Ship
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Clark was so stunned he couldn't move.
His ship!
He'd all but given up hope of ever seeing it again. Ever since the night it disappeared he'd been blaming himself. Thinking that if only he'd tried harder to figure out it's secrets – explored his origins a bit more – not let his father's death lead him to destroying the key - he might have learned something.
Like who he was.
Or why he was on this planet.
Was there a different destiny for him out there? Just waiting?
The ship was tilted, resting on the sharp fins that extended from it's hull. It looked… small… insignificant. Just another piece of machinery.
Except that there was something wholly alien about it.
Just looking at it, you knew… it didn't come from this earth.
Lois must have gotten the same impression, because she headed for the door, shocking Clark into action.
"Lois wait!"
He sprang forward and grabbed her arm.
"Smallville, let me go!" she protested, trying to pull loose, "I wanna see it!"
"Just… think about this for a second," said Clark, "We don't know what that is, or what'll happen if we open the door. There could be alarms… guards…"
"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"
Ripping her arm free, Lois crossed the three feet to the connecting door and pulled it open.
Clark expected the wailing blare of an alarm going off, but it never came. Instead, it was like he was hit by a tidal wave of raw, malicious energy.
The minute the door opened, something seeped inside him, and set his blood alight.
Clark tried to scream, but all that escaped was a hoarse croak as his legs went out from under him.
Lois didn't even notice. She only had eyes for the ship, expecting Clark to follow. Except he couldn't. He was busy choking on his own bile as the pain grabbed at his heart and squeezed.
Far too late, Clark remembered one other note from Perry's stakeout of the site.
Lead.
They'd shipped in lead… obviously to contain the effects of the meteor rocks.
Fighting the urge to pass out, and ignoring the screaming in his head, Clark planted his hands on the floor, and tried to drag himself to the door. The short gap seemed to yawn in front of him, like an uncrossable chasm – but he hoped that if he could just make it to the door, he could get Lois' attention.
Every movement drew a grunt of pain.
Sweat was already dripping off him, coating the stone floor.
His legs were dead weights being dragged behind him as he edged closer… a few inches at a time.
He reached the threshold, blinking back the salty drops of sweat that stung his eyes. Lois was on her knees in front of the ship. She had her hand out, almost reverentially, running it over the surface of the ship.
Clark knew what she was feeling.
Whatever the ship was made of, it gave off tiny jolts of static up to two inches above the surface. Just being close to it made your whole body hum.
"Lois…" he tried to call, but the word seemed to get lost in the cavernous room, "Lois…"
Then Clark saw it.
Beyond the ship, a section of the wall seemed to open up.
A hidden door.
Two figures emerged from it. They were right in Lois' line of sight, if she would just raise her head.
But she didn't. She was so fixated on the ship, she didn't see the men making their slow way across the floor.
They were clad in black – dressed like the guards outside. One of them raised his arm, and made a sweeping motion. The other started crabbing sideways, slow and deliberate. Then they both raised their arms, and the fire in Clark's blood was suddenly doused with ice.
Guns!
Machine pistols by the look of them.
The guards hadn't spotted him yet – their sights were trained on Lois.
There was no time for thought.
No time for pain.
He just acted.
The meteor infection was still very much alive inside him – roiling and raging and shredding his veins with knives of fire – but Clark ignored it.
His senses seemed to sharpen, and he saw the first guard's finger tighten on the trigger.
He thought maybe he screamed, but he couldn't be sure. Instead, he just dug the tips of his toes into the grading of the floor and took off.
Sound muffled as he went supersonic. The explosion of the gun sounded like a sputtering cough.
Clark tracked the bullet with his eyes as it tore at the air, on it's inevitable trajectory – straight at Lois' head. He fought against the heaviness of the air, that had become like a pool of water, slowing him down.
One step, two, three…
And all the while the bullet was getting closer.
In the tiniest fraction of a second, Clark panicked.
He wasn't going to make it.
He took one last despairing lunge, and dived.
He threw out a hand, grabbing Lois by the shoulder, pulling her downward, just as the bullet whipped past the space where her head would have been. As they hit the ground, Clark felt a twinge on his arm, but, again, he ignored it.
The danger wasn't over.
Even as Lois' cry of surprise echoed out, Clark saw the second guard tracking his weapon to compensate for their move.
Concentrating on the tip of the barrel, Clark summoned a rage that shot from his eyes in a blast of heat that blew the gun to pieces. The gunpowder in the bullets must have ignited, because the gun went up in a blaze, and the guard fell back, screaming in pain.
Clark tilted his head, and saw the first guard converging on them.
He used his left arm to get a grip on the fin of the ship, and again felt a pull of sharp pain in his upper arm. Gritting his teeth, trying his best to compensate for the awkward angle, Clark hoisted the ship and tossed it.
It careened through the air, end of over end, and caught the guard a glancing blow to the side of the head.
It was enough.
The man was thrown a good fifteen feet and crumpled into a heap.
Clark was finished.
It felt like he'd run a marathon.
Two marathons – back to back, and the pain had now coalesced so that it felt like his whole body was throbbing.
"Clark? What the hell?"
Lois was trying to drag herself out from where he'd pinned her to the floor. Clark couldn't move.
"Oh, my God!" she yelled, "You've been shot!"
Now Clark noticed the dark blood pumping from his arm and spreading in a still pool underneath his body. He just watched it for a long minute, almost fascinated by the way it oozed out.
Lois managed to free herself and get to her feet.
She spared the unlucky guards only the briefest glance, before she grabbed Clark underneath his armpits, and tried to heave him up.
Clark's boots scrabbled at the floor – and he almost lost his footing – but with Lois' help, he managed to make it to his feet.
His vision swam and he almost passed out.
"Come on, hang in there…" Lois urged, "We gotta go."
If the race to beat the bullet seemed to take an age, the trip back felt even longer. Clark just stared at the floor, unable to lift his head. The effects of the meteor rocks weighed down on him like a mountain on his back. He just kept trying to put one foot in front of the other, his arm slung around Lois for support.
Once through the door, Clark just managed to mutter… "Close… close it." before collapsing against the wall.
Lois wrenched on the door and shut it with a bang.
Like a thread being cut, the assault of the meteor rocks was severed. But Clark still felt so weak – like a newborn trying to walk.
Lois had to help him regain his feet, and together they made their way outside.
The reached the exterior door in time to see the perimeter guards charging for the front entrance. Grateful for the distraction, they crossed the lot, and used the same break in the fence to get out.
Only once they were back in the car, did Clark allow the darkness to take him.
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