. He was working on a new invention that would make storm chasing less dangerous. "Continue," he stated.

        Nick continued talking, stating that he would have talked if Tom liked it or not. He continued on, saying, "Well, at this antibiotics warehouse called Jake and Johnson. The people said there was a nuclear explosion that destroyed half the town. Only half the town survived. The rest is a barren wasteland." Nick shuddered at the thought of death by nuclear means. He always said that death by anything man-made is completely "harrowing". Despite the break, he still continued.

        "The government has not sent any reporters into the general area, for fear of radiation. But, they never said that it was illegal to go there yourself, just that it would be unwise." Just as Nick finished his sentence, the toast sprung up from the toaster. Tom opened the refrigerator next to him and took out some I Cant Believe It's Not Butter that he stuffed into a container. Next, he opened the drawer behind him, took out a butter knife, and spread the butter onto the toast. The butter seeped into the toast like water into farmland.

        Tom finished one piece, then handed another to Nick. "Might want to eat this. Were going to need food for where were going."

       He skidded down the hallway, into the computer room. After Nick's little story about Fort Worth, Tom felt a deep need to go there and see for himself, see the destruction that ended 311, 156 lives. He pulled up a flight to Houston, Texas. Then, he rented a Jaguar from Hertz Car Service. Just to look fancy, he thought. Nick walked into the room, not knocking. "Common courtesy, dude." Tom retorted. Nick shrugged it off.

        "We better board that flight of yours to make it." said Nick. He grabbed a suitcase and was about to go pack, but Tom stopped him. "Do you really think we need clothes in Fort Worth?" he asked, trying to make it sound as rhetorical as he could. 

        Nick stared at him in deadly silence. "Why do you want to go there? I was just telling you something, please don't go and do this." 

        Tom smirked and looked away. "Sorry, but I have to leave." Tom shoved Nick away and moved toward the basement. He let the ladder down and walked down the creaky steps. He coughed and turned on the light. In the corner, next to a broken 1980's TV that he intended to sell until Nick moved in, was Tom's machine. 

        It wasn't much, but it was a bit of AI. When you let it go into the air, it would immediately fly up. With a modified version of a walkie-talkie, you could control what it did. When you wanted it to come back, you would say, "Drop", and it would fall into your hands.  I wonder if it will work with nuclear things. Well, I'm about to find out. Fort Worth, here we come.