Ghost From the Past
Folc4evernaday
Part 16
***
Perry White stared at the screen in shock, uncertain of what he’d just seen. A man ….a FLYING man had been captured on the satellite feed from EPRAD pushing the Nightfall asteroid away from Earth’s orbit. The fears that had filled his mind since they had announced the possibility of Earth’s existence being wiped out a few days ago subsided and he could feel the tension leave his body in a way he wasn’t used to…tears. He turned back to his office, closing the door behind him as he blocked out the cheering around him.
He sunk into his chair, wiping the tears from his eyes as he fought for some control over his emotions. It had been over a week now since he’d seen Alice. She had gone upstate to visit Jerry and ended up stuck, unable to get a flight out. He reached for the phone, praying for a connection. The phone rang three times when he heard the familiar voice on the other end, “Alice, honey?” He couldn’t hold the tears back anymore.
***
MYSTERIOUS PHENOMENA IN SPACE!
The headline for the Metro Gazette read.
CIEST MANIFIQUE!
The headline for the Paris Bulletin read.
ALIEN INVASION ON EARTH!
The headline for the Daily STAR read.
I’M HAVING THE SPACEMAN’S BABY!
The headline for the National Inquisitor read.
MIRACLE SAVE! SUPER MAN SAVES EARTH!
The headline for the Daily Planet read.
***
“We are in shock tonight as over the last few days we’ve been anticipating and preparing for the end only to be saved from Nightfall by this…..flying man. No one knows who he is or where he came from. We are indebted to him, whoever he is….wherever he is…” the President of the United States addressed the press.
“Mr. President? Do you feel this ‘flying man’ as you put it is friend or foe?” Ken Groberman from the Gazette asked.
“At this time, we don’t know enough about him, but by all appearances….he seems to be a friend,” The President said, “Next question?”
“Has anyone tried to contact this ‘flying man’ and find out if there are any others like him?” Mike McKee from the National Inquisitor asked.
The President sighed for a moment, “Mr. McKee, as I already stated we haven’t spoken to him, but if it makes you feel any better when EPRAD was checking the footage from the rescue there were no signs of any unidentified flying objects in Earth’s orbit,”
“But what if…”
“Enough of this!” Lois clicked the remote, turning the news coverage off. She looked around the living room of the Kent farmhouse and sighed. Martha and Jonathan had checked in with Rachel Harris to see if there had been any more sightings of Trask in Smallville but it seemed to be quiet. Martha was still nervous about returning to the farm after what happened to Wayne Irig, but Lois wanted someone to be here in case Clark came back here.
She had called in the story on the Nightfall rescue to Perry earlier who was piecing it together with comments from EPRAD and people Jimmy had talked to around Metropolis. For the most part, people were grateful. There didn’t seem to be a lot of fear, but rather gratitude that the world wasn’t ending. She still didn’t know how she felt about everything. The emotional ups and downs she’d felt over the last week should be considered an Olympic sport.
She should feel relieved. She should feel happy. There were many emotions she knew she should be feeling at the moment, but she didn’t. Trask was still out there. A man that possibly knew about Clark was out there with something that could hurt him…if Jamie were still alive…
‘No, don’t go there,’ she reminded herself.
She refused to allow herself to dwell on the what-ifs. It was too painful, especially now. How in the world was she supposed to tell him? He barely remembered her. Would he remember how to get back? His memory had been shaky at best when he’d left. She knew she should have said goodbye but her guilt wouldn’t allow her to. She was angry. There had been so much Clark and his parents had hidden from her for years and she was still trying to process everything.
Martha had said he was planning on telling her that weekend they’d returned to Smallville…that he’d wanted to tell her before then…What had stopped him? Why had he not told her he was hiding such a huge part of himself from her? Was he afraid she wouldn’t understand? Afraid she would turn him into the government?
She shuddered involuntarily at the last thought, knowing that was exactly what had happened to Clark when Trask had faked Clark’s death. Why had she not pushed harder when they kept telling her Clark was dead? Maybe if she’d fought harder they would have ...
‘No. You can’t rehash the past.’ She reminded herself. Years of therapy had taught her it did no good to relive the past. So where did she go from here? Did she still love Clark? Yes. Was she still hurt? Yes. So where did that leave them?
She stepped outside, taking a seat on the swing on the porch as she stared at the night sky, looking for a sign of Clark anywhere. There was still no sign of Clark. It had been hours since the news media had picked up the coverage of his rescue. Where was he?
Now that the threat of extinction was gone she had time to think and what she thought and what she felt were two completely different things. She was hurt he hadn’t told her about himself but she was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Until he got his memory back she’d never know the answers to the questions that were racing through her mind. The biggest question she had was for herself, though: How and when was she supposed to tell him about Jamie?
A loud sonic boom could be heard in the sky. She looked up and spotted a red streak coming in for a landing behind the barn. Realizing it had to be Clark she took a deep breath and headed toward the barn, “Here goes nothing,”
***
Inspector Henderson walked around what appeared to be an old abandoned warehouse with a two officers, responding to a request for backup on a noise disturbance call. “No answer. I don’t know what to do. The neighbors were complaining about strange noises coming from there….and then the smell…” Officer Joshua Reagan said as he followed Inspector Henderson around the perimeter.
“You said there was a possible….gunshot victim?” Henderson asked.
“Look!” Reagan pointed at the gun shell casings on the ground by the front door.
Henderson nodded then turned to the front door to pound on it, “Metropolis P.D. this is Inspector Henderson open up!” He hollered through the door.
No response.
He pounded on the door once more, “I repeat, this is Inspector Henderson with the Metropolis P.D. open up!”
No response.
He looked around the building and saw no signs of activity. It didn’t appear that anyone was there. He knelt down to examine the gun shell casing on the ground. It was bent….like it had been used. He spotted what looked like dried blood on the concrete and frowned, turning back to Officer Reagan, “You may want to step back….” He looked around to see if anyone was watching before hoisting his foot up to kick the door in.
***
“Clark!” Lois gasped, gingerly touching the exposed skin on his back where his suit had torn. “You’re hurt!”
“I’ll be….fine….just need….sunlight….” He wheezed out as he took a shaky step toward the farmhouse.
“Sunlight?” She asked, uncertainly as she helped him to the porch. He just nodded, unable to continue. He seemed to be struggling to catch his breath. “Clark?” He slumped down against the door, falling to the ground. She lowered herself to where she was eye level with him, “Are you okay?”
“Fi…ne…” He nodded, tightening his arms around her waist. “Very…fi..ne…”
“Clark, do you know where you are?” Lois asked, turning his head to look at her.
“Ho…me..” He said softly. “Fina…Finally, home…”
“Good,” She nodded. It appeared his memory was doing a bit better than it had before. “Do you know who I am?
He cupped her cheek, softly whispering her name barely loud enough for her to hear him, “Lo…is.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him, “My…Lois…”
He tightened his grip on her and she gasped, “Too tight,”
“Sorr..y,” He mumbled, against her shoulder.
“Good. So you remember who I am?” She asked as he loosened his grip on her waist.
“Of…course….” His voice seemed to be getting stronger but he still seemed out of it, “I could….ne..ver….for…get….”
She smiled at that last statement, “Clark, what happened?” She touched his back gingerly, noting that the scrapes that had been there before seemed to have disappeared.
“Hurt….hu..rts….to….brea…breathe….” He rasped out.
“Hurts to breathe?” Lois repeated, uncertainly. “Can you breathe now?”
He nodded, holding her close to him. “Bet…Bett..er…” She could feel the tears she’d been holding back threaten to overflow. Ever since she’d been reunited with him this was the first time she’d held him….really held him. Five years of dreaming of this moment and now that it was here….She glanced at him and noticed his eyes had closed and he seemed to have passed out from exhaustion, but his grip on her was still pretty tight.
“Clark…” She tried to free herself from his grasp so she could call the Kents but found herself unable to move. “Clark, you’ve got to let go of me…”
“No…” He mumbled incoherently. “Don’t…leave,”
‘Don’t panic,’ she reminded herself. ‘He doesn’t know what he’s doing,’
“Green…..glow….hurts….hu…rts…to…brea…breathe…” He murmured softly.
‘He’s delirious.’ She realized as his body slumped against her, loosening his grip on her waist. She looked around, making sure there wasn’t anyone nearby that could possibly report the landing of the newest superhero at the Kent farm. There didn’t appear to be anyone but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen. She needed to get him inside and she needed to call the Kents.
Clark’s head nestled against her shoulder, holding her waist as he slept. God, she’d missed this…She wrapped an arm around his waist and attempted to stand up with him, but found the task to be impossible as he slumped against her. “No…” He moaned in his sleep.
She was going to have to wake him up. There was no other way. She couldn’t sit here in this position on the porch forever. She could already feel a cramp in her legs start to form.
“Clark?” She patted his cheek, trying to get his attention, “Clark, wake up,”
“Huh?” His eyes shot open and he looked around, seeming to recognize her and his surroundings.
“Okay, we need to get you inside the house. Can you help me…?” She was cut off when he stood up and scooped her into his arms, “Okay, good! You’re feeling better…” She muttered to herself as he walked into the house, closing the door behind him.
***
“Oh, God!” Henderson pulled his collar over his nose and mouth, “What is that smell?”
Reagan pointed to a room with a flickering light and motioned for Henderson to follow. “In there!”
Indeed, the smell got worse as they entered the room. “Police!” Henderson called out as they entered the room with their weapons drawn.
“Can…can you see anything?” Reagan asked.
Henderson shook his head, looking up at the flickering light above them. He scanned the room. It looked like equipment had been pried from the walls. He moved his flashlight to examine the puncture marks in the concrete, “What the hell….?” He touched the metal that appeared to have been ripped from the wall.
“Henderson!” Reagan called out.
“What is it?” Henderson asked.
“We’ve got a….a homicide,” Reagan said, pointing his flashlight to the corner of the room.
Henderson moved his flashlight to where Reagan was pointing and saw what appeared to be military uniforms thrown over the faces of …. “One, two, three….”
“I’m counting about ten…” Reagan said, holding his collar over his nose.
“We’re going to need an ME down here….secure the perimeter,” Henderson instructed. Reagan seemed relieved for an excuse to leave and Henderson called after him, “Don’t touch anything!”
“You got it!” Reagan called over his shoulder as he headed out of the room.
Henderson could hear the chirp of Reagan’s radio as he spoke into his radio. “What the hell happened here?”
***
“Mr. President?” General Newcomb stood at the doorway of the oval office, awaiting permission to enter.
The President waved him in, “General Newcomb, come in,”
“I assume you have seen the reports, sir?” Newcomb asked.
“Yes, it appears this alien Trask was testing ….escaped….and a good thing too,”
“Sir?” Newcomb asked, uncertainly.
“I told you I wanted Bureau 39 shut down. I want its very existence annihilated. Not a single drop of ink should be left to tie this administration to that….freakshow of an agency…”
“It has been taken care of Mr. President, I assure you….”
“This….alien…this SUPERMAN as they are calling him….can he identify us?”
“No,” Newcomb shook his head. “Trask was the only one he ever saw.”
“And we know who this alien is?”
“No,” Newcomb shook his head, “He was strange…eccentric like that. I tortured him for hours and never got the information I needed from him….”
“Pity,” the President muttered, “Make sure this all falls on Trask. I don’t need this coming back to haunt me,”
“Anything you say, Mr. President,” Newcomb nodded.
“General?” he called out.
“Yes?” Newcomb asked.
“Would you have believed five years ago that you’d be calling me, George Thompson the President Of The United States?”
“No, but I always knew you had potential, Mr. President,” Newcomb smiled.
“Any idea who Trask was trying to sell that meteorite to?” Thompson asked.
“No, it disappeared from the warehouse,” Newcomb said bitterly. “What is the plan with the alien?”
“We will bide our time then if he makes a move against us we use what we know to bring him down….”
***
TBC...
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