"This is the key to our victory," Trask said. "This is the means by which we will wrest back the control of our planet from the invaders who came to seize it from us."
With a sharp movement, Trask lifted the lid from the box.
A shaft of intense pain assaulted Clark's body.
He briefly registered the presence of the glowing green chunk of rock in the box before his eyes slammed shut.
Clutching his chest, Clark collapsed to the ground.
Part 22
Jason Trask looked down at his fallen enemy. He didn't believe for a moment that he'd won the battle, but that didn't put any sort of restraint on the intoxicating river of pure hatred that coursed through his veins.
Today's events were the result of two years of meticulous planning. Trask surveyed the room - he had personally selected each man present. He'd assembled a team of rigorously trained soldiers and uncompromising government officials - men who were capable of comprehending the imminent danger and had committed themselves to the total obliteration of the alien enemy. Trask studied each face individually. There had been ripples of unrest recently. The unfortunate drawback of men with sufficient insight to perceive a situation accurately was that they occasionally entertained the delusion that their opinions were valid.
They weren't. Never would be.
This was to be Trask's victory and his alone. He would eliminate - ruthlessly and permanently - anyone who stood between him and the ultimate triumph. Trask was confident that once the world understood his achievement, the necessary deaths would be dismissed as the unavoidable casualties of war.
He had invited two former colleagues to this victory ceremony - men he had worked with on previous assignments, men who would ask intelligent questions and provide the perfect forum for Trask to elucidate his masterful strategy. Men who, having asked their questions, would bow to his genius with right and proper deference.
Trask turned to the camera. He'd decided against a live-feed to the television stations. By the time the world knew, the deed would be irreversible. But it had to be recorded for posterity - that all would know the debt they owed him.
Trask fixed his eyes in the camera and began his account of how he had saved humanity.
||_||
Clark writhed as the effects of the green rock tormented his body.
He felt his strength draining away in a whirlpool of agony. The pain centred in his chest, and each heartbeat propelled the anguish through his body. He was burning up. His mind was unable to focus. He knew unconsciousness was lurking, ready to spring upon him should he cease to fight for one moment.
Trask talked. Ranted. Raved. He outlined every plan his sickened mind had concocted and attributed to the evil aliens. He detailed how their every intention was about to be foiled by 'the brilliance of his plan'. He talked about the power of the green rock.
Through the ravages of his pain, Clark heard most of it. Words like 'control' and 'invasion' and 'annihilation' felt like barbs piercing his heart. His spirit wanted to fight, to deny, to demand his right to reply, but his body was unable to answer the call.
He tried to concentrate on Trask's voice. Tried to cling to it as a means to retain consciousness.
"... and so, people of this great planet, know that your government and your scientists have today brought you freedom from the scourge of alien invasion. This warning will echo throughout the universe - through all life forms everywhere. We are not a vulnerable people. We can defend that which is rightfully ours."
Clark heard the sharp bang of the lid closing, and immediately, the intensive stabbing in his chest lessened. He took two feeble, steadying breaths, as the lingering waves of torture rolled through his body. He opened his eyes.
As he did, a man dressed in a business suit spoke up. "What if you're wrong?" he said, loudly and clearly.
Slowly, Trask turned to the dissenter. "Wrong?" he sneered in a tone of disbelief.
"What if the green rock *isn't* the source of alien power? Clearly, it has an effect on Superman. But the effect seems to be detrimental to his strength."
"Don't be ridiculous," Trask snarled. "Do you really think that you would know more than the brilliant American scientists who have been studying this rock for over a year?"
"I know what my eyes see, and they see that the presence of the green rock severely debilitates the alien."
Trask took a mountainous breath, obviously struggling to contain his temper. "Did you not hear anything I said?" he grated. "The aliens get their superior strength from the tiny particles of this rock. We have searched the planet and combined all fragments of this rock into this large, supremely powerful piece. Once we have expelled this rock into outer space, all aliens will be reduced to human strength. Indeed, it is our belief that once we have forever removed their life force, they will quickly wither up and die."
"He looks like he is dying now," the dissenter noted.
"He is unused to being subjected to such huge amounts of the rock at close range," Trask said dismissively. "What you see is similar to a drug addict overdosing."
"So once he overcomes the initial effects ... what will happen then?" Clark could hear traces of panic in the question.
"By then, he will know that certain death awaits him."
There was a period of silence and then another voice spoke. "How can you know for sure that it's from this rock that the aliens get their power?"
"Because we have proven beyond doubt that the rock is alien in nature," Trask responded. "The only way it could be here is if it were brought by the aliens. Why would they bring it with them if they didn't *need* it to power their insurgency?"
"Have you considered that by destroying all the green rock, you could perhaps be destroying the only way to control their powers? Perhaps this represents not their power, but our only means of defence."
"Of course, I have considered that," Trask said, his agitation increasing with each question. "But the undeniable truth is that if the rock was harmful to the alien forces, they would *not* have brought it to Earth."
"I think sending all of the rock into space is a flawed plan," the man persisted. "Dangerously flawed."
"You think we should leave some here?" Trask demanded sarcastically. "So the aliens can recover it and continue with their plans of destruction?"
"If he's so super-powered by the rock, why isn't he escaping now?"
"Because my superior strategy had already planned for such an eventuality." Trask lifted the remote control, still wrapped in his clenched fist. "I hold the lives of those traitors - his allies - in my hand."
"If that rock is instrumental in powering the alien, why did you bring him here?" another voice asked. "Where are all the 'others' you talk about? Why risk luring them here? Why not just expel the rock into space without all this fanfare?"
"Because eliminating the threat is not enough," Trask screeched. "We have to *know* that we have overcome them. We *cannot* kill each alien individually. We don't know how many of them live amongst us. And obviously, they are disguised in human bodies. If we kill some, we will never know if others remain, biding their time to rise again. We will never be able to rest easily. But we *can* destroy their source of power. And that is what we are going to do."
"What's going to happen to this alien?" someone from behind Clark asked.
"He will be held captive so we can witness his death. He will weaken considerably and die within a short period. Upon his death, we will have the proof that without the power of the green rock, no alien will be able to survive on our planet."
One of the government officials stepped forward. "How do you know there isn't more of this rock?"
Trask sighed as if his patience had sunk to dangerously low levels. "When this alien dies, it will be clear that we have purged our planet from the alien invasion," he said, making no effort to hide his disdain.
"You have had this rock in your possession for a period of many months?" another man in a suit asked.
"We accumulated it gradually, yes."
"Have the aliens been able to access it?"
"Not directly," Trask answered. "And that is what has stalled their final conquest. Because the rock was still on Earth, they were powered to the degree that allows them superior speed and strength, but being unable to access it directly has stopped them attaining the powers required for a whole-world takeover."
"How do you know that even the vastness of space will be sufficient to cut off their supply?"
"Do you have any better ideas for making it inaccessible?" Trask sneered.
The official backed away.
"While the green rock remains on Earth, we live with the threat of a supremely powered army of aliens who will choose to murder our people and claim this planet as our own," Trask said. "The green rock is indestructible - *clearly* our only hope is to banish it beyond their reach."
The original voice began again. "This is ludicrous, Trask. And dangerous. And farcical. Everyone in this room can see that the presence of the green rock severely traumatises the alien. Open that box again, and bring the rock closer to -"
A volley of gunfire flooded the room. The dissenter fell to the floor, and a pool of blood slowly leaked from the wound in his head.
Ignoring the gasps of horror that echoed through his gathered audience, Trask lifted his clenched fist in victory. "People of Earth," he proclaimed, looking straight into the camera. "The specifically modified, unmanned spacecraft awaits us. All of the powers of the US military will be used to ensure that this deadly green rock is safely banished to outer space - never again to power the alien invasion of our planet."
Trask eyed the room, daring anyone to challenge him.
On either side of him stood two soldiers - their weapons poised and pointed into the crowd.
No one moved.
They wheeled away the box containing the green rock. Trask and his two soldiers followed.
Three other soldiers came to Clark and roughly hauled him to his feet. They dragged him out of the room, along a short corridor, and to a small, empty cell devoid of windows. Clark slumped against the wall as he heard the door close and a series of locks clatter into place.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on simply breathing. Each breath was still potent with suffering; it scorched his lungs and seared his body.
He wanted Lois. His yearning for her reared strong and unrelenting. But she was half a world away. And, for now, he had no way to get to her.
He thought about how he had walked along the river with her. He imagined standing next to her, his arms encircling her. He could smell her perfume. He could feel the light touch of her lips on his cheek.
He drifted between reality and the dream world where he was with Lois. Only the thought of her caused the pain to recede. The stronger the image of her, the further away he could push the pain.
He steeled his mind to concentrate on her and her alone, and slowly, his body began to heal.
||_||
Lois paced the length of her small living room. She had heard nothing from Clark for over three hours. She had rung his mobile phone, hoping to get an update of the time of his flight, but he hadn't answered. At first, she had taken that as positive news - he was probably already on the plane and heading home.
She continued trying to call him - initially, at intervals of twenty minutes, then fifteen, and then ten. Still, he didn't answer. The flight from Adelaide took about an hour. What could possibly have kept him out of contact for three hours?
Finally, in desperation she had called Tullamarine Airport and learnt that all flights out of Adelaide had been delayed following a security threat. They would give her no details other than to voice the hope that the airport would be operating normally as soon as possible.
Lois didn't know the name of the hotel where Clark had stayed the night before, and it was too late to ring Browny and ask. She called Dan's home number, but it went to his voicemail.
She paced the floor, regularly redialling Clark's mobile as anxiety twisted through her knotted stomach.
Where was he?
What had happened?
Why hadn't he called her?
Was it possible he had fallen asleep at the airport and slept through all of her calls?
Maybe ... but she didn't think so.
Her phone shrilled, and Lois jumped. She snatched it to her ear. "Yes?"
"Hi, Lois; it's Narelle."
Lois registered the voice of Gazza's wife, and with it came a white-hot sea of dread. What had happened to them? "Narelle?" she breathed.
"Gazza just rang to tell me they've heard there will be no flights out of Adelaide tonight," Narelle said. "They've gone back to the motel and will try to get the first available flight home tomorrow."
Lois breathed deeply as the worst of her fears subsided. "Th ... thanks, Narelle," she said. "Did you get the name or number of the motel?"
"No. I always contact Gary on his mobile."
"OK."
"I thought it was likely that Clark would call you and let you know," Narelle said. "But just in case he doesn't ... I didn't want you worrying."
"Thanks, Narelle."
"They'll be home tomorrow," Narelle said brightly.
"Yeah," Lois agreed, trying to match Narelle's tone. "Thanks for letting me know."
Narelle hesitated. "Did you hear about Dan?"
"No," Lois said. "What about Dan?"
"There was a hostage situation at the Daily Planet newspaper."
Lois felt the shock splinter through her already-tense muscles. "What happened? Is Dan all right?'
"Yeah, he's fine. They're saying Superman turned up, and I think the police had the building surrounded, and most of the hostages were released. I only caught the tail-end of the report, but I saw Dan coming out of the space facility where they'd been held."
"Are you sure he's OK?"
"Yeah. He had a bit of blood on his face, but he was walking OK. They said the hostages were being taken to hospital to get checked out."
"OK. Thanks. Thanks for ringing."
"Good night, Lois."
Lois slowly replaced the phone. Within her, competing emotions struggled for supremacy - disappointment, relief and ... confusion. Why hadn't Clark answered her calls?
Why hadn't *he* called her once he'd realised that he couldn't get home tonight?
She turned on the television and waited for the late night news bulletin.
The headline story was the disruption to flights out of Adelaide. They said nothing that Lois didn't already know.
Next, they moved to the situation in Metropolis. The anchor crossed to a male reporter who was standing outside a large building with a huge globe suspended above its front entrance.
"Thanks, Robert," he began. "As already reported, the mastermind behind this situation was Jason Trask. Our sources suggest that Trask has headed a secret government taskforce since the initial appearance of Superman two years ago. His assignment was to investigate Superman and determine if he posed any threat to humanity. I can confirm that two men who were originally a part of the taskforce have died in suspicious circumstances, and three others have resigned in recent months. They are unwilling to speak to us about their reasons, but we believe they have been assisting the police with information regarding Trask and what he is likely to do."
"Do we know why Trask was allowed to continue in his position despite those around him having doubts about him?"
"Jason Trask is a very persuasive man with a long and successful career in various aspects of homeland safety. As documented in the Daily Planet following the subway tragedy, he became convinced of an imminent alien invasion. According to our source - who cannot be named - the government was hesitant to ignore his claims because, had he been correct, the ramifications of removing him from his position could have been disastrous."
"What is the situation now? We've seen footage of the hostages being released from the EPRAD centre."
"Yes, Robert. Most of the Daily Planet hostages were released twenty minutes ago. The exception is Mayson Drake. You will recall that she is the Daily Planet reporter who broke the story of Trask's allegations following the train tragedy."
"Is she working with Trask?"
"We believe that the released hostages have told the police that Trask was particularly incensed by what he saw as her defection from his beliefs."
"Have you been able to speak with any of the former hostages?"
"No - but there is speculation that they were able to confirm that Superman did arrive."
"Why didn't Superman simply overthrow Trask? Was it because Trask had so many armed soldiers that even super-powers couldn't overcome them?"
"No. Unconfirmed reports suggest that Trask threatened to gas the hostages if Superman didn't comply with his demands."
There was silence following this information, as if the true depravity of Trask was dawning on the anchor. Finally, he spoke. "Do we know anything else regarding the rocket that was launched earlier?"
"No. The preparations were kept secret from even the highest-ranking EPRAD authorities. Again, it is believed that it was Trask who authorised the launch."
"There is speculation that Superman was in the rocket ... is there anything to support that theory?"
"Nothing at all ... although Superman's current whereabouts are unknown. The SWAT team has surrounded the EPRAD building, but has been unable to establish contact with anyone inside."
"It is frightening that one man could orchestrate something as significant as a space launch."
"It must be remembered that Trask has a long history of work in covert operations. He has fostered networks and contacts with people who have been directed to do as he ordered."
"Thanks for your report," the anchor said. "We will keep in touch."
The scene changed back to the newsroom, and they switched to a political analyst to discuss authority structures and accountability in government. Less than a sentence in, the anchor interrupted, saying, "There is breaking news on the situation in Metropolis. We will return to our reporter there."
The reporter again filled the television screen. "In news just in, pictures have been posted on the Internet that seem to show Superman either dead or unconscious."
Onto the screen came a series of pictures. In the first, Superman was lying on the floor, clenching his chest, his face contorted with agony.
Lois swallowed down her tears as she looked at the magnificent man reduced to such suffering. As the reporter continued his conjecture on the legitimacy of the pictures, three other photographs splashed onto the screen - each with Superman in slightly different positions, all clearly displaying his anguish.
Lois leapt to the television and turned it off. She really couldn't look anymore.
Much as she lamented Superman's demise, there was nothing she could do to help him.
And Clark was still missing.
Lois absently prepared for bed. As she slipped into the cold sheets, the memory of Claude prowled around the dark corners of her mind. Clark was different, she insisted. He was. He would not do what Claude had done to her. Clark wouldn't do that. He had promised her.
But all her assurances couldn't stop a single tear from escaping and running down her cheek. She used her Hawk-embossed pillowcase to wipe it away.
She wanted Clark.
She wanted him so much.
She had been counting down the hours until she would see him again. What had initially been disappointment at the delay was now trepidation warped with fear. Where was he?
The future she had begun to allow herself to believe in ... maybe that was - had always been - nothing more than a pipe dream.
If Clark cared about her, why hadn't he found a way to contact her?
Lois closed her eyes, knowing there was simply no answer to that.
||_||
Clark groaned as he attempted to sit up. He was still weak. His body ached. He needed to get out of this tenebrous room. He needed the sun.
But despite the lack of light, he could feel the rudiments of his strength returning.
And with each small increment in his strength, his desire to get to Lois increased exponentially. He wasn't sure how much time had passed as he had lay on the floor of his prison, but by now, she would be worried. She had probably tried to call him.
He had to get to Lois.
Clark rolled onto his knees and, using the wall to steady himself, shakily stood.
He took a deep breath and noted with satisfaction that breathing was no longer torturous. He allowed himself a few moments of consolidation and then surveyed his prison.
There were four walls, broken only by a door. Clark invoked his x-ray vision and saw two armed soldiers guarding his tiny room.
He turned sideways - in the next room was Mayson Drake - bound and gagged.
He continued rotating. The far side was an external wall.
Clark took a gargantuan breath and summoned every ounce of strength from his devastated body. He burst through the internal wall, crouched low, and swept Mayson into his arms. She was heavier than he had expected. He heard the key turn in the lock of her door. "Hold on to me," he muttered.
He tucked her knees into her chest and bent over her in protection. Then he charged the outer wall, leading with his shoulder. Once through, he flexed his knees and leapt upward into the Metropolis sky.
"You can stretch out now," he said to Mayson.
Her legs slowly unfolded from her chest, and she looked up at him with eyes glinting with fear ... or perhaps anger.
Clark reached behind her head and loosened the gag from her mouth. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Where are you taking me?"
Clark stifled his sigh. He knew that tone. Mayson wasn't happy. "Where do you want to go?" he asked.
"Back to EPRAD, of course," she spat. "I need to get the story."
Clark ignored her demand. "I can take you to the hospital. You need to get checked by a doctor."
"Take me back to EPRAD," she said.
"It's too dangerous," Clark said. "Trask stops at nothing."
"Dangerous?" she scoffed. "Nothing's too dangerous for you."
Not for anything was Clark going to inform her that he was a long way from invulnerability. His strength was draining quickly; her weight dragged heavily on his arms. He turned in the direction of the Metropolis General hospital. Once there, he dropped next to the front door and lowered Mayson to her feet. He reached behind her and released her wrists.
"So that's it?" she sneered. "You're just going to leave me here?"
Clark hesitated. Mayson didn't seem to realise that until Trask was captured, she would continue to be in danger. However, there was little Clark could do to ensure her safety. He knew he didn't have the strength to take her anywhere else. Nor did he have the power to protect anyone should the need arise. Then Clark heard a voice - Perry's voice. He looked through the glass of the entrance doors and saw his editor striding towards him.
"She's my reporter," Perry said to the police officer who was scuttling along beside him. "And I don't care who's in charge, we are going to get her out of there, and we are going to get her out of there now."
Behind Perry, Clark saw Jimmy Olsen and Dan Scardino.
Clark shot into the air.
He wanted just one thing. One thing only.
He had to get back to Lois.
His weakened body struggled to keep him airborne, but he resolutely gained height and broke through the clouds. The sun was low in the sky, but he was flying towards it ... and, more importantly, he was flying towards Lois.
He didn't know if the effects of the sun would be enough to provide the restoration and power he would need to get to Lois.
But the thought of her would.
Whatever it cost him in pain or exhaustion, he was going to get to Lois.
That thought drove him forward as he crossed the American continent at a speed more characteristic of an airplane than a superhero.
Lois.
He had to get to Lois.
||_||
Lois had barely slept. She regularly checked her mobile - there were no messages and no calls. At six o'clock, she called Clark's phone. Still, there was no answer.
Feeling weary and defeated, she went into her lounge room and switched on the television. The early morning news bulletin covered the story of the suspected security breach that had closed down the Adelaide airport the night before. The problem had been satisfactorily resolved, and flights had already resumed.
They then moved to the story in Metropolis. There was an interview with Mayson Drake. She claimed Superman had broken into the room where she was a prisoner and had flown her to the hospital.
She pointedly ignored the suggestion that her former opposition to him now seemed misplaced.
"If you'd given him half a chance," Lois muttered bitterly, "Neither of you would have been in this mess."
But if Mayson was to be believed, Superman was alive and free - and that gave Lois a small spark of optimism in a world dark with fear and uncertainty. She called Clark again - his mobile and his home - and still there was no answer.
Where was he?
And at what point did she inform the police that he was missing?
In desperation, she tried Gazza's mobile - clinging to the vain hope that Clark's phone had died or its battery was flat ... although that couldn't explain why he hadn't called her on a public phone or from the motel. A metallic female voice answered, informing her that the number she had called was currently not available.
Gazza was probably on a plane coming home.
But was Clark with him?
As Lois showered and dressed, she decided to check Clark's unit. There was no logical reason why he would be there, but Lois was ready to grasp at any possibility.
Once there, she banged on the door as loud as she dared without risking the ire of still-sleeping neighbours. Not unexpectedly, she got no response.
She arrived at the Herald Sun office early, but Browny was already in his office. Instead of screaming for her, he left his office and came to her desk. "Have you heard from Rubber?" he asked without preamble.
"No," Lois said. "I know their flight was delayed last night, but the Adelaide airport is open again."
Browny nodded. Something in his face poured cold fear through Lois. "What have you heard?" she gasped.
"Banjo rang," Browny said in a sombre voice. "Clark left the airport earlier than them last night. He said he was going back to the motel."
"But?" Lois said, her voice barely able to squeeze past the tightness of her throat.
"But this morning they couldn't find him," Browny said. "The motel management said he never went back there."
Lois's nebulous fears sharpened to chilling clarity.
"Gazza and Banjo are on the flight now, but last I heard, they hadn't seen Rubber," Browny said. "I wondered if he had called you."
Lois shook her head, trying desperately to keep from descending into a cesspit of mindless panic. "Should we inform the police?"
Browny smiled, but Lois noticed that the anxiety didn't leave his eyes. "Rubber probably went back to the wrong motel," he said. "He's never been to Adelaide before. And maybe he couldn't find the airport."
Lois nodded, but she knew they were groping at unlikely possibilities. It wasn't particularly challenging to get in a taxi and ask for the airport. "Do you think something has happened to him?" she asked in a small, frightened voice.
Browny gave a hollow laugh. "'Course not, Flinders. He'll be right. He's probably just got himself lost."
"He's not answering his mobile."
"So, his mobile got lost too." Browny put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. "It's too early to worry yet," he said. "I'm sure he'll walk in here soon looking sheepish 'cause he wasn't able to navigate the wilds of the Australian bush."
"He isn't in the bush. He's in Adelaide."
Browny smiled again, though this smile held no more credibility than his first one. "Is there a difference?" he asked.
Lois couldn't even muster an answering smile. "Browny," she said. "I'm going to look for him. I'm useless here. There's no way I can write about football until I know that Clark is OK."
"Flinders," Browny said evenly, "He's probably in Adelaide. What's the point of looking for him here?"
Lois shrugged. "I've already called every hospital in Adelaide, and he's not there ... and I can't sit here - it's driving me crazy."
"Do you have his parents' number?" Browny asked.
"No."
"It should be on his employment form, but you know me, hopeless at detail. I sent off his insurance papers and didn't bother about the rest."
"Have you called the Daily Planet?"
"No ... I reckon they have enough problems of their own right now," Browny said. "Though at least that whacko Trask is dead."
"Dead?"
"Yeah - he topped himself. Seems he couldn't face the ignominy of Superman escaping. When the police charged into the space facility, they found some of the soldiers shot and some alive but tied up. Trask was in a room - locked from the inside - hanging from the ceiling."
Lois pushed away the gruesome image that invaded her mind and kindled a momentary hope that things would be better for Superman now, but neither could overcome her fear for Clark.
"You can go," Browny said. "If I hear anything, I'll ring you."
Lois stood with a sigh. "Thanks, Browny."
She walked out of the office and stopped. Where should she go? Browny was right. There was absolutely no reason to suspect that Clark would be in Melbourne. If something had happened to him, he would be in Adelaide.
Had he heard that his friends had been taken hostage?
Suddenly, a thought catapulted through her brain. There had been the train crash in Metropolis ... and Clark had abruptly left her unit.
There had been the bomb threat in Metropolis ... and Clark had insisted she leave his unit.
Now, there was a hostage situation in Metropolis ... and Clark had disappeared.
Coincidence?
Lois shook her head, trying to force the loose ends to connect.
What could possibly mean that Clark had to be alone every time something dire happened in Metropolis?
Could he be ... what?
Her mind buzzed with possibilities. What if ... what if he were an undercover cop? What if he had to coordinate? ... Or oversee? ... Or authorise ... what?
That was absurd.
Why would they send an undercover cop to *Melbourne*? And if they had, why would he need to be alone every time something major happened in Metropolis?
Could he be a spy?
Again ... why Melbourne?
And yet ... Clark coming to Melbourne had been a last-minute arrangement. Someone else was supposed to swap with Dan.
Even so, it made no sense.
But Clark's disappearance made no sense either.
Yet ... somehow, it did.
She knew he was hiding something.
She'd known almost from the start.
She had assumed it was none of her business.
But now ...
Now ... she needed to get into Clark's unit. Perhaps he had left a note. Or perhaps there would be something there to give her a clue to his whereabouts. At home, she still had the key Dan had given her months ago. She turned and hurried to Flinders St Station.
If she could find nothing else in Clark's unit ... perhaps she would be able to find the number to call his parents. She dreaded having to tell them that their son was missing, but perhaps they would know something about where he could be.
She stepped onto the train and willed it to hurry to Richmond.
Clark *had* to be somewhere, and she wasn't going to rest until she found him.
||_||
Completely exhausted and barely able to stand, Clark landed behind the shrubs at the end of Lois's driveway.
He had made it.
There were many times when he had thought it was beyond his strength. Only the thought of Lois had kept him going. Thankfully, he had been able to draw power from the sun as he flew. Even so, the effects of the exposure to the green rock had made flying a precarious business.
He had spun out of the suit and into his clothes as he had crossed from being above the ocean to above the land of Australia. If he did lose power - or consciousness - and drop, he figured it would be better for Clark Kent to be found in the wilds of Australia than Superman.
He stepped unsteadily from the shrubs and tried to focus on Lois's door. It was thirty yards away - forty steps. He could do it.
He stepped forward; his vision blurred and he felt his knees give way. He stumbled forward and regained his balance.
He could do it.
He had to get to Lois.
He took another three steps. Then another three. He blocked out everything else. There was just Lois's door ... and the promise of Lois.
He was so close.
He had fought his way across mile after mile after mile to get to her. He wasn't going to be denied now.
Then he heard a voice.
"Clarkie."
He forced his vision to focus on the blurry form that was approaching him.
"Clarkie," she said. "You've finally realised that you want what only Ezzie can give you. Come with me, Snookums."
Esmeralda took a firm grip on his arm, and Clark tried to lurch away. He had no strength left to protest. She pulled him forward ... towards her unit.
Clark lifted his free hand to the arm that had been captured by Esmeralda and managed to undo his watchband. As she shuffled him past Lois's door, he let his arm swing free and heard his watch clatter onto the concrete.
