PREVIOUSLY...
It had been a struggle not using his powers to such an extent that it became obvious to her what he was doing. Not only that, but he had to worry about her getting hurt. He had to avoid that at all costs. Still, the state of the room by the time Lois had gone limp in his arms certainly supported the idea that Lois had been abducted by Clark. After all, surely Superman could have done it with a lot less trouble.
Clark almost chuckled on that thought. Didn’t people realize by now that even Superman was hard pressed to best Lois Lane?
Clark’s almost smile turned to a frown. He figured he was going to soon be learning which one of them had the most determined stubborn streak because it wouldn’t likely be much longer before he was on the receiving end of Mad Dog Lane at her very best. And the only real advantage he had was that, unlike him, she had nowhere to run.
* * * * * * * * *
The sun coming between the curtains pulled Lois slowly out of sleep.
AND NOW - PART - 3
She moaned softly and, without opening her eyes, stretched contentedly. Suddenly, she sat up, completely awake. She looked around at the unfamiliar environment. Where was she? What exactly had happened? She was still struggling to put it all together when she became aware of something else.
She was out of bed immediately, hardly noticing that she was still wearing the light tank top and flannel pajama bottoms she’d worn to her bed at the clinic the previous night, and dashed for the door. She threw it open, spiriting outside.
She noticed Clark first, his head snapping up and swiveling in her direction. And suddenly she remembered what had transpired the night before. She might have been tempted to confront him but at the moment, she had more pressing concerns.
“Bathroom!” she demanded.
“Lois...” he began, obviously intending to talk to her.
“Sick!” she exclaimed in frustration, looking around in desperation.
Clark jumped to his feet and pointed, obviously finally understanding the urgency of the situation.
She rushed in the appropriate direction, entering the bathroom and, unable to hold off a moment more, emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl. Sweat congregated on her forehead, tears escaped to slide down her cheeks and her entire body felt cold and clammy as she continued to heave long after anything was left in her stomach. She was so focused on her immediate misery that she failed to notice Clark enter the room, failed to hear him turn the water on to wet a face cloth, even failed to notice him kneel behind her. What she didn’t fail to notice was when he placed the damp face cloth against her neck.
She wanted to push him away, to yell at him not to touch her, to reject his actions all together, but... damn! That cloth felt good, cooling the fever inside her head.
Finished dry heaving, she closed her eyes. The cloth moved and she felt him now slowly wiping the sweat from her face and forehead. She should push him away. She really should. After all, she could still remember the smell of the chloroform soaked cloth he’d held over her face, the way he’d persisted even in the light of her struggles. He’d kidnapped her. She knew that. But she couldn’t quite work up the energy required to fight him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he continued to wipe her face.
She cracked her eyes open finally and did her best to glare at him, although she was certain that in her current state it didn’t amount to much of a glare. Still, he seemed to understand her intent because his expression suddenly changed and he looked... hurt.
Anger flared inside her. How dare he look hurt? What did he expect? He’d drugged her and kidnapped her.
“I didn’t think I had any other choice, Lois,” he rushed to explain.
“No other choice,” she said, repeating the words hollowly.
“Something... unkosher was going on with Deter. I had to get you away from him.”
“Huh... So this is about you getting me away from the only man I love so that...”
“You don’t love him, Lois. You might think you do, but...”
“I love only Max, Clark. Only Max,” she said with as much force as she could muster. “You mean nothing to me.”
She’d added that last line in her anger, her need to hurt him like he had hurt her. And it worked. For a moment, she saw the pain she had inflicted on the lines of his face. Then he turned his head away from her and when he turned back he wore an impassive expression - a mask, she was sure, to keep her from seeing his emotions.
“Well, no matter,” he said flatly. “We’ll get you well and then if you want to go back to Deter...” He didn’t finish his thought as he finally rose to his feet and backed towards the bathroom door. “I’ll just... let you clean up,” he concluded finally stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
She closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool side of the toilet bowl for a moment, glad to have him gone. Now, all she had to do was to figure out a way to escape, to get back to Max - after all, he was the expert in memory loss. If he couldn’t help her, no one could.
But... but that would have to wait. For now she had something else she needed to do. She turned back to the toilet bowl as the dry heaves started again.
* * * * * * * * *
Lois cracked open the door of the bathroom slowly. Her head was still pounding and her stomach was taking no more than a short break from rebelling against the rest of her body, but that was hardly an excuse to delay. After taking a deep breath, she peaked out through the crack, holding her breath as she looked for the enemy. He was seated on a couch in sunken living room of the cabin, his back to her.
Okay, now was her chance.
Praying the door wouldn’t creak, she pushed it open just far enough that, keeping herself pressed tightly against the wall, she was able to slip outside. When she was finally outside the door, she used her foot to push the door closed again. She cringed when it clicked as it closed and held her breath as she waited to see if Kent was going to move.
He didn’t.
Still, it took her a moment more before she began creeping along the wall, step by slowly painful step. It seemed to take forever, but eventually she’d managed to snake across the floor of the cabin until she was at the door. She glanced again at the man with his back still to her, seemingly engrossed in a book.
Good.
She turned her attention back to the door, noting that it seemed devoid of any sort of lock. Now, that surprised her. She was fairly certain that her own door had numerous locks. Or maybe that was just a movie or something she had seen once. Whatever. It wasn’t as if she’d been back to her own apartment since... well, for as long as she could clearly remember anyway.
She glanced again at the man on the couch. Could it be that she was living with him? Maybe. After all, he had said something about them getting married. Still, when she’d gone to his apartment a week ago, there hadn’t been any signs that she... or any other woman for that matter were living there. Come to think of it, if they were getting married, shouldn’t there have at least been a picture of them together or something?
She gave her head a shake. There was no point in worrying about such matters at the moment. The important thing right now was to find her way back to Max. And to do that... she focused her attention on the door. Obviously, Kent didn’t know her nearly as well as he claimed or he’d have had a number of locks installed on the door - and ones that only opened with a key, no matter what side of the door one was on.
Slowly, carefully, she took hold of the doorknob and turned. She almost sighed in relief when no sound came as a result of the action. Once the knob was fully turned, she held her breath and pushed the door open. When a small creak resulted, her head spun towards Kent. She rolled her eyes at her own fears when she realized that he hadn’t moved an inch. Obviously his hearing wasn’t that good.
It just proved exactly how little he really knew her if he thought a little stomach ache was enough to keep her prisoner in this place. Maybe she hadn’t really been engaged to him at all. In fact, how did she really know that he was her partner at work? What if all of that was just part of his obviously sick fantasy of kidnapping her and whisking her away to... well, wherever she was now?
Once the door had opened far enough for her to squeeze through the opening, she did exactly that before, taking as much care as she had at opening the door, she closed it, cringing slightly at the faint sound of a click it made when it came fully closed.
Still, this time she didn’t wait to see if Kent had heard her. Instead, she turned and, shoeless, ran down the steps, determined to make her escape now while the getting was good and...
...came to an abrupt halt when she finally took in her surroundings.
Sand. Everywhere. Under her feet. Squishing between her toes. Spread out in front of her like a endless ribbon of white. On one side of the ribbon was an ocean of deep blue. On the other, trees as far as the eye could see. And not only that, but...
“Palm trees? Since when do we have palm trees in Metropolis?” she asked herself pointlessly.
She gave her head a quick shake. It didn’t matter where she was. This was her chance and she was not about to let it slip through her fingers the way sand was slipping through her toes. She took off. Running as fast as she could through the soft, shifting sands, she began to put distance between herself and the cabin.
She was free. And for now, that was what mattered. It was all that mattered. She’d worry about how to find Max when she was far enough away from Kent to avoid recapture.
* * * * * * * * *
Exhausted, Lois’ running had ended sometime earlier, long before she finally came around a bend in the shore and found herself once again spotting the same cabin she’d escaped from earlier. She came to a halt, placing her hands on her knees and breathing heavily in an effort to regain her breath, even as she kept her eyes on the sight before her.
Just her luck. She’d obviously run all the way around what was clearly an island only to end up back where she’d started. Only this time, Kent was sitting on the steps of the cabin watching her. If he tried to chase her now, she wouldn’t stand a chance. The cramp in her side and her battered feet were too much of a barrier for her to overcome against the noticeably athletic man sitting on the steps - or at least not when he was rested and she was exhausted.
So... what to do?
Well, if the defensive strategy failed, there was always the offensive. Flight or fight. Wasn’t that what they said? She’d tried flight. She’d seen no boats on the island, so that must mean there was a landing pad or a helicopter pad or something further inland. And surely there would be a way there for her to contact someone - unless, of course, he actually had a plane and pilot standing by. That meant that flight might still be available. But she needed a little time to work out her new strategy. Let him think she was defeated. She’d show him just who was defeated by the time she was finished with him.
Straightening up and using all the dignity she could muster, she began walking towards him. She cringed slightly as the pain in her feet caused her to hobble more than she would have liked. The sand, although soft, still had the occasional rock hidden in it - and she figured her feet had become intimately acquainted with everyone during her flight around the perimeter of the island.
“If you want to continue with your exploration of the island,” Clark said when she was still at least fifty feet away, “you’ll need those.”
What? He couldn’t really be stupid enough to think that she’d just been out ‘exploring,’ could he? Still, her eyes followed to where he was pointing.
About thirty yards past where he was seated, she saw a picnic table nestled in the shade. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a number of items on the table. A pile of clothes, topped off with a large brimmed sun hat. Beside that sat a pair of women’s sneakers and a bottle of what appeared to be a sun screen. But the item that most caught her attention was a large glass of water.
She subconsciously licked her lips, only realizing what she had done when she saw his gaze focus on her mouth and his eyes darken in response to her gesture.
‘Eat your heart out, Kent,’ she said silently to herself. ‘Cause that’s as close as you’re ever going to get.’
Still, she didn’t take long to focus on that issue since her mind was already occupied with the items on the table. It was a trap. It had to be. Still, those items were not only useful, but necessary if she were to continue her search.
She eyed the beach in front of him. If she were to attempt to get them, she would have to pass by where he was seated, giving him a chance to grab her.
“Suit yourself,” he said when she continued to stand there. He slowly rose to his feet and she prepared herself to run back down the beach. “But I just think they may help.”
He turned back towards the cabin, confusing her slightly. When he reached the door, his hand still on the knob, he looked back at her. “Or if you change your mind, I’ve got some cold ice tea waiting for you inside.”
Before she could respond, he turned the knob on the door and reentered the cabin, leaving the door slightly open behind him.
She stood there for a moment more, waiting to see if he would reemerge. When he didn’t, she looked at the picnic table again. She really needed those items. Still, it was a trap. It had to be. Problem was, she didn’t know what exactly the trap could be - unless it was that he would come flying out of the cabin the instant she crossed in front of it on her way to the table.
That must be it. That meant she had to be faster. Gathering all her remaining strength, she put all of her energy into running the distance to the table faster than she thought was even possible. She quickly glanced behind her as she neared the table. He hadn’t come out.
What?
She stopped next to the table and looked cautiously at the items. Was there some sort of trap that would be set off if she picked something up - like a bear pulling on a chunk of meat that would release a net to fall on him.
She didn’t see anything like that. No carefully concealed wires. No net or cage hanging above her. No snare carefully set out on the ground below her. Still... She glanced at the water, her hand going out to grab it, when she stopped. No. That was the most likely... in fact, it was the only trap she could see. He could easily have put something in the water. So, in spite of her thirst screaming at her about her body’s need for liquid, she ignored the water, grabbing the most important item first - the sneakers. When she appeared to have time for more, she grabbed the sunhat, placing it on her head. That was when she noticed the socks. They would certainly make it easier on her feet. She snatched them up, along with the long sleeved cotton shirt and the sun screen before darting further away.
He still hadn’t come.
Okay, then. The water must have been the thing that was meant to trap her. She quickly sat down on a nearby log, keeping her eyes on the door, waiting for him to realize that his plan hadn’t worked as she strove to pull on the socks and shoes as quickly as possible.
She took one final glance behind her as she took off into the trees, surprised to see that he wasn’t hot on her heals. In fact, although her last sight of the cabin showed him standing in the doorway, it seemed obvious he wasn’t even attempting to follow.
* * * * * * * * *
Clark didn’t take his eyes off her. He followed her path with both his x-ray and telescopic vision, ready to rush to the rescue if she got herself in any real trouble. After all, no one could get herself in trouble faster than Lois Lane - even on a deserted island.
His body tensed several times, but his assistance had not been necessary. She was Lois Lane after all - even if she couldn’t remember it.
He knew she needed to do this. Needed to prove to herself that there was no way off the island. That she would never settle down to work on figuring out who she was until she realized that it was her only way out of here.
He did worry slightly that she might try to do something stupid, like trying to swim the ocean in hopes of crossing a shipping lane to get picked up by a passing ship. He could only hope that whatever Deter had done to make her fall in love with him didn’t make her do something that idiotic. Of course, he had an advantage on the average man. No matter what she did, he could get to her faster than she would currently believe possible.
He sighed in relief when he saw Lois finally stumble across the freshwater falls close to the middle of the island. He’d been concerned when she’d left without drinking the water. And as she fell to her knees at the side of the pool next to the falls and begin to cup water up with her hands to drink, his concern was validated. With all the exercise she’d been doing in the hot sun, it was only to be expected that she’d need water. If she hadn’t found the waterfalls soon, he’d have had to go out, maybe make noises in the forest that might direct her towards it. Fortunately, that hadn’t been necessary.
He was so lost in thought, he was unaware at first of exactly what she was doing after taking a long drink of water. When he did become aware, he couldn’t bring himself to look away as first her top and then her pajama bottoms were tossed aside, followed by what little she was wearing underneath.
Suddenly, she disappeared into the water, snapping him out of his trance. Realizing that he’d seen more than she would currently be comfortable with, he looked away. Not that the images of what he’d seen would vanish as quickly.
The image invoked other feelings. Primary among them was the realization that they should have been married by now, that the brief glimpse he had been given today completely by accident should have been a regular occurrence by now. The anguish that thought brought was almost as difficult as anything else had been over the course of the past month.
He glanced back at her through the cabin walls and the surrounding trees. She’d emerged from the pool of water at the base of the waterfalls and was standing, her back to him, on the rocks at the foot of the falls, allowing the fresh water to pour down over her already slick body. He groaned again but didn’t look away, following the curves and lines of her back, down to her feet and then back up again until she turned around and then, quickly, he forced himself to look away. By the time he looked again, she was dressed in her pajama bottoms and tank top with the long sleeved shirt hanging loosely over her shoulders, protecting her from the sun. She was sitting by the side of the pool, dragging her still bare feet through the water distractedly. He couldn’t help thinking she looked so sad and his heart broke for her.
Still, there was no time left to sit around. He rose to his feet. It was getting late. Time for him to try again.
* * * * * * * * *
She almost wasn’t surprised when he appeared through the thick foliage. This time, she didn’t even bother to move - although she was surprised when he stopped some distance from her and, without saying a word, removed his own shoes and socks and sat down, dangling his feet in the same pond as her.
There was something almost intimate about seeing his bare feet and she forced herself to look away, to stare, without seeing, at the water as it plunged over the rocks and into the waiting pond below.
“Supper’s ready if you’d care to join me,” he said softly.
“I’m not hungry,” she answered flatly. The instant growling of her stomach lay proof to the lie. But if he had heard, he gave no indication. Instead he simply nodded and continued to sit in silence.
“There’s no way off this island, is there?” she finally asked. She wasn’t certain why she was bothering to ask - it wasn’t as if she was about to believe anything he said anyway.
As if he read her thoughts, he almost smiled. The smile disappeared when he saw her glare at him.
“You’ve spent the day covering every square inch of it,” he responded instead of answering her directly. “What do you think?”
She shrugged, not quite willing to concede the point. “That you have an invisible helicopter pad around here somewhere.”
This time he really did smile and for some bizarre reason she found herself smiling back - although once she realized what she was doing, she immediately regained control of her facial features and glared at him again. His smile instantly faded and she found herself missing it.
‘Stockholm syndrome,’ she told herself firmly. ‘Identifying with, even developing feelings for, one’s captors. It’s normal. Doesn’t mean anything.’
“Look, Lois,” he began again after another long pause. “We’re stuck on this island. I guess what happens now is up to you. You can stay here or you can use this time to try to get your memory back. I’ve brought copies of all your old stories and your photo albums. I even found a couple of your old diaries to look through from when you were a kid. I can’t give you anything more recent, but I thought even the earlier ones might help.”
She glanced over at him in the fading light. She got the feeling that he felt uncomfortable with the last admission, as if something about it wasn’t quite true. Maybe not an outright lie - but not quite the truth either. Or maybe he was just feeling guilty about reading her diaries himself. Maybe that was what had him so captivated earlier when he’d let her leave the cabin.
Let her leave. Was that what he had done? Had he known that she would concentrate all her energy on escaping for so long as she believed it was a possibility and had simply let her do it?
Or maybe she was misreading him. Maybe he wasn’t feeling guilty about reading her diaries. Maybe he was uncomfortable because something about what he’d said wasn’t true. So what could... Not being able to give her more recent diaries? Could that be what he was lying about? He hadn’t said she didn’t have more recent diaries - or that he’d been unable to find any. He’d said he ‘couldn’t give her’ more recent diaries. Maybe he had found her more recent diaries, assuming she kept any, but didn’t want her to see them for some reason. For example, if he had been lying about the nature of their relationship, he would naturally not want her to see them.
Suddenly, she was itching to get back to the cabin and scour it until she found those diaries. Because, surely, he would have at least brought them with him. So what was it that he was so determined to keep her from knowing? And could she use it to make him perform whatever voodoo was necessary to get her off this island and back to the only man she truly loved.
Besides, those diaries could help her get her memory back. And that was something she was all for. Still, the best way, by far, to work on getting her memory back was to find her way back to Max. After all, he was the country’s foremost expert in memory loss. And he had promised her some intensive one on one therapy when they got to the south of France. Kent had compromised all that by kidnapping her and bringing her here.
“Well, anyway,” Clark said, interrupting her thoughts, “if you want supper, it’s ready. Just follow the path. It will take you right back to the cabin.” With that he rose to his feet. For a moment he paused and she thought he might say something more, but then he simply turned and began walking in the direction of the cabin.
TO BE CONTINUED...
ML
