The train slowed and Clark could see the train yard up ahead. It wasn’t well maintained and there were weeds all along the perimeter, but there were also men working, so he crouched low between the cars. It would be easy to be thrown under the wheels and be turned into a red stain, and although Clark knew he was tougher than an ordinary human, he hadn’t had many chances to test out just how much. He’d survived being trampled by a bull without a scratch, but he doubted he’d survive being run over by a fifty ton sidecar, much less thirty of them.
Even if he could, it’d probably derail the train, which would potentially injure or kill even more people. Clark had enough on his conscience without adding anything to it.
Most of the men up ahead were to the right of the train, so Clark moved across to the other side, hoping to put the mass of the train between himself and the workers. He didn’t want to get any closer to the workers than he had to, so he had to leave while the train was still moving.
He waited until the train slowed further and he stepped off. He was struck in the shoulder by the edge of one car and found himself flying forward onto his hands and knees in the snow
Grimacing, Clark pulled himself out of the snow and reached for his backpack, which he’d dropped. His shoulder didn’t even sting, really, but if he’d been human he’d have been badly injured.
There were dozens of sets of tracks, with another train to his left sitting motionless. Clark cautiously crouched and moved toward the other train, uncomfortably aware of his tracks on the snow behind him. It was the work of a moment to duck between the cars of the other train and slip around to the other side.
He slipped around the side of the car and was startled to see two men walking along the side of the train.
“Hey! You aren’t supposed to be here!” the first man shouted, even as the other man pulled out his walkie talkie.
Clark ran, sprinting as best he could through the snow without revealing his special abilities.
He heard the sounds of a vehicle in the distance and he could see a white pickup truck heading in his direction.
Clark dashed into the underbrush on the side of the tracks; using his special vision he could see that there was a break in the chain link fence on the other side of the underbrush. He was barely small enough to slip through, and he could feel the fence tearing at his clothing.
A moment later he was through.
Metropolis wasn’t much to look at, at least so far. This neighborhood wasn’t any better than the one he’d left in Wichita; in many ways, it seemed even more desolate and broken down.
There was graffiti on the walls and old vehicles lining the streets, but there wasn’t anyone in sight.
Hearing the sound of tires on the snow from behind him, Clark decided to keep moving.
****************
Clark felt guilty even as bit into his Big Belly burger. Five dollars gone out of his thirty and he hadn’t even gotten dessert. Food was more expensive here than it had been back home, something he hadn’t realized when he’d been thinking about the big city.
He closed his eyes as he bit into the burger; they really were everything they were advertised to be. Still, at this rate he’d be out of money in just two days.
He had to plan better, budget his money and find some way to make money that didn’t get him thrown in jail or force him to do things that would make him feel bad about himself later.
Clark finished his food quickly. It was a habit he’d learned in foster families where food was important, and food left on the plate was food that was quickly snatched up. Some of his foster brothers and sisters had been deprived of food, which had led to odd behaviors like hoarding food.
He’d seen food stashed away in holes in walls, under beds and in closets, none of which had been well received by the foster parents.
Clark had never had that problem, although he wished now he’d stashed at least some snacks for the road. As expensive as everything was he’d have to learn to make do with less quickly.
As he put his trash in the provided containers, Clark hesitantly walked up to the counter.
“Um…do you have any job openings?”
The teenager at the counter didn’t look any older than he did. Barely looking at him, the boy pulled an application from behind the counter and handed it to him.
“Fill out the paperwork and bring it back in. The manager will see you in a day or two.”
Clark sat down and looked over the application, his heart sinking. There was a lot of information required- they wanted his birth date, which was a problem as he wasn’t old enough to work,
technically. They wanted his address, a telephone number, his social security number, and there were questions about whether he’d been convicted of a felony.
They wanted references, an employment history, even his driver’s license, which of course he didn’t have.
Clark crumpled the application and left through the front door without saying another word.
******************
If he’d been completely human, instead of being a freak, Clark suspected his feet would have been hurting. He’d walked miles through the snow, and only now did he find his goal.
It had been hard enough finding a phone book in town. Finding the library, even with the address had been difficult. Clark had backtracked several times and had become lost in a seemingly endless maze of streets, all of which seemed the same to him.
The inside of the library was warm, and Clark let himself close his eyes for a moment as he soaked in the warmth. It was chilly outside even for him, and he could see that the people’s faces around him were flushed and red. People were bundled up.
Realizing that he might draw attention to himself as the only one without a hat, Clark hunched his shoulders and went to work.
It took almost thirty minutes to find what he was looking for; the location of the closest shelter that provided food. His parents had raised him to not accept charity, but Clark didn’t see that he had any other choice. If he spent all his money on food, then he wouldn’t have anything left.
Printing out a map cost precious change, but he was soon on his way.
It occurred to Clark as he saw a bus passing by that he might need to learn to navigate the bus routes; it was taking him forever to walk everywhere. Unfortunately he didn’t have the money currently.
Walking the route took almost an hour, and as he turned the last corner, Clark could smell the scent of food in the distance. His stomach growled.
His heart sank as he turned the corner. A line of men was waiting which stretched almost around the block. Clark counted quickly and whistled under his breath. There were almost three hundred men standing outside, waiting in the cold for doors which had apparently not even opened yet.
Clark found his way to the back of the line and resolved to wait.
****************
“That’s it,” the man said. “We’re full up. You can try the shelter down on 23rd street.”
Clark stared. He’d been waiting for more than two hours in the snow, and if he wasn’t as cold or desperate as the others, he was irritated.
“I’ve been waiting a long time,” he began. If he could even get a hot meal, he’d be satisfied, even if there wasn’t a bed for him. Clark had slept on the floor before and it didn’t bother him.
“You want to be sure of getting a spot, you need to be here by four thirty,” the man said. He looked at Clark and said “If you can’t be bothered to work, you might as well try to be on time.”
The look the man gave him made Clark want to cringe. It said that Clark looked perfectly healthy and able to work, so why was he trying to take the spot of people who needed it? Of course, that might have been Clark’s own sense of shame.
Before Clark could argue, the door was shut in his face.
***************
With night, the temperatures had dropped even further. Without the sixty mile an hour wind from the train and with several layers of clothing on, Clark thought he might be able to survive the night. He wouldn’t be comfortable, but he’d survive.
His feet and lower legs were wet, though, and he’d had to dry them carefully with his heat vision several times.
Stumbling, Clark almost fell at the entrance to an alley. He froze as he put his hand on the brick wall of the alley.
Covered in snow, he could see two figures huddled together, motionless.
