My legs were getting cramped from crouching behind the hay. I debated heading back into the house anyway, to think of a plan, but moving from my spot might just give me away. Besides, what could I get from the house that would help me? Jonathan Kent’s hunting rifle? Yeah, right. I was intimidated as it was by just Martha’s kitchen knives. I had no way of defending us…. Wait. A kitchen knife could come in handy. If I were caught, I could possibly use it to cut through the ropes. Or if Trask left the barn, I could free Clark. Why hadn’t I thought of that sooner?
I stepped just outside the barn, judging the distance to the house. It seemed far away, now that I had the fear of Trask spotting me. However, he seemed preoccupied with intimidating Clark for the moment. It was now or never.
I tripped over Clark’s flashlight with a dull thud, kicking snow over it so it was buried in the drifts around it.
“What was that?” Trask said suddenly.
“Uh, the wind?” I heard Clark suggest.
I got to my feet and clamored towards the house, fearful that Trask had seen me. The rolling pin was still awkwardly sitting inside my jacket, and only the fear of it being used against me later kept me from discarding its weight in the snow. I didn’t turn back until I reached the door, and sure enough, Trask was there, coming after me.
I slammed the back door shut, and threw the lock, knowing that it would only buy me a bit of time. He could smash the glass and reach in—
I tried not to think about it as I headed to the kitchen drawers, looking for a weapon. Where before I had hesitated against selecting cutlery, I was now searching for the biggest knife I could find. It was mostly dark inside, as only the distant fire in the living room was giving off any light. However, I was glad I had helped with dishes the other night so I had an idea of where to look.
Inevitably, I heard banging on the back door. I took out the rolling pin and grabbed two knives. One butter knife I slipped into my boot, and the other, a larger chopping knife, I kept close to my person. Perhaps I could hole myself up in here for a while… Banging on the door wasn’t getting him anywhere, as I certainly wasn’t going to let him in.
The noise stopped for a second, and I wondered if he had given up, or gone to the front door. I hastily ran across the house to the front, and locked it. Just as I reached it, I heard a shot ring out from the kitchen. He had shot the lock with a gun!
I dove up the stairs, trying to keep my footsteps as silent as possible.
“Miss Lane?” he called, heading into the living room. “I know you’re in here.”
I made it to Clark’s room. I shut the door and grabbed a chair to put against the handle. Like a frightened child, I got under the covers, trying to think what to do. We had no electricity, no phone service, and a maniac was coming after me. What do people do in these situations – besides call for Superman?
Die! a terrified voice inside my head screamed. But no, I wouldn’t give in to panic. Trask wanted Superman. He wouldn’t kill Clark or me until he got what he wanted, right? I didn’t let myself dwell on the thought that he really only needed one of us to lure Superman…
How were we to get Superman way out here, anyway? Couldn’t Trask have stalked us in Metropolis, where Superman was easily found?
I heard boots on the stairs, and I glanced over at my makeshift blockade. The chair would stall him, but it wouldn’t keep him out forever. I longed to call out for Superman, even if we were in backwater Smallville. I also wondered what had happened to my partner. Had Clark managed to get free from Trask's ties?
I simultaneously worried and hoped that he was on Trask’s heels to back me up. Another shot rang out, as Trask shot through Clark’s door. He easily pushed through the chair blockade, and I looked up at him from Clark’s bed, my hands suddenly in the air in surrender.
“What do you want, Trask?” I asked, though of course I already knew.
“Superman. And you will bring him here, one way or another.”
He shoved me to my feet, the larger knife clanging noisily to the floor. He gave me a disgusted look, then kicked it under the bed. Trask made me walk in front of him, the gun lodged in my back between my shoulder blades. It was dark in the house, and I wasn’t sure if that made things better or worse. Maybe I could find my moment to slip out of his grasp… but I had to choose it carefully.
“What have you done with Clark?” I demanded.
“He’s waiting for our hero in blue to appear in the barn,” Trask said from behind me, in a voice that gave me chills of fear. “Let’s go and see if he’s showed up yet, shall we?”
I held onto the railing as we walked down the stairs, every second calculating when I could make a move. But the steel of the gun in my back was making it hard to concentrate. I felt tears burning in the back of my eyes as we went past the living room. What a dolt I had been to worry about getting too close to Clark. You’d think I would have learned by now not to rule out the possibility of crazy psychopaths getting in the way of me spending too much time alone with my partner!
“Why are you doing this, Trask? Why here? Why not chase down Superman in Metropolis?”
“Because here… I may have just found something to stop Superman once and for all.”
I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. I stumbled out onto the back porch, and Trask grabbed my arm to keep me walking. “Don’t try any false moves, Lane. I may want to keep you alive as bait for Superman, but I am not averse to injuring you to keep you from running, got it?”
I nodded, stark terror cutting through me.
As we neared the barn, I could see an odd green glow coming from the barn. “What is that?” I asked, fearful of its eerie cast on the freshly fallen snow.
“A present in case Superman shows up.”
As we rounded the barn, I could see the bright green glow of a meteor rock, sitting a few feet away from Clark. Clark himself was slumped over in his chair, looking like he was asleep or worse…
“Clark!” I cried out, turning to Trask. “What have you done to him? He hasn’t been feeling well these past few days, and this cold can’t be good for him. Have you no trace of humanity in you?”
Trask moved over to the strange green rock and set it back in its case, all the while keeping a gun trained on me.
He sat me down roughly in a chair behind Clark, though Clark still didn’t seem to have awakened. Trask tied my hands behind my back, and I could just feel the tips of Clark’s fingers. I didn’t know what Trask expected to do with us, or how he thought Superman would find us out here on the Kent farm.
“Clark?” I called over my shoulder, needing to hear his voice, to hear that he was okay.
But he just groaned.
“He’s obviously sick, Trask! He needs to be in bed! He may need the hospital for all you care!” I shouted, exaggerating my partner’s condition to match the intensity of my fear.
Would Trask just have us sit out here in this freezing barn until we somehow got a hold of Superman? The man was a lunatic!
“No… hospitals,” I thought I heard Clark murmur behind me.
“There, you see? He doesn’t need a hospital, he’s just not feeling very well,” said Trask, his hand on that lead box that held the strange green rock. “Just call for Superman, and all of this will be over,” he instructed.
I glanced fearfully at the box, afraid of what that rock could do to Superman. Trask may be a lunatic, but he seemed to be one who had thought out all of his moves.
“You can’t just keep us holed up here forever, Trask,” I spat defiantly. “It’s madness! The storm hasn’t even let up and—“
Trask marched over to me, leaning in, his breath a heavy stench of cigarettes and aftershave. “You’ve harbored the alien. I should have you tried for treason! You’ve lauded him as a hero in the press, all the while he has been planning our demise!”
“No…” Clark groaned behind me.
“It’s not true! Superman stands for everything you don’t, Trask! Everything that’s good in the world! It’s just too bad you can’t understand that!” I cried, my vehemence coming out stronger because I was so afraid. “And Clark needs to go inside! He’ll freeze to death out here!”
“I never knew you cared for your partner so much, Miss Lane,” Trask said snidely. “I thought you had your sights set on Superman.”
“Clark’s a good person! And any normal person would see he needs care!” I cried. I tried glancing over my shoulder at Clark, but couldn’t really see him. “How are you holding up?” I asked quietly.
“Just a… bad headache.”
Trask crossed his arms, looking down at me with a smug grin. “Look, just hand over Superman and I’ll let you two go. It’s that simple. So… how do you get in touch with him?”
“Well… I usually just…. call,” I said a bit at a loss.
“Like on the phone? You can call him?” Trask seemed intrigued by this possibility.
“No, like this --- help, Superman!” I cried at the top of my lungs. I felt Clark flinch behind me, and I felt a little bad, knowing how when you have a headache, a top-notch scream is not what you want to hear. “Sorry, Clark,” I whispered over my shoulder, and then glanced back at Trask. “But you see… it is to no avail. Certainly not in backwater Smallville. Trask, you are barking up the wrong tree.”
“No, I’m barking up the right tree… so if you can’t get Superman, perhaps your partner has a way? He does seem to get about as many Superman exclusives as you do… and I’ve yet to hear a story about Clark Kent yelling for the Man of Steel to come rescue him,” Trask said, a note of inquisitiveness in his voice.
“It doesn’t matter how I know him. Superman… can’t show up here now anyway,” Clark said sadly. I felt his pain, knowing how far away we were from Metropolis. Trask was insane. There was no way Superman would find us all the way out here.
“You can’t hold us here indefinitely. We’ve told you – it’s impossible to reach Superman,” I said, hoping to appeal to some logic in Trask.
He paced around us, shaking his head. “No, no… I’ve done my research… I know that no matter where you two are, Superman can find you. I believe he can find you even out here.”
“Then why didn’t he show up when I yelled for him?”I asked boldly.
“Maybe he knows what I have for him… “ Trask said, glancing at the box with the strange meteor rock. “Or maybe… you aren’t in enough danger…”
Trask suddenly took his gun and aimed it at my chest. “How about yelling for Superman now, Miss Lane?” he smirked malevolently.
“Superman,” I whispered, too terrified to draw breath.
Clark moved and instantly seemed to come alive again. “Trask, no! You—you don’t know what you’re doing!”
“I’m getting that alien creature to appear. I know exactly what I am doing,” he said, and I heard the click of the hammer as he readied to shoot. I scrunched my eyes shut, wishing I were anywhere but there. Even reading pesticide reports with Clark was better than this!
“No—you—can’t! I mean—I ---“ Clark was twisting in his chair, and I felt his head clunk against mine as he struggled. “Superman won’t come from Metropolis… and you’re right to notice he always appears when we’re around, and always rescues Lois…” his voice took on a melancholic tinge to it, and I wondered what he was getting at. “And he always will… no matter what the cost,” he muttered. Clark paused and then let out a heavy sigh. “Trask,
I am Superman.”
I stifled a laugh, but then immediately sobered, still staring down the barrel of a gun. “Clark! Don’t be ridiculous!”
But there had been an urgency, a seriousness to his voice that made me very nervous. Surely Clark was kidding, just trying to buy us time, right? He couldn’t possibly be Superman… he would have told me!
Would he, Lois? Asked an insidious voice in the back of my brain. What reason would he have had to tell me? I had fallen all over Superman, and Clark – well, I mean I liked him. Most of the time. But still – it just couldn’t be true!
I was pulled out of my thoughts when suddenly Trask swung the gun to take aim at Clark.
“If you are Superman, then you have no need to fear bullets, do you, Kent?” Trask asked smoothly.
“No, Trask, don’t!” Clark shouted, but it was too late.
I heard a shot ring out, and tried to look over my shoulder to see what had happened. I felt Clark slouch, and cold fear shot through me as I worried that Trask had killed him!
“Clark!” I cried frantically.
“Don’t worry, he’ll live. But he proved he was bluffing,” Trask answered calmly.
“Clark! Answer me! What happened?” I cried hysterically, my mind in a whirlwind. Did Clark just take a bullet for me? Was he dead? Why would he be so stupid as to say he was Superman?! Why, of all the stupid, idiotic things to do!
“Please, you have to let me help him,” I cried, trying harder than ever to loosen the bonds around my wrists.
“Loi….s,” I heard Clark say behind me, and I nearly broke my neck trying to turn to see him.
“Clark? What happened? What did he do?”
“My… arm… Don’t worry… it... will all be… okay,” he got out in slurs.
“You maniac!” I screamed defiantly at Trask. “Look what you’ve done! You’ve shot an innocent man! Some protector of humanity you are!” I spat angrily.
“It was necessary to prove he was lying,” Trask suddenly and unexpectedly cut my ropes. “We’ll go into the house, and you can fix him up. But try anything else—and neither of you will be so lucky. I know you can reach Superman, and I’m not leaving this farm until I get him.”
I turned to Clark, as Trask cut his bonds, a gun still trained on both of us. Clark’s forehead was warm and his eyes seemed to be having difficulty focusing. He was feverish. No wonder he had become so delusional as to say that he was Superman! “Clark? Clark, look at me?” I said, taking hold of both sides of his head to face me. “What kind of madness was that, you crazy fool?” I admonished, though there was little bite to my words, so choked was I with tears that he had gone so far as to take a bullet for me. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
I struggled to get Clark to his feet, and he wasn’t able to do much of the work. As we slowly made our way to the house, I was disheartened by the clear track of blood he was leaving in the snow. How much blood had he lost already? What if he didn’t make it?
“Clark? Listen to me. You’re going to be fine, you hear? Just keep focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, nice and steady,” I went on, encouraging him with each little step. Eventually I got him to a seat in the kitchen. It was still quite dark, though the sun was starting to rise, just barely.
Clark nodded towards a cupboard. “Mom keeps extra… towels in there. And there might be some candles, too.”
I glanced at Trask, wondering if he’d let me move to the cupboard, and then he nodded. “But I’m keeping an eye on you, Miss Lane. Don’t tempt me to use another bullet,” he warned, his gun trained on me.
I opened the cupboard and immediately saw the towels. There were bandages and rubbing alcohol as well. I didn’t see any candles, but my hands bumped into something else of interest… a small vegetable peeler. It wasn’t a knife, but it might do in a pinch. I slipped it into my pants pocket, hidden from view behind the cabinet door, before I shut it.
I came over to Clark, who had a puddle of blood just below his elbow. I tried not to think of the blood, but tossed a towel on the ground to absorb it as I tended to his arm. I don’t know when he had lost his jacket, but he was only wearing a plaid shirt and a t-shirt underneath.
“Think you can get this over shirt off?” I asked gently, struck by how pale and weak he seemed. I couldn’t recall a time when Clark had been sick or even really tired. He always seemed fresh and full of energy. It angered me deeply that not only had Trask struck out at Clark when he was already not feeling very well, but that he had taken away that light in his eyes when he looked at me, which now was gone. Clark looked so… helpless, and lost, and seeing that look in my partner put more fear in my soul than anything else that had happened to us tonight so far.
Clark nodded assent as I lifted him a little to take off the shirt. I could see the injury clearly now; the bullet had grazed his bicep, but wasn’t – thank God—lodged inside it. “What were you thinking, provoking him like that?” I whispered fiercely, my hands suddenly shaking as I realized how serious a situation we were in.
He was quiet, but then with his other hand, he lifted my chin to look in my eyes. “Lois… I—I’d do anything for you,” he said simply, his eyes warm with emotion. Suddenly, those fears of intimacy with Clark came rushing back, distraught by how his words snuck so easily into my heart and warmed it. Traitorous tears crept back into my eyes, and I swiped at them with a sleeve.
“Clark…” I started, but had no idea what I wanted to say. There was such depth of emotion in his eyes, such hurt even, and I couldn’t make sense of it at all.
“Are you almost finished?” Trask said harshly, standing over us.
“We’ll get through this, partner,” I whispered, as I finished tying the bandage around his arm. I had a little experience with field dressing when I had been an imbedded journalist for a very short time in my early days at the Planet. But I quickly had realized that war zones were not my thing, and that I preferred your everyday city villains to the confounding dangers of war.
Clark gave me a weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless, and it gave me courage as I turned to face our captor.
Trask suddenly looked nervous and he ran his fingers through his hair, the gun still in his hand. “I left it in the barn,” he muttered, frustrated. “Damn it!”
“Um, what?” I asked, finding myself amused despite the situation by his self-berating.
“The meteor rock!” he answered as if I were stupid. “We have to go back to the barn to get it.”
“You could always just leave us here,” I said innocently.
Trask trained the gun back on Clark and kicked out a kitchen chair. “Kent, you sit here.” Clark, apparently still not doing very well, did as Trask asked.
He kicked another chair out and moved it back to back with Clark’s. “Lane, here.”
I obliged him, hearing my heart hammer in my ears as I hoped he didn’t think to check my person and discover my peeler... or my butter knife. I gave a little fight at being tied up, enough for him to know I wasn’t happy about it and to hopefully put away any suspicions that I might have a plan of escape.
He tied Clark and me back to back, our ropes around our wrists, but not tied together. When he was satisfied, he headed out the back door. As soon as it shut, I turned as best I could towards Clark.
“Clark? I have a peeler in my pocket. I can’t reach it. Can you?”
I shifted in my chair, grateful that the chairs weren’t tied together, so that my hip was closer to Clark’s tied hands. “Can you reach me?”
I kept trying to glance out the window, knowing we only had a few minutes at best until Trask returned. Clark still seemed a little weak, but he understood this could be our only chance.
I felt him grab onto my chair, and I tried to angle my hip to be in a better position for him to reach into my pocket. He accidentally touched my butt and let out a quick, “Sorry.”
“You can apologize later, Clark. Just get the peeler,” I said, feeling his fingers get inside my pocket. A few seconds later I heard, “Got it!” and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I tried to hop my chair back around to where Trask had left us. I could see his shadow on the porch, knowing we only had seconds to appear as if nothing had gone on in his absence.
“It will be okay, Lois,” Clark whispered to me, just before Trask opened the door. I felt oddly reassured by his statement, knowing that like Superman, Clark was always there for me. I knew he wouldn’t give up on me any more than I’d give up on him.
Trask set the heavy box on the kitchen table, giving it a reverent pat. “Superman doesn’t have a chance as long as I have this… It puts you two in quite a dilemma. Give up Superman, or risk your lives to save him. One way or another, I will get what I want.”
“Superman obviously isn’t in Smallville,” I reiterated, though I could see it didn’t matter to Trask. His eyes seemed cold, but also distracted and off-kilter. His obsession was pushing him into the boundaries of madness, and logic wasn’t going to work with him.
“But you are. And I know that whenever Lois Lane is in trouble, Superman always finds a way to rescue you. I will just bide my time… I’ve already delivered a message to the Daily Planet. Either Superman shows in the next twenty-four hours, or their favorite reporters will be taken into government custody indefinitely.”
“You can’t do that,” I said. “It’s illegal. You have no legal reason to hold us hostage.”
Trask scoffed. “Aiding and abetting an enemy of the State? I’d say that’s reason enough…”
“Superman isn’t an enemy of the State, Trask. You just made that up,” Clark clarified.
I suddenly felt Clark’s fingers move against mine. I could tell from the movement that he was trying to saw through his ropes. We needed to keep Trask talking so he would be distracted from what Clark was doing.
“Perry White will know you’re bluffing, Trask,” I chimed in. “You were dishonorably discharged from the military after your last escapade going after Superman. Everyone knows that.”
“I still have friends high up who believe in me. Don’t think that I don’t have the ability to make you both disappear.”
His warning sent a chill down my spine. I wasn’t sure what resources he had at his disposal, but I didn’t like the idea of pushing the boundaries to find out what he was capable of.
I heard a slight grunt behind me, and felt Clark's fingers on mine as he started to cut through my ropes. He was free! Maybe we could get out of this without Superman after all. My confidence restored, I started looking around the room for our next move. Should we both try to rush Trask and take the gun from him? No, that could end up getting one or both of us killed... and in this weather, it wasn't like we could call the police to back us up either. I suddenly wished for telepathy so I could know what Clark was thinking.
I felt my wrists free from the ropes, and Clark's warm hands were suddenly holding mine as if to calm me. Or to tell me not to move just yet. Maybe Clark had a plan after all?
Trask still had his eye on us, but was radioing someone about whether or not they had heard a response from the Daily Planet. I couldn't hear the answer, but I suddenly heard a whisper over my shoulder.
"Don't move, Lois," Clark said, a note of warning in his voice. "Do you trust me?"
The question came as a surprise, and before I could think about it my answer came, "Of course I do."
I had never really thought about it before, but I did trust Clark. He was my best friend, and if I had to be tied up and held hostage by a madman, there wasn't anyone better to be tied up with. Well, other than Superman, I suppose. But Clark Kent had proven to me time and again that he was reliable when it counted.
Trask finished his radio conversation and turned his full attention on us. "I hope you're comfortable. Superman is nowhere to be found, and we aren't moving until I know he is coming for you two." He walked back into the kitchen and laid his hand on the lead box with the strange green rock in it. “Yes, the government is very curious about how this rock can stop the alien invasion…” He suddenly lifted the lid to inspect its contents, and I heard Clark grunt behind me.
“No, Trask, don’t—“ he said.
Though I couldn’t see Clark, I saw the reaction in Trask’s eyes to Clark’s comment. They became wide with fear, and perhaps a little curiosity. He lifted the box and came closer to us.
“It’s--- you, isn’t it?” Trask said, a strange mix of loathing and awe in his voice. “You’re him. Superman.”
I felt a chill go up my spine, seeing the look of relish that came over Trask’s features as he brought the rock ever closer. I could hear Clark grunting in agony, and I suddenly put the puzzle together myself.
Clark had admitted it only a short time before.
“Trask, I am Superman.” And yet, neither Trask nor I had believed him. Because he had been vulnerable, made vulnerable by that horrible green rock because Clark – was Superman.
I felt the breath leave my lungs, as my thoughts tried to catch up with my emotions. A cool, rational wave calmed me, as I put the myriad pieces together.
Clark always disappearing at odd moments and with the lamest of excuses.
Never seeing Superman or Clark at the same place.
And the cool distance with which the hero always treated me – the very same cool distance I gave Clark on a daily basis.
Yet Clark had lied to me. Repeatedly, and on purpose!
I temporarily stemmed my anger, deciding instead to direct it at Trask. Clark would get a good talking to, if we got through this, but first, I had to make sure that Trask wouldn’t hurt him.
Trask was inching ever closer, his attention fixed on his victim. Good. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice me.
Trask walked past me, his eyes wide with a horrid fascination as he went after his quarry. He seemed mesmerized by the effect the green rock was having on Clark. I felt sick watching him, hearing Clark struggle just behind me. The strongest man on the planet, menaced by a green rock. It was a disturbing irony, and the humiliation of it must be killing Clark.
I felt the ropes in my hands, getting angrier by the second as Trask approached. He was at least twice my size, if not more, and I knew that at best I would be able to distract him. I would have to get the rock away from him somehow so Clark would have a chance to recover.
Had Superman ever told me about this rock? I suppose not, and I wondered, from Clark’s reaction to it, if he even had known about it before either.
As soon as Trask’s back was to me, I jumped out of the chair, and lunged up on its seat to reach Trask’s shoulders. I jumped on his back, using the rope to try and strangle him. As I had feared, he was too strong for me, though it did distract him enough so that he dropped the green rock. It rolled somewhere near Clark, and I could see him crumple up in ever more acute agony…
“Can you close the lid, Clark?” I called, being tossed around on Trask’s back like a monkey on an angry lion.
I couldn’t see him, but I heard the box close. Just as I tried to look over my shoulder at Clark, Trask managed to toss me into the wall, where I fell off, landing on the floor with a thud.
“Don’t touch her, Trask,” I heard Clark say from behind Trask, who was looming over me, now with the ropes in his hand.
He glanced at Clark, and I could see that Clark had somehow gotten Trask’s gun.
TO BE CONTINUED...
