Dead or Alive pt 7
Clark closed the top of the phone and the dim light was extinguished.
He was feeling quite strong now. Physically as well as emotionally. It was amazing how much he’d needed to sever his relationship with Lois. But as for being in here, right now he needed a plan. He’d leave the coffin intact. He’d have to take the cell phone with him just so nobody linked Lois with his escape.
Was that the best route to follow though? As he saw it, he had two choices. Leave inconspicuously or leave dramatically. If he was going to continue this charade of Superman being dead, he should sneak out molecularly.
If he was going to ever be Superman again, then he was going to have to make a dramatic reappearance. He had his honesty to consider. Yeah, right, honesty.
He’d never live without being Superman. He’d shown that to himself already. He couldn’t even ignore cries for help when he was dead! He would have to take up his costume again one day. Then he’d have a lot of explaining to do and it would certainly look like he’d been faking the whole thing.
If he exploded right out of the grave now, the world would know he was back, that somehow he’d been dead or at least looked that way, and he’d not have too much explaining to do. Kryptonite could have been responsible for that. How he’d returned to life would be the untold question the masses would just have to ponder.
They’d better not deify him. No, they wouldn’t do that. He’d be quite plain that he’d not been resurrected, he’d just not been completely dead.
The criminal element needed to know he was back, otherwise the riot in Metropolis right now would only be the tip of the iceberg.
He felt around for his flashlight again. He really didn’t need it, now that his powers had returned. He scooped all the things that had been buried with him into a pile to have a good look at them.
There were a lot of empty chocolate wrappers, the cell phone and a few other things. A little box was among the treasures. He x-rayed it before opening it. It was lead lined. No, thank you. That little treasure was probably kryptonite. It was a very good thing it was lead lined. Why had someone put that in? Well, that was easy, it was probably from Luthor or Church’s crowd.
He tucked the cell phone into the neck of his Superman suit. The costume was a good likeness to the ones his mother had made. Perhaps it would be good to get some flying time out of it. Metropolis could certainly use some rescuing right about now.
He pushed the empty wrappers out of the way and had a look at the few remaining items. A blue velvet jewelry box was among what was left. He brought it up to his face and x-rayed it. It contained a ring. He opened it and found a note with it.
“Clark Kent, if you’re not really dead and if you ever get out alive, will you marry me?” There was no signature. Boy that was strange. Who knew he was Clark Kent besides his parents and Perry? He’d have to look into this a bit more. He zeroed in on the fingerprints on the velvet box but they were too obscure. He carefully folded the paper back up and put it in the box. He’d look for fingerprints later. He tucked the box into his suit. It was a good thing he’d found that, a note like that in the wrong hands was a recipe for disaster. Perhaps they were the wrong hands already.
He thought back. The woman who’d given him the ring had dropped that in his bed when she’d paid her last respects. He tried to recall. There’d been thousands of women. Who had placed something beside him? Who had kissed him nicely? That narrowed it down to about a thousand. He shook his head. Who had kissed him and put something in beside him? That should narrow it down to just a very few.
He looked back at the little heap again. There was a pocket knife. That was for tunneling out, he supposed. He smiled and tucked it into his suit. There was a small silver cross, a string of prayer beads and a small statue of Buddha.
He rolled over onto his stomach and did some push-ups. A thousand should do.
It was time to go. He would explode his way out. If he rocketed skyward, the kryptonite on the surface wouldn’t have time to affect him. The hit man in the tree would only see an explosion of dirt and wooden splinters. By then he’d be in orbit.
