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Lois Lane, Last Will and Testament.
By Tank


It was cold. I was cold. I was really cold. Again I cursed the fact that I hadn't taken the time to put on a heavier coat when I'd left. Blood trickled down my forehead from the gash that had been caused when my head had hit the steering wheel. My jeep didn't have an air bag, so there had been no cushion for my face as it slammed into the wheel.

Light enough to see by still came through the back windows. The front half of my vehicle was totally covered by the deep snow of the ditch that it now rested in, but the back third of the jeep remained uncovered. Of course, as snow continued to fall it was only a matter of time until the entire jeep was buried.

The dash had been collapsed by the impact and was effectively trapping my legs. With an extreme effort I might be able to free one leg, but it would take nothing less than the Jaws of Life to free the other. The left leg also felt 'wrong'. I couldn't tell if it was broken or not because the cold inhibited the pain. Still, I could tell that it wasn't right.

It looked like I was stuck were I was for the duration. Once again Lois Lane had jumped into the pool without checking water level.

@ I struck the passenger window with my closed fist. The only effect that had was to cause my hand to sting significantly. I stretched as far as I could, my leg protesting the movement, as I reached for the glove box. I opened the compartment only to find it littered with gasoline receipts and insurance information. No handy man-sized flashlight which I might use to break the window and use as a signal.

In movies, and other fiction, the heroine is usually able to get out of being trapped in a vehicle by breaking out a window and struggling through the opening. The reality was; vehicle window glass was substantial. It needed to be strong as it played an important role in the structural integrity of the car. Nothing less than a hammer, or a good sized rock would be able to break any of these windows; not that I was eager to let even more cold air into the jeep, but it would have been nice to have that option.

I was just so frustrated. I hated feeling helpless, but intellectually I knew my situation was dire. I was angry and I felt stupid. @

It had seemed too good to be true, and it had been; but I couldn't pass up the chance, as unlikely as it was, that the tip was genuine. Things had been slow that morning. I didn't even know where Clark was. He'd run out early with some lame excuse about having forgotten to mail his utility bill. The ringing of the phone had been a welcome diversion.

Clark and I had been stymied in our investigation of Trenton Construction. There had been loose talk on the streets that the CEO of Trenton, Paul Van Brocklin, was making a lot of under the table deals with less than reputable suppliers which could have the effect of compromising structural integrity and worker safety. There had been a couple of accidents on their West River site, but nothing that couldn't be explained away as just unlucky incidents.

Clark and I had been trying to track down Van Brocklin for an interview all week, but he'd managed to be several steps ahead of us. The man had, for all intents and purposes, vanished.

The caller had refused to identify himself, big surprise there, but what he'd had to say had peaked the interest of this frustrated reporter. The bottom line was that the caller had said he could give me the whereabouts of our vanished CEO but, another big surprise, not over the phone.

We agreed on a time and place to meet, and I was on my way. I know I should have, at least, left Clark a note, or told Perry where I was going, but I hadn't. It just wasn't a habit that I'd ever gotten into. As much as I enjoyed working with Clark, I was still prone to making snap decisions and acting on them before fully weighing the consequences. I knew that odds were against this being a lead that might actually lead to Paul Van Brocklin, but I couldn't ignore the possibility.

As it was I barely made the meet. Well, meet was a misnomer. I didn't actually meet with my mysterious source. I arrived at the small diner that had been picked as our rendezvous point. It was located about fifty miles north of Metropolis on an old two lane blacktop that had been forgotten a decade ago. A lot of the old county roads and smaller state highways had seen much of their traffic siphoned off since the completion of the revamped interstate that served the state north of Metropolis. But when I went inside, my mystery caller was gone.

I had seen another car leaving the diner just as I arrived but thought nothing of it. Upon entering I noted that there was no one there. When I queried the proprietor I discovered that the person I'd seen just leaving had left a note for me. All it said was 'I changed my mind, sorry'. That answer was not acceptable to me, so I left the diner and headed in the direction I'd seen the departed car going. I hoped that I could catch up with the person and convince them to talk to me.

I admit that it wasn't the brightest plan. I'd have been much better served if I'd just turned around and gone home. But, as I'd said, Clark and I hadn't had much luck on the story and I figured any lead, no matter how lame, was better than no lead. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

This part of New Troy had received quite a bit of snow recently, and the forecast had been for more significant snowfall that day. The clouds looked threatening in the direction I was going but I had hoped that I would catch up with my caller and be on my way back to Metropolis before much more snow would fall. Wrong again.

I never did catch up with my reluctant source. In fact, in the hour that I had been driving since leaving the diner, I never saw another vehicle on the road. That should have told me something.

By that time it had been snowing for awhile and the driving had become increasingly difficult. Visibility had dropped dramatically, and the blowing snow had made the road surface slippery. I'd considered turning around and heading back to the diner, but chose to continue on. I assumed I'd come across a small town soon, and would find someplace there to wait out the storm. Strike three.

Since leaving the diner the countryside had begun to change. The past hour I had been driving through wooded hills and valleys. The road got narrower, and the shoulders were practically non-existent. The occasional outcropping of rocks and boulders were a sure sign that I had strayed into the foothills. One side of the road would rise up twenty to thirty feet while the opposite would fall away by just as much.

I had been traveling less than two hours since the start of my chase of the mystery man when the inevitable happened. It had become obvious that there was no way I was going to catch him, if he'd ever been on the road at all. For all I knew, he might have turned off onto some local side street before I even began to give chase. The visibility had been continually deteriorating as the snow continued to fall. I began to believe that I wasn't going to come across that 'next' small town, but I doubted that I had enough gas to get me back to the diner even if I could somehow get turned around and navigate my way back.

I had slowed down considerably, but it didn’t help. I just couldn't see far enough in front of me. Finally, it happened, the road took a sharp right turn that I wasn't able to negotiate. By the time I realized the county road was no longer in front of me, it was too late. The front end of my jeep didn't respond to the panicked hard turn of the steering wheel as the tires didn't find any dry pavement to get some traction on. They slid easily on the snow covered roadway and suddenly I was plunging, headlong, down into the deep ditch.

The jeep came to a hard stop up against a massive rocky outcrop which caused significant damage to the driver's side front end and was responsible for trapping my legs. I was head down in the ditch at about a twenty degree angle. I had bought the jeep for its 4-wheel drive rugged versatility, but nothing short of a metal tracked vehicle was going to be able to free itself, or me. I was stuck.

I tried again to free my legs but a sharp grinding pain made me reconsider. I stared at the formless grey that blanketed my windshield, and side windows. A little of the back window was still uncovered, but the light was getting dimmer by the minute. I wasn't sure which would happen first. Would the sun set, or would the snow finish covering my jeep? I guess the point was really moot because in not too many more minutes it would be dark inside my car.

I had some hard decisions to make. It was getting colder as night came on, and if I wasn't found soon I stood a real good chance of freezing to death. I supposed I could restart the engine and use the heater to keep warm, but that would only speed up my death. By now the tailpipe would have been completely blocked causing the exhaust to back-up into the jeep. I would fall asleep and never wake up. It was a common form of suicide.

@ The option of breaking the passenger window to provide fresh air so I could run the heater longer was no longer viable even if I'd had something with which I could accomplish the feat. The snow was firmly packed around the front and side of the jeep, and there was no way I could reach the back window. And even that would be covered soon. @

For the time being, I decided that I would try to cope with the cold as best I could. I could always opt for the warmth and the long sleep if the cold became unbearable and any hope of rescue was gone.

@ Periodically I had been honking the horn, hoping that someone passing by might hear it and know I was trapped. Of course, considering how bad the weather had gotten, and how bad the road conditions were; the odds of anyone being out driving around were astronomical. Also, there was little chance that any snow plows would be out trying to clear the road until after the snow stopped falling, which wasn't supposed to happen until sometime later tomorrow. @ My chances of seeing another sunrise weren't too good. Why hadn't I left Clark a note.

My next decision was what to do about the rapidly approaching darkness. I didn't exactly relish sitting in the dark, being bored, as I slowly froze to death. I had to do something. Since I couldn't move more than a few inches in any direction, that left writing. I knew I had a small note pad in my bag, and probably six or seven pens, one of which I hoped actually worked.

Of course, if I was going to write, I'd need to be able to see, and the darkness was becoming more complete by the minute. I reached up and flicked on the overhead dome light. I knew that leaving the headlights on for a few hours could drain the battery to the point of not being able to start the engine if I needed to, and I wanted to keep that option open. But I was sure that the little dome light wouldn't put a serious drain on the battery for several hours, and by then my fate would probably be sealed.

The small lamp didn't offer much light, but it would be enough. I pulled the pad, and a likely pen out of my bag and leaned back a bit more in the seat. Now that I had decided to write, I suppose I had to figure out what I should write.

My first idea was to write up the story. I didn't bother to title it. I thought "The Stupid Death of Lois Lane" just didn't really sing. But I did feel I should give an account on how I got here. So I wrote up the events of my day, beginning with the phone call that had led me on this unfortunate wild goose chase.

I frowned as I folded over the last page. It hadn't taken more than twenty minutes to finish up the 'story'. Now what? I stared at the new, blank page for several moments. I chewed on my lower lip, then I began to write. This did deserve a proper title.

"The Last Will and Testament of Lois Lane."

"I, Lois Lane, being of sound mind and moderately sound body, do hereby establish this document as my last will and testament. As I find myself confronted with a potentially life threatening situation, with the establishment of this document I hope to make my final wishes on certain matters known."

I had to smirk at the formal tone of the first paragraph. I knew that whatever I wrote here would never stand up to a serious challenge in a court of law, but I hoped that by making it sound more like a real will those mentioned might be willing to abide by my choices. I didn't have a will, which in light of how I lived my life, was not terribly smart. But then, I was Lois Lane and I was invincible... almost. I picked the pen back up.

"To my sister Lucy, I leave control of all my financial assets and physical properties excepting those which I designate to others in the course of this document. I also wish to leave her with a giant blanket apology for all the hard times I've given her over the years. She has to know that I only did it because I cared. I never would have made it through those tough times without you, Luce. I love you, and I always have.

"To my parents I leave only regret that they weren't smart enough to realize that they weren't able to handle the responsibility of raising two children, and a hope that someday they can find some form of happiness whether it be with or without each other. Also, I leave my final expenses to my father. He will never be forced to pay for my wedding so the least he can do is pay for my funeral."

Perhaps I was a bit tough on my folks. I know Clark would think so, but then he has no frame of reference, having been raised by 'the perfect parents'. I shook my head. No, it was all they deserved.

"To Perry White; my Editor-in Chief, my mentor, and the man I regarded more as a father than the one whose genetics I share, I leave my deepest respect and my Kerth awards. Since it was his encouragement, and guidance that made me the reporter I am, he is as deserving of those awards as I was."

I stopped to wipe a tear from my cheek. In a perverse sort of way it seemed somehow right that I would go before Perry. I just couldn't imagine the Daily Planet without Perry. It just wouldn't be home. I sighed, then put pen back to paper.

"To Jimmy Olsen I leave my eternal gratitude for being a good friend. He was like my little brother. When others shunned Mad Dog Lane, Jimmy was always willing to help me out whenever, and with whatever I needed. He probably doesn't realize how invaluable he was to me and Clark with his exceptional skills at computer research. We both owed him a lot for our successes. I would like to leave Jimmy my jeep, hoping it would make it easier for him to get back and forth to work, but I'm afraid the poor old thing is pretty far from functional anymore. I just wish that Lucy could see Jimmy for the good guy that he is and maybe that might break the chain of disasters that have dogged her dating life. If that ever comes about, they both have my blessing."

That left Clark.

I knew that my death would hurt Clark deeply. I only had to remember back not too many weeks to when I thought that I had lost him to Clyde Barrow's bullets. I'd spent a tearful night trying to imagine what my life would be like without my best friend in it. It had also been a sort of epiphany for me. I think it really wasn't until that moment, the moment when I thought that I'd lost him; I realized how much he really meant to me.

If Clark feels anything similar to what I felt that night, I can only hope that he can find comfort with his family and friends. In that he is luckier than I was. Of course, I was the most fortunate by far. I got Clark back. I don't think there is going to be any Professor Hamilton type miracle for me.

I mentally kicked myself for my actions after Clark's astounding resurrection. I had deeply regretted having not told Clark how I really felt about him before he was taken from me. So what did I do? I slipped back into familiar patterns and couldn't bring myself to confess my true feelings. That would make me vulnerable. I knew that Clark would never consciously hurt me, but I just couldn't take that chance. Lois Lane had survived too many 'federal disasters' when it came to relationships with men, and I wasn't about to let it happen again. Besides, I didn't want to risk the friendship that the two of us had managed to rebuild after the fiasco that was my aborted wedding to Lex. Dumb.

It might be too little, too late, but I wouldn't chicken out this time. It was time to let Clark know the truth. He deserved that much.

"To Clark Kent I leave three things. First, I want him to have the photo of the two of us taken after his first Kerth win. It will help to remind him of happier times. Second, I give him my apology for all the hard times I've given him in the past; the bad moods, the attitudes and arrogance that would surface from time to time, and the fact that I too often hide my true feelings from him. Clark was the only partner I could ever work with, and the best friend I thought I would never have. I cannot begin to enumerate the qualities that make Clark so special so I won't. Instead I'll just say; to Clark Kent I leave... my heart.

"Lois Joanne Lane."

I set the pen and pad down on the seat next to me and let my head fall back against the seatback. It was either fully dark out now, or my jeep had been completely covered by the snow. It was hard to tell for sure. Probably both were true.

It was getting colder and now that I'd stopped working on my will, the pain of the severe chill became nearly unbearable. I'd always thought that freezing to death would just encompass a gradual numbness overcoming me until I just drifted off. No one had said anything about the pain. It didn't make sense logically, but the pain in my fingers and toes was almost like a burning sensation. The pain in my legs from the cold had passed from a chilly numbness, to an agony that blotted out the throbbing of my injury. I knew I wasn't far from serious hypothermia. @ The cold was also affecting my thought processes. I knew I should continue to try to think of a way out of the mess I was in, but I couldn't seem to generate any incentive to do so. I just wanted to be warm again.@

It was time.

I reached for the car keys and turned the ignition. The engine protested the abuse I was putting it through by trying to rouse it from its near frozen slumber. But finally, after nearly running the battery down with several false starts, the engine caught and began to run. I quickly threw the temperature gauge to full heat, and flipped the fan switch. Cool air began to blow into the cab which caused me to start shivering. The violence of my shaking was beginning to hurt before the thermostat finally opened up and warm air began to flow into my prison.

It was like heaven.

As the numbness of the cold began to leach out of my fingers and toes, the burning sensations came back. Still, it was bearable. More bearable than the cold. It was only a few more minutes before it was positively warm. I was beginning to feel sleepy.

I didn't have any idea how long it would take for the cabin of my jeep to fill with the trapped exhaust fumes which would cause unconsciousness, and eventually death. The fact that it would happen, of that there was no doubt. I may not have much time left, but, at least I would die warm.

I shifted about some, trying to find the most comfortable position. I stared down at the pad of paper on the seat next to me. "I love you, Clark."

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

******************************

Epilogue

Okay, gentle readers, it's up to you. Is this really the end of Lois Lane? Or is there still another miraculous rescue left in the old Lane Luck. Is Lois taking her final nap? Or will she somehow cheat death once again. It's time for the gentle readers to chime in. How do *you* want this tale to end?

Is it the Lady... or the Tiger? (so to speak )

Tank


[Just adding part no. to header - LabRat]