There haven't been too many comments about this...I'm wondering if it's badly written or if everyone just hates Clark too much to bother reading anymore??
Nancy
here's pt 7 again with pt 8 afterwards
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.
Dead or Alive
Pt 8
He x-rayed the earth above him. A child was kneeling on his grave, a mother holding her hand. She was laying flowers. He x-rayed a bit further away. There were more people. Oh my goodness, the throng had showed up to bring flowers to his grave. Well, exploding out wasn’t going to be an option. He looked at the hit man in the tree, his weapon trained on the top of the grave.
Clark pulled out the cell phone again and called the police. They should make quick work of him. Now, did he need the area cleared above his grave to do this properly, or should he tunnel out of the area and then explode skyward?
He x-rayed the surrounding area, listening closely. He could have it cleared, but that would still be dangerous. Tunneling was probably the best thing to do. He x-rayed the earth beside him. Cement boxes dotted the ground. He’d have to go under them. However, he didn’t want to create a tunnel that would collapse the graves. Going up was the most appealing thing to do.
Here goes nothing. He dialed the police again.
“Superman was buried alive. He’s about to explode out of the grave. Could you please see to it that the area is secured?”
“Excuse me, is this some sort of a hoax? Who’s calling?”
Nope, that wasn’t going to work. “This isn’t a hoax. May I speak to Inspector Henderson?”
“Henderson here.”
“Inspector. This is Superman. For some reason, I’ve been buried alive. I was without my powers. Now that I’ve regained them, I want to come out, but there are throngs of people above the grave. Could you please have them removed? Oh, and by the way there is a car on the road with two hit men in it as well as one lying in a tree pointing a rifle of kryptonite bullets at the grave.”
“Superman? Is that you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You have a phone in the coffin?”
“Yes sir. When I came to, I realized that there are a lot of things people tucked underneath me.”
“Well, is this ever good news! Metropolis could sure use some help right about now.”
“Yes sir. If you could just clear the area, please. Oh, and the soil on the grave is also littered with kryptonite chunks. Do you think you could gather them up and put them in a lead box for me? I can throw them into the sun later.”
“Superman, I’m on it. Am I ever glad to hear your voice again. Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Yes. I’ve got my powers back now. I’ve just got to conserve air. I’ll know when the area’s secure. If you could empty the entire cemetery it would probably be best.”
“Certainly. Glad to have you back. I’ll get over there with my men right away.”
“Thanks, Bill. I knew I could count on you.”
“Anytime, Superman.”
The sirens, which had been distant all morning, were now coming closer. Clark lay and watched as police arrived and arrested the men in the car and the man in the tree before using a loud speaker to clear the area. They announced that Superman had been buried alive and would be exploding out any minute.
The throngs of people hurried out of the cemetery. Clark realized as he thought about it that the equipment movers could just exhume the grave and he could step out of the coffin. That would be the most practical thing to do. However, he had to get out fast, in case the kryptonite in the area affected him.
Also, since so many people had been party to his funeral, it was only fitting that the world should see his reappearance just as dramatically.
The media must have gotten the scoop, because the road outside the cemetery wall was soon lined with photographers. Of course, they listened to the police radio calls. He knew that. A helicopter even flew nearby, hovering just off his line of upward fire.
Clark closed his eyes and said a little prayer, apologizing for what he’d done in faking his own death and giving thanks for being given a second chance at life in spite of being buried with kryptonite.
When all was in place outside, his parents beyond the fence with the rest of the onlookers, Clark took one final sweep of the area.
The ground above the grave no longer held kryptonite. A police officer had removed a bag of the chunks to the police car, which had sped away from the area.
He listened. The hum of excited people on the peripheries of the cemetery was clear. No other sounds came from above his grave, nor nearby. Only a lone robin sang in the tree the hit man had used.
It was now or never. Clark sat up, pulled his feet up beneath himself, and launched himself into the top of the coffin. It melted out of his way like tissue paper. He barely felt the cool damp earth as he spun upward, digging a quick efficient channel to the light. He shot high in the air. The feel of the sun on his body was warm. He flew back down a bit, hovered above the cemetery to allow the photographers a chance to reintroduce him to the world, then with one fist raised heavenward and one leg bent, he shot up into the atmosphere. A good fly in the sun was what was needed. He took a deep breath of the clean fresh air, then flew closer and closer until the rays of the sun were all he could feel. He turned his path to orbit the sun. It felt good. He held his breath, flying faster and faster as the sun replenished his resources. Having a yellow sun was a wonderful thing.
He could do so much because of this sun. He was destined to do a lot more. With a heart full of gratitude for getting out of the coffin alive, he returned to breathe deeply from the atmosphere.
Circling the earth a few times felt good, too. But the whole world needed to know he was back. They’d seen him leave, they’d cried for him and bid him farewell, but the evil element of the earth had grown tremendously in the short time he’d been dead. Rioting and looting was evident all around the planet. He soared lower, making sure he was seen by airplanes, picked up on radar, photographed by news crews on the streets. He was back alright. Planet earth was in for a treat.
