[Chapter 13: Protect]Hundreds of buildings had suffered severe damage and dozens were in immediate danger of collapse. Thousands of people were trapped within unstable structures, and Kal moved them as swiftly but as carefully as he could to safety.
Clark arrived less than a minute after he had called him, and they quickly began combing through the affected area. Fortunately, the worst of the earthquake was outside city limits; however, the edge of the city had still been heavily impacted.
For hours, they worked, scanning broken buildings with their x-ray vision before carefully retrieving those within as quickly as they could. Normally, such rescues required agonizing restraint on the part of Superman, but they quickly realized two Kryptonians were better than one.
Working together, they formed a new strategy. While one stabilized the structure and prevented its further collapse, the other focused on rescuing the people trapped.
And so, from building to building, Kal and Clark moved in tandem, communicating with rescue teams as they cleared out block after block of impacted areas far faster than either one of them ever had before on their own.
"I have the beam," Kal assured, giving Clark a nod to get the couple pinned in the basement below.
"Could use a stretcher over here!" Clark called.
The rescue team quickly obliged before Clark disappeared. A moment later, he reappeared with a man with two wrapped legs and carefully placed him on the provided gurney.
"His legs are broken and he has a minor concussion. No internal bleeding," Clark summarized before disappearing again and returning with a shaken but grateful woman a blink later.
Kal lowered the beam once everyone was clear of the building-turned-debris pile. The shattered, empty structure shifted abruptly a second later, but it didn't matter, as Kal and Clark had already begun scanning the next structure.
They endured a few aftershocks as the hours passed and night approached, but all were thankfully minor, and soon their super efforts were on clearing the roads and helping with transporting the most critical for treatment. There was no one else to find, both survivors and the deceased, so getting people out of the epicenter and supplies to people in need became the priority.
/The Red Cross has designated the football stadium as an emergency shelter and their base of operations,/ Kal thought to him from across the city.
Clark slowed in his debris clearing as he concentrated to reply. /I've cleared the main road, but most of the other roads are still blocked. Do you want me to shift my focus on helping with the stadium?/
/If the teams want you to, go ahead and do that; otherwise, getting travel logistics up should take precedence,/ Kal stated.
/Alright, I’ll ask. One moment,/ Clark said.
Kal waited as Clark spoke to the responders near him.
/They would like me to continue clearing the roads in preparation for tomorrow’s efforts,/ Clark answered, before asking something that had been troubling him. /So the stadium is outside the range of the worst of any potential aftershocks?/
/I don’t know. They seem to think so, but from the aftershocks I’ve felt today, I don’t think we should be sending anyone north, but east. Unfortunately, there are no shelters in place in that direction, and, with the coming storm, setting up anything would be challenging, not to mention risky due to the potential for flooding. The lower elevation. . . ./ Kal sighed.
“K-Kal-El?”
Kal looked up to find a first responder looking at him in concern.
“Sorry. I was communicating with Superman,” Kal answered before looking back at the triage area.
“Oh. Is everything okay?” the responder asked, both intrigued and worried.
Through the treaty discussions, as well as due to the treaty itself, the world had been informed of Superman's and Kal’s capabilities, though some of it remained fairly obscure to the public.
“Yes, I was just letting him know about the stadium,” Kal explained.
"Ah," he said understandingly. "The stadium should provide what's needed."
Kal nodded, trying to push aside his reservations, simply because, what other options did they have? There were thousands of people in immediate need of shelter, food, and water, not to mention hundreds that required medical care. Another concern was the coming rain storm. The stadium was the only place close enough that was able to accommodate people displaced and capable of enabling mass disaster relief efforts. Sure, he and Clark could begin moving perhaps a hundred or so people at a time by flying buses in and out now, but orchestrating that in the given circumstances was easier said than done. Kal knew that better than most, which was why he focused on the task at hand.
Night fell and hours passed.
Kal continued to transport the critically injured to ambulances and helicopters arriving outside the epicenter that would take them to hospitals beyond the earthquake zone. He then picked up a pallet of bottled water delivered there to take back to the stadium.
Hoisting the pallet up, he shot to the stadium.
The clouds above opened half way there.
Landing outside with the pallet held above his head with one hand as the rain poured down, he was quickly ushered in by awed volunteers. The people he passed stared at him in amazement as they did their best to get out of his way, but the place was packed.
Across the football field, there were lines of people waiting for blankets and food. Groups huddled in tight circles and thousands of others were positioned in rows on mats, sleeping bags, and anything else that could serve as a bed. A number of the stadium lights were on, enabling teams to continue working through the night and now very early morning, but much of the place lay in shadows due to the power outage. There were not enough generators. Fortunately, the darkness was not quite a bad thing because it allowed the exhausted people to at least attempt to sleep, even as the rain pattered loudly above on the stadium roof.
Walking further in, Kal found an empty place at the end of the food line and carefully placed the pallet down before breaking through the plastic wrap so people could get to the water bottles.
“Thank you, Su–I mean, Kal,” Fredy Hirsch said, noticing Kal’s eyepatch a bit late. “I got a call that the tents will be arriving after the storm passes. Hopefully we’ll be able to begin moving people to a safer place soon. Perhaps in a few hours. I understand you expressed concerns earlier?”
Fredy Hirsch was the leader of the team from the Red Cross and was communicating with the other disaster relief organizations to better get food and other supplies into the hands of those who needed them. Already, Mr. Hirsch had impressed Kal with his efficiency and calm demeanor, especially in how he spoke with him and Clark. More often than not, people were tongue-tied for at least the first few minutes of meeting them. Not Hirsch. He got straight to business and spoke to Kal as if he was a peer. It reminded Kal of his time in the military, so he fell into the familiar stride alongside Clark.
“Yes. I didn’t like how the aftershocks felt. I can’t really explain it, but I would feel much better if we got everyone east of the highway,” Kal explained.
Hirsch nodded, taking in his concerns. “I’ll direct the teams to set up camps on the other side of the highway. The risk of flooding will have passed by then.”
“Thanks. Hopefully it’s nothing, but that location will also allow the National Guard to better help as well,” Kal said.
“I agree,” Hirsch said.
“Are there any other critical patients?” Kal asked. “The rain has started, but that shouldn’t be an issue for the ambulances.”
“No, Superman took the last one as far as I know,” he said.
Kal nodded, honestly relieved. "Alright. As soon as the storm passes, I'll help with–"
Kal froze, and Hirsch looked at him in concern.
Kal turned his gaze up, taking in the massive expanse of the stadium roof and the seating suspended throughout – and all the people below.
Like hundreds of times before, he made a split second decision, and committed.
/Clark! Aftershock! Stadium, now!/ he thought out as he levitated a few feet off the fake grass.
"Everyone, hold on! Aftershock coming!" he bellowed, calling out for the entire stadium to hear.
At his voice, people startled and those sleeping woke up. The volunteers quickly began instructing people to take cover, though there wasn't much to be done, especially in the crowded grass field of organized chaos.
People braced as the earth suddenly shuddered, and it didn't stop.
The groaning of metal echoed ominously all throughout the stadium for one long second, and something told Kal . . . the stadium would not withstand what was coming.
He and Clark were only two men. There was no way they'd be able to hold the stadium together and prevent it from falling apart. Even if they both tried to hold up the roof, chances are it would break into pieces and plummet down anyway. And there was no time to evacuate everyone.
The rumbling grew.
The screaming of thousands of people rose up as loud bangs and pops of bolts snapping and concrete cracking droned out in a deafening swirl of horror.
/Kal?!/ Clark cried as he appeared, hovering in the air beside him.
The rumbling turned into violent shaking.
And then a portion of the roof began to fall.
Clark shot up to catch it, and while he did, it was as Kal feared. It wasn't intact, and it fractured further when Clark tried to stop it. Gravity took hold.
A second felt like ten, and in that span, Kal did the only thing he could think to do.
He landed beside Hirsch, grabbed hold of the two nearest shoulders, and expanded his aura as far as it would go.
O o O o O
Fredy Hirsch stared as Superman appeared next to Kal, looking as alarmed as he felt.
And then the ground violently rocked.
From the uneven stadium lights, he saw Superman disappear, but Hirsch didn't hold much hope. He knew what was coming. He had worked sites like this enough to know there was nothing anyone could do but hold on and pray.
Dimly, he was aware of Kal dropping down as fearful cries became a dull roar among the trembling walls of concrete and steel. Soon after, he felt the Kryptonian's hand clamp down upon his shoulder, and then he felt a thick flood of
strength pour across and against his skin as the air felt as if it took on mass.
An invisible rush of power surged up and out from Kal's form, and a collective gasp stuttered the screams throughout the entire stadium a blink later, even as the shaking worsened and rain from the still raging storm clouds continued to fall.
As the foreign, and rather
alien, energy condensed on his skin, Hirsch managed to identify the fact he was also feeling
emotion. Emotion not his own.
The emotion of Superman's counterpart.
An unrivaled determination was at the forefront, the sort that only those used to performing the impossible could exude because imbued within was also confidence thread together with hope.
Hirsch latched onto that hope when he looked up and saw . . . the roof above collapsing, fracturing into pieces.
The noise was worse than anything he had ever heard before, beyond anything he could have ever imagined. He raised up his arms as debris fell from above and the lights dropped from sight. Something struck his right arm and then his chest. He felt Linda, a volunteer, scream by his ear as they and those around them fell hard, beneath a chunk of steel. Idly, he wondered where Kal was, but then realized . . . the Kryptonian's hand was still on his shoulder, and he could still feel the mysterious power rippling from his form and through the air. He barely felt the rain.
In the darkness, confusion and emotion swam around Hirsch as more movement followed, and not all of it from the quake.
"Kal?!" a familiar voice called in concern.
"Superman?" Hirsch gasped. "Wha–?"
Hirsch felt Kal’s hand tighten on his shoulder as panic not his own rippled through him.
"Hold on, Kal," Superman said through the persistent tremors. "Let me help you."
Something shifted, and then he heard who he could only assume was Kal gasp out in alarm and shock that then gave way to relief.
Gratitude seeped through the strange essence in the air, before it pulsed with another layer of strength.
"Superman?" Hirsch questioned, despite feeling foolish.
Could anyone hear him above the screaming chaos shaking around them?
Suddenly, something massive crashed upon the chunk of roof already partially on them, causing Linda to cry out in fear, but what startled Hirsch the most was Kal's pained grunt.
He really wished he could see. Somehow, he, Linda, Kal-El, Superman, and at least a dozen others were under a huge sheet of steel. He had no idea how those beyond were fairing, but the fact things had fallen. . . .
They had just been struck with metal and whatever else that made up the stadium roof, and yet . . . he was still conscious. How was he not dead? How was he not hurt? He had
felt something hit and the metal across his chest was unquestionably resting upon him. He should have been killed the moment it struck him. He should be being crushed now. He should be dead. Yet he was still breathing. Breathing as if a metal slab bigger than a car wasn’t resting across his chest. What was happening?
Finally, the shaking stopped and the resulting silence was eerie.
And then the calls for help started.
"Superman?" he called out, barely keeping his tone less than frantic.
"Yes?" Superman answered, which honestly surprised him.
Everyone within earshot went silent and those along the edge urged those beyond them to be quiet.
“Shh, it’s Superman!”
“He’s in here with us!”
“Please be quiet so we can hear!”
"What's happening, Superman?” Hirsch asked, talking as loudly as he could. “Can you get us out?!”
“We can’t move,” Superman answered, though he sounded winded. “Kal and I. We . . . his aura. . . .”
“That’s what we’re feeling?” he asked, trying to recall what he had heard from the UN about Kal-El and how different he was from their Superman. They had mentioned something about that, but he couldn't recall anyone explaining what it could actually do.
“Yeah. I’m helping him. We can’t move, so if you . . . if you could . . . ?” He took a deep breath, and Hirsch grew alarmed at how labored it suddenly sounded.
“What do you need?” Hirsch asked.
“Get out. Tell people . . . to get out,” he said. “I don’t know . . . how long . . . we can hold–”
Abruptly, there was a surprised shout somewhere to their left and the sound of metal shifting.
Instinctively, Hirsch tried to move himself, placing his hands on the metal on his chest and
pushing. It moved.
It actually moved.
How could he move something that should weigh at least a ton? It felt as if it was only 100 pounds!!
"Fredy?" Linda gasped at him as they heard more sounds of things moving elsewhere.
"Come on! We need to get out from under this stuff now!" Hirsch exclaimed, suddenly recognizing the new danger they faced.
What would happen if they didn't get out and this aura of protection failed?!
A pulse of encouragement from Kal's aura immediately followed, along with an overwhelming sense of urgency.
"We need to get others to do the same! Superman and Kal can't keep up this protection forever!" he shouted, completely shoving the debris off of himself.
His words spurred people near him to do the same, and the message spread.
Cries of fear and despair quickly transformed into shouts of determination and joy. A spattering of lights returned, most of them from flashlights, and Hirsch could make out more than one form hoisting up impossibly large hunks of debris before they set them aside.
Sitting up, Hirsch looked back to Kal and Superman, who were shrouded in shadows, as he felt the power saturating his skin shiver.
"Superman?" he asked, turning his eyes to the man who was still gripping his shoulder and the other kneeling behind him.
From what he could see, they both appeared to be in deep concentration, though Kal seemed to be outside any awareness.
"Hurry," Superman gritted out.
The aura pulsed and shifted. Hirsch gasped at its intensity and the driving purpose behind it. It held for a long moment before certain accomplishment solidified for a split second and then . . . it flickered.
“Kal-El!” Superman blurted in alarm, as if he had been struck.
Kal’s hand on his shoulder went completely limp. The power across his skin vanished in a blink, leaving him winded from what felt like the world’s largest adrenaline rush.
O o O
[Two Minutes Prior]
Kal pushed his aura as far as it could go, reaching every soul within the confines of the stadium and a touch beyond some corners. Weaving his power, he thickened it as best he could, restricting it just enough not to heal, but to protect and strengthen.
He did it just in time as a huge chunk of roof slammed down, directly on top of them. He had been focusing so much on his aura, he hadn't even seen it coming.
He felt the abrupt strain on his aura at each impact that occurred throughout the stadium, pulling at his reserves to keep those within his aura safe. And he knew they were safe. He could feel an echo of their hearts beating through his aura, a thrum of life that helped distract him from the discomfort. But he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. A minute perhaps? Two? And things were still shaking, still falling.
"Kal?!"
/Clark! I can’t keep this up for long. It's too much!/
He heard Hirsch gasp beside him as Superman climbed down to them.
"Superman?" Hirsch gasped. "Wha–?"
"Hold on, Kal," Superman said through the persistent tremors. "Let me help you."
He wasn't sure what Clark was going to do, but then he felt Clark’s hand take hold of the back of his neck, right above his cape, touching his bare skin.
For a split second, his mind went back to Ta'peel, but then a push of energy – push, not pull – surged into his center.
Clark was extending his aura to him, trying to provide him with an extra boost of power.
/Take what you need,/ Clark urged.
Kal gratefully took what was offered, immediately using Clark’s power to reinforce what he had already established and to refill a portion of his reserves because he knew it wasn't over.
More debris landed. He could feel the pressure of the impacts on those throughout the stadium. Some large, some small, but each resulted in a jolt of shock and bafflement from each individual struck. Confusion and fear resounded through his aura as the quake continued, leaving his head reeling in all the sensations feeding back from thousands of individuals.
The shaking finally stopped, but he held out his aura, knowing it was the only thing preventing many from instant death. He bit his lip to keep from gasping out. He couldn't stop now!
He needed to last long enough for them to climb out! To get out from beneath the debris. They need to get out!
Heart hammering in his chest, he wanted to say as much, wanted to communicate that to Clark, but all he could manage was a pulse of emotion. Anything more and he feared his concentration would slip.
He heard words but could not quite comprehend them. Clark and Hirsch were communicating, but all he got was a sense of their intentions.
Hirsch understood what was needed. He could sense his urgency, and Kal immediately encouraged that the best he could.
Surprise and relief pulsed toward him, and he could hear the sound of heavy thuds and shouts of encouragement rebound through the stadium.
He felt the pressure ease off of many trapped. Debris was being moved. He didn't question how, he was only grateful that people were escaping from what would have normally been an early grave.
His head began to pound and his vision blurred. The feedback from those under his protection was becoming thready. No. He had to hold on. He could feel that a few of them were still trapped, pinned under thousands of pounds of reinforced concrete and steel.
His aura flared, desperately trying to indicate where people were still trapped, trying to give them what was needed to get them out.
Clark’s hand on the back of his neck tightened and there was another push of power, but he felt his focus waning, petering out. Even so, he felt the last remaining individual come out from beneath deadly weight, and smiled.
He pushed what remained back into Clark, desperate to spare his counterpart from harm as his awareness dimmed.
“Kal-El!” Clark shouted.
He took in a slow deep breath, fighting a choking wave of sudden nausea as his senses sloshed back and forth. He heaved in breaths of air and after a long moment the darkness at the edges of his vision ebbed away. He could feel rain on his face.
“Just . . . just give me a moment,” he rasped, for the first time realizing he was sprawled out on the grass, his head and shoulders completely supported by Clark who he could sense was leaning over him in concern.
He opened his eye and found they were surrounded by an expanding group of astonished people on top of and among mounds of wet, jagged debris. Lights from dozens of flashlights were focused upon them and he squinted at them, slowly lifting a hand to shield his eye.
Upon his movement, instantaneous cheering commenced.
O o O
Lois wasn't surprised how the news continued to replay scenes of the past several days, particularly of Superman helping Kal out of a crumbled stadium among a mass of celebration and relief, despite the surrounding destruction.
She paused in folding her clothes as she simply watched from her couch, even though she had already seen it several times.
With Kal's arm slung over his shoulders, Clark, as Superman of course, levitated them over the broken path, as it was obvious Kal would not be able to navigate it. Clark’s left hand was braced against the center of Kal's emblem while his right arm was wrapped around his back to provide further support.
Kal was pale and looked utterly exhausted.
After exchanging a few words with one of the leaders overseeing the disaster relief, Superman gave a brief wave to the crowd as Kal attempted to do the same, and then Clark shot them into the sky.
The clip ended there.
Lois smiled, recalling how Clark had returned to help again soon after while Kal remained at S.T.A.R. Labs under sunlamps for the next day and a half – under Dr. Klein's orders.
Lois shook her head in amusement. Dr. Klein certainly took his job seriously as Superman’s, and now Kal’s, personal physician.
After examining Kal, he had ordered Kal to not restrict or do anything strenuous with his aura for the next week. He wanted to ensure he suffered no ill effects from exerting his aura as he had, and, according to his analysis from the data he had gathered on Kal's aura before, Kal would be better off leaving his aura as relaxed as possible. Interestingly, Kal didn’t object, and the Foundation soon gave a statement informing the general public of the doctor’s orders.
She and Clark ran the story soon after, of course, which pleased Perry to no end.
Fortunately, the world appeared to accept the situation with little question, and it was now clear to Lois why Kal tended to be so forthright. It did tend to make certain things easier.
If only everything was as easy.
She suddenly sighed.
Kal was doing a good job of hiding how he was feeling, especially when considering his aura, but it was clear he was desperate to get home.
However, they had no way of sending him home.
S.T.A.R. Labs had been unable to help.
She could tell he was growing tired, which wasn't really a surprise. She doubted he was getting good sleep when he did sleep.
What was he going to do? How long before he accepted he was stuck here and needed to start a new life?
Would he start a new life? Or would he continue as just Kal-El and . . . what?
He couldn't be Superman all the time, could he? Sure, he had been doing well, somehow, with just her, Clark, and Clark’s parents, but what about a life?
He hadn't said as much, but she could easily imagine his life as a P.I. would mean having a grounding in humanity he simply didn't have here.
This world knew him as Kal-El, Superman's counterpart. There was no place for Clark Kent, the P.I., the Lieutenant, the son, the husband.
Clark Kent already existed here.
She sighed. So sad for him.
Returning back to her laundry, she reached for a shirt when someone knocked on her door.
Strange. Who could that be? Both Clark and Kal were working on some things at the Foundation. Granted, they might have finished early, but, now that she knew, they usually just came in through the window.
She got up and looked through the peephole.
There was a short, old-fashioned, English-looking gentleman on the other side.
A little confused but unconcerned, she opened the door.
"Hello?" she asked him.
"Oh! Hello! My name is Herbert George Wells," he introduced, removing his hat.
Lois blinked at the excited old man and asked the first thing that popped into her mind. "Like the writer?"
O o O o O
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