[Chapter 6: Torn]Lois pushed 'send', submitting her article covering a few more Intergang cases coming to a close.
The past two months had been wonderful and Lois could hardly wait to see how much closer she and Clark would get in the coming weeks.
Last weekend on a whim, he flew her to the Amalfi coast in Italy. There was so much to see and do. Standing on stone terraces, they caught sunsets as the fading light of day rippled over the dark blue waters. They marveled at beaches set among the rocks and walks where the vibrant flowers provide backdrops for sharing unforgettable moments together.
The evening meal was especially impressive. They went to the Re Maurì in Vietri sul Mare for a candle-lit dinner. The restaurant’s exposed kitchen was decorated with various colorful ceramic pots. The menu was chock full of seasonal ingredients, with meat and seafood dishes that reflected the flavors and traditions of the Amalfi Coast. Clark, as a wine enthusiast, was particularly interested in the cellar which contained a selection of over 950 wines from Italy and overseas. They talked about each other’s lives and laughed at various happy memories from early days in their chosen professions. In more ways than one, it was a fabulous meal. While lingering over freshly roasted coffee and a sinfully decadent chocolate dessert, Clark hinted about a shared future.
Those memories made her lips curl into a sweet, yet mischievous, smile. Never in her life had she been so comfortable and cherished. Above all, Clark was trustworthy in the truest sense of the word and, considering what other men had done to her heart, that was high praise.
They were continuing the ‘steady progression’ route, and while there were moments where both of them struggled with that arrangement, they were both glad they were not jumping ahead — although she seriously doubted they would wait a year before getting married, let alone engaged.
The relationship they were forging was precious. She knew he was hers and she was his. So she was certain time spent getting to know each other better would only sweeten the moment when they decided to finally make it official. Still wasn't easy though.
At the sound of Clark’s alter ego’s name being mentioned, she turned her attention to one of the monitors.
‘Superman continues to help with humanitarian aid after the torrential floods in Indonesia. For the past four days, he has been seen helping in the search for the missing, clearing debris, and delivering food and medical supplies to the region,' the news anchor said.
Lois sighed softly as she glanced at the television in the bullpen.
The news showed a clip of Superman pushing aside mounds of debris that had been created by the horrendous mudslides before changing to another clip of sheets covering a row of bodies with rescuers helping the injured nearby.
'Two hundred and thirty fatalities have been reported thus far, but thousands are still missing. Unfortunately, due to the mudslides and water that has yet to recede, most roads are blocked and communications to the hardest hit areas have yet to be reestablished,' the man said as scenes continued to flash across the screen. 'Late last night, the UN requested Superman to take a break, as it was brought to their attention that he had been working non-stop for over seventy-two hours. Superman acknowledged the request and agreed a few hours of sleep would be beneficial to him. He left late last night and returned early this morning to continue providing assistance to the region. The President of Indonesia, Jusuf Sukarto, has already expressed his gratitude to Superman and all the aid workers and plans on visiting the hospital in the hardest hit district later today.'
Since the flooding started in Indonesia, she hadn't gotten a chance to really talk to Clark, but he had briefly stopped by her place after taking a nap. Although he seemed well rested to her, he didn’t seem to be his usual self. Granted, she couldn’t imagine how she would be feeling in his place. Spending hours upon hours surrounded by destruction while retrieving those beyond saving was hard for her to even contemplate.
How did he cope with it all?
There had been a few instances where she had wondered how he dealt with rescues that didn't end well, but those had been fleeting and hadn't been coupled with the cold reality of a line of covered bodies being displayed on international news.
Did the years he had spent overseeing search and rescue missions provide him with the skills to handle and accept the inevitable loss of human life in natural as well as unnatural disasters? It was clear his time as a military officer had given him knowledge of how best to conduct himself amongst emergency personnel and how to better help in rescues, but how far did that experience go?
Did he talk with his parents? To General Newcomb? To people at the Foundation? It was clear he had someone looking out for him because someone contacted the UN and pointed out how long he had been working, non-stop. That was a little reassuring at least. But how much help did he truly have? How much did he need?
Well, whenever this tragedy no longer needed his attention, she would definitely be asking him a few questions.
“Everyone, I have an announcement to make!” Perry declared, getting the entire bullpen’s attention. “Finalists in this year’s Pulitzer Prize for Journalism have been selected and one of our own has been requested to attend the award ceremony." He waved his arm and motioned for Lois to stand up. "For the series of articles now collectively known as 'The Fall of Luthor'. Good job, Lois," he praised.
Everyone around broke into cheers and applause. She beamed.
She couldn't wait to tell Clark.
O o O o O
Kal looked across the muddied landscape and was relieved his part was done. The rest of the clean up and recovery operation would be conducted by the local government, aided by Indonesia's federal government and the UN.
As for him, he was mentally and emotionally spent, and while the brief nap and sunsoak he had had the previous day had helped, he was looking forward to calling it a night and sleeping the weekend away.
He took a deep breath as he flew high up into the atmosphere. He wanted to get as much sun as possible before heading to Metropolis, which meant he would be going the long way around the world, chasing the sun.
This disaster had been one of the rougher ones he had helped with. In all his years of conducting search and rescue, few had involved as many fatalities. But this one was worse because he had been forced to make a choice.
The amount of rain had made the mountainsides unstable. Whole swathes of land were under threat of mudslides and when he heard the rumbling he knew he had no time.
Two mountainsides gave way at once, and he only had time to make it to one. He chose the one overlooking a village mostly spared by the worst of the floodwaters. A few buildings were already being converted into triage centers and the school there was taking in those who had lost their homes.
He blew on the layer of drenched earth and rock, freezing it instantly before shoving it aside as one massive chunk of frosty creation — trees, roots, mud and stone. Unfortunately, by the time he was able to ensure it could do no harm, the other landslide had completely wiped away a road. And three hundred human beings who were guiding their livestock to higher ground.
He knew it wasn't his fault and that he had done the best he could. Heck, he knew that he had even made the best decision. The village had over a thousand people taking refuge there at the time of the collapse, but that knowledge didn't stop the agony he felt when removing the dead from muddy graves.
Even with all of his powers, he couldn't save everyone.
He flew over Russia and allowed himself to dip back under cloud altitude as he opened his ears to radio chatter.
It was soothing to hear normal, everyday life communications, whether or not it was in English. It provided a nice grounding, proof that the world was still spinning even when he felt it wasn't.
Making his way across Europe, he continued to leisurely fly far above the cities and fields, farms and roads. He was as close to dozing while flying as he could be when his ears suddenly picked up a jarring declaration.
'¡Mantengan a todos atrás! ¡Podría disparar la bomba!'
('Keep everyone back! He might trigger the bomb!')
He immediately changed course, opening up his senses and zeroing in on the location of the alarming call.
Puerto del Esperanza, Spain. A small town in northern Spain within the province of Navarre.
The sounds of a violent commotion made it to him as he approached the town. A split second later, the sounds of several people desperately clamoring out of a building followed, instilling a new sense of urgency within him.
Something important had just happened.
His super senses went into overdrive as his speed allowed him to enter the town and cut across roads and around buildings in just a few blinks, but once again, all his power amounted to nothing when he heard the blast.
Everything around him seemed to be moving in slow motion, but he still felt he wasn't moving fast enough.
He was above a street entering a courtyard, and a building ahead and to the left was in the midst of enduring an explosion from within. The immediate area was clear of people and driven vehicles, except for a group of seven individuals who had just recently made it out of the doomed structure.
Several paces apart from one another, four men, two women and one teenager were running full tilt toward police who were on the other side of the plaza, which was off to the side behind him.
He knew it was too late to smother the bomb and he couldn't blow the blast away. The people he was trying to save were partially between him and the explosion, and even if they weren't, he didn't know how stable the building was itself. The last thing he wanted to do was make a bad situation worse. So there was only one thing he could attempt: reach the fleeing people and get them out of harm's way directly.
The shattered glass and shards of wood and metal from the building continued through the air as the blastwave picked up chairs and overturned the patio tables nearby. The concussive force alone was potentially fatal, but coupled with the coming debris . . . he needed to get to them!
He made it to the woman leading the group as he was faced with the gut-wrenching truth that he would not be able to save the people right in front of him. Even though they were running in his general direction, he wouldn't be able to shield them before the blast reached them and he would likely witness their last moments alive.
He was so close, still moving toward them while holding the woman to his side, but he wouldn’t make it to them in time. He had literally been a second too slow.
He reached out, wishing what was coming were not so, even as he saw the ripple of the shockwave approaching — its edge less than an inch from the last two in the group.
He felt anguish clench his soul as time all but froze.
The men were in mid-stride, one helping a woman keep her footing while another was pulling the teenaged boy on, expressions of horror on their faces.
And then something tore at his core.
His vision flashed white as agony ripped through his chest unrelentingly and with no warning. He stopped moving forward, his other arm still around the woman he had managed to reach as a pull at what he could only assume was his center abruptly yanked like a cable attached to one of his father's tractors.
His whole being snapped painfully taut as he felt the blastwave pass over them all and saw the debris pelt those he had been desperately trying to save.
The world returned to its normal speed before the blast was fully spent. But he was barely aware of the world because there was something completely and terribly
wrong. Wrong with
him.
O o O o O
[Puerto del Esperanza, Spain - 6:14pm (1:14 pm in Metropolis)]
Barging in with a big box and shouting out nonsense, a clearly disturbed man threatened to blow them all up if anyone moved. Carlohita wasn't sure why the crazed man had targeted her business, but at this point she didn't care, and neither did her best friend, Jose. After failing to talk the man down and after the negotiator's efforts failed, Jose threw caution to the wind and jumped him, knocking what had to be the trigger out of his hand! Jose urged everyone to run as a fight ensued.
She wasn't sure what was happening behind her, but she led her family and customers out and urged them to get behind the square's water fountain for cover.
She wasn't sure if they'd make it, but they had to try. It was twenty meters away and she could see police gathered just on the other side. Barricades had been haphazardly placed in a rushed attempt to keep people away, but it seemed like word had spread well enough and done most of the work as she realized they were the only people near the building.
Maybe they would make it out of this. Maybe Jose was tying that lunatic up right now and all would be well. Huffing and puffing, as she ignored the dull ache in her knee, she prayed they would be laughing about this nightmare by next weekend. That's how things like this went if it ended well, right?
But then all her thoughts of hope vanished as she heard the bomb go off.
She felt heat behind her, but oddly it was the view in front of her that had somehow taken her attention.
A red and blue blur was suddenly upon her just before vertigo encompassed her whole frame. She was whipped around, feeling what could only be an arm around her as a sensation she would never fully be able to describe surged across her skin as all movement stopped so suddenly it was almost painful.
But that was the least jarring part.
The blastwave rushed over them, and she could only stare in bewilderment at what her eyes were witnessing.
Glass and shards of wood, mixed with bits of metal, were flying through the air. She couldn't make out the pieces individually during their flight but the moment they struck the people in front of her. . . .
The shards of glass shattered against their skin, falling away from undamaged faces, shoulders and arms. Wood pelted off their backs as if thrown against metal and the metal bounced off as if it was rubber.
What?
Her eyes fell on Jose who was the furthest from her and had been closest to the blast. He stumbled forward a few steps before stopping, looking just as astonished as she felt.
He turned around to look at the ruined shop, exposing his bare back to her and the others. The blast had torn and burned away most of his clothes but his skin was unmarked, just as they all were, despite it being impossible!
She blinked, too stunned to even gasp, but before she could attempt to comprehend what had just happened, she was pulled down to her knees by a weight draped around her back.
She looked down, suddenly remembering that someone had grabbed her before the wave had hit them, but like most of her day, nothing could have prepared her for what, or rather who, she found.
"Superman!?" she shouted. "¡Madre de Dios!"
This god among men had collapsed onto his side and was laying right beside her! His arm that had been around her was now off, but his hand was grasping the bottom hem of her blouse. She didn't think this was a conscious choice, as he seemed to be gasping for breath while in unquestionable pain, but he did let go as soon as she touched his shoulder.
She was glad she was already on her knees as her hands ran over Superman's body, instinctively trying to find where he was hurt. Heavens above, what was she doing?! But she had to do something! The man, alien, Krypto-whatever, had just saved their lives —
somehow! She had to try to help him!
"<Superman, what’s wrong? What do we do?>” she asked, putting her hand back on his blue covered shoulder.
He briefly opened his eyes but quickly closed them tightly again.
“<My aura —>” he bit out, surprising her with his fluency. He sounded like a native speaker! “<— I think I . . . — please, get Klein.>”
He trembled and appeared to be trying not to move for some reason. What was wrong with him?! This was definitely not normal! She had never seen him less than super on television, even after Nightfall!
"<Carlohita!>" Jose was suddenly right across from her and on Superman's other side as she looked up. "<What happened?! What's wrong with him?!>" he asked.
"<I don't know!>" she cried.
"<Is he why—why we didn't—are you—?>" Jose rambled, shaking from adrenaline.
“<He said ‘my aura’ and asked us to get ‘Klein’. Do you know who that is?>” she asked as Superman continued to remain motionless between them, though his breathing was strained
"<Stay back, stay back!>"
There was a commotion somewhere on the other side of the water fountain, but her attention remained on the now wheezing Kryptonian. He was actually wheezing!
“<I think that’s his doctor at his Foundation,>” Jose said before standing up. “<Hey! Ricardo! Get your truck over here!>" He looked back down at her. "<We'll take him to the hospital,>" he declared as a police officer ran up to them.
Carlohita looked back down at Superman, trusting Jose to handle whatever he needed to do to make it happen. She took Superman's hand encouragingly and placed her other hand on his forehead.
It was a brisk Fall evening and she idly wondered if Superman could get cold while noting the warmth of his hand and forehead.
"<Hold on, Superman. We're going to take you to the hospital and we'll call your doctor from there,>" she promised.
He gently squeezed her hand in thanks as the remaining sunlight became blocked by the buildings to their right and the orange and pink glow of the sunset peaked over the rooftops.
"<Place the blanket there,>" a voice said. "<We'll lift him with that.>"
Superman moaned as people she didn't know crowded near. The square was now swarming with activity and she could hear Jose and other men shouting out orders.
"<Clear the way! Clear it! The truck is backing up!>"
"<Police will escort! We're not waiting for an ambulance!>"
"<Carlohita, can he turn onto the blanket? We want to lift him onto the bed of the truck,>" Jose said.
Fortunately, Superman must have heard because he slowly eased onto his back and onto the awaiting blanket. Someone near his feet boldly helped move his legs before a dozen hands appeared, some hesitantly, grasping the edges of the makeshift stretcher as Jose helped Carlohita to her feet.
Superman squinted up at them and Carlohita wondered what he must be thinking, laying there as total strangers gathered around him. But then, she supposed at the moment he was beyond such thoughts. His right hand was pressed against the center of his 'S' covered chest, while the other was twisting up the edge of his cape, as if trying to distract himself so he wouldn't cry out in pain.
"<On three. One-two-three!>"
The group successfully got him into the back of the truck with two police officers joining him. She couldn't see Ricardo but was certain he was in the driver's seat as her family rushed over to her and Jose, thankful to see that she was okay while bewildered and awed by Superman's presence.
"<Alright, go, go, go!>" an officer shouted after Jose had closed the tailgate.
She prayed Superman would be okay, suddenly wondering if she could have done more.
O o O o O
[Puerto del Esperanza, Spain - 6:21pm (1:21 pm in Metropolis)]
"<Alright, go, go, go!>"
He felt hands keep him stable as the truck left the plaza and picked up speed. He could faintly hear the sound of a police siren up ahead, but he was far too distracted to spare it any thought.
He just tried not to move and focused on breathing. This couldn't last much longer, could it?
The hurt was so deep and penetrating he wasn't even sure what part of him was what anymore. It felt similar to when he had been hurt by the sound weapon, but this was multiplied by a thousand at least. He felt as if he was on an ocean, barely keeping his head above water as the waves tossed him about, but the water was more than something that battered him, it was fire and acid.
Something shifted as a tide of nausea swept over him. He groaned, closing his eyes until it passed. Thankfully, it took a thread of agony away with it.
"<Superman, what do you need? Do you know what's wrong?>" one of them asked, leaning in close.
Kal risked turning his head, finding a young police officer right over him, a starry night sky beyond him.
"<My doctor,>" he said, the pain easing slightly as they made it to an outstretch of road that was quieter. "<Dr. Klein. I think . . . I think I hurt my aura. I think I . . . felt it . . . tear.>"
How could he explain what had happened when he didn't know it himself? He just wanted the pain to stop.
"<Your aura?>" the young man asked, bewildered but interested as much as he was concerned.
"<It is normally close . . . close to my skin. Anything in it is . . .>" His eyes widened.
That couldn't be possible, could it?
But how else could those people have avoided harm?
He had shielded those people.
Somehow, he had extended his aura out and covered them.
. . . And injured himself in the process.
"<Superman?>"
"<I covered them. Somehow,>" he said as they turned onto another road, this one noisier.
He closed his eyes, feeling a churning of sensation that threatened overstimulation, but it was both nowhere and everywhere, neither painful nor pleasant, just raw and intense. He didn't know what it was.
"<Covered them?>" the officer inquired.
"<The people, from the blast,>" he explained, trying to push aside everything and focus on the man before him.
"<And doing so hurt your aura?>" he asked.
Kal gave a hum in agreement, though it morphed into a moan in the end.
"<Can we do anything?>" the officer asked.
Kal couldn't answer as a wave of shearing pain wrenched through him with little warning, tugging hard at his right for a long moment until easing to the throb it had been before. He sagged, panting. He felt as if he had flown around the world, nonstop, for an entire day.
“<Superman! What happened?!>”
“<How far are we from the hospital?! He needs help now!>”
“<We’re almost there, just up the road!>”
“<They know we’re coming, right?>”
“<The unit leading called ahead.>”
“<Superman, move your hand if you can hear us,>” the officer beside him said.
He did so but didn’t want to. Moving anything at all just took too much focus.
“<We’re here! We’re here! Superman, just hold on!>” a man near his feet said as they came to a hurried stop.
The men clamored around him as near and far shouting with hurried movement whirled around him. He felt them lift and move him, setting him onto a soft surface that then began to move.
He felt like a sinking boat in the middle of a flaming cyclone.
There had to be a way to stop this!
He had had to focus on his body to master all of his abilities, maybe doing so again here would help? Just laying in agony was driving him mad, and the pain was only getting worse.
He was dimly aware of moving down a hall and he forced himself to open his eyes.
“<The Admin is calling his Foundation,>” someone said. “<We’ve done our best to move the other patients, so the second bay is clear for him.”
“<Very good. Get Dr. Romarez,>” a woman right beside him said. She was clearly a doctor and she was helping to guide the gurney he was on. "<Superman, I’m Dr. Alcon. I understand you believe you injured your aura? Has anything like this ever happened before?>”
“<Yes, last year or so. From a, uh, sound weapon, but it wasn't this bad,>” he said, straining to keep his attention on her.
She was middle-aged and fairly 'quaint', but the detail that most people took note of was an odd blemish by her neck that was partially obscured by the collar of her medical uniform.
Kal was too distracted to notice. He was laying flat on his back and they turned into an area off the hall with a lot of equipment around. Someone pulled at the curtains and another person began removing his boots.
"<We need to remove your uniform, okay?>" a nurse gently informed him.
"<Here,>" he said, moving but struggling to turn fully. "<Zipper. Scissors won't work,>" he stated.
He was resigned to the reality of what was happening, but wanted to keep as much control as possible, however minimal.
He couldn't afford to waste energy resisting or allowing his fears to surface.
Another nurse helped the first to begin removing his suit, and, as he tried his best to assist, that odd churning sensation rose up again.
And then he felt as if he was capsizing in slow motion.
"<Do you know what caused it this time?>" Dr. Alcon asked, staying on track as she indicated something to the nurse beside her. The top of his uniform was now off and someone was placing something on his finger.
"<Me, I think,>" he gasped, before Dr. Alcon smoothly placed an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth as someone else placed stickers on his bare chest. "<Sum'pin's happen'in.>"
"<Just breathe as normally as you can,>" she directed, glancing at the monitor that was now showing his heart rate and oxygen level.
He suddenly knew what was coming. He felt thin, stretched like a band about to break. He gripped the metal railings on either side of himself as an excruciating force, even more unrelenting than the one he had experienced in the truck, overtook all of his awareness.
He felt torn asunder.
O o O o O
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