8. Do The Wright Thing
CLARK
The truck is dragged up off the ground, and I hear her despairing cry.
Run.
-Inside- the storm.
I look up. A circle of blue sky and absolute stillness. Sometimes the world slows down around me. I can see dust held in sunlight. Around me, a wall of darkness, dirt and debris, and I can see it turning, see the currents moving through the surface, and no-one else will ever know how beautiful it is. Slow the world some more, and I'm a fly held in amber - Jurassic Clark. Existing in a pillar of light and peace, in the middle of devastation.
Held at the still centre of the world, I stretch out my arms, lean into the wind. Kick off with one foot. Rise.
I'm moving through slow spinning fragments of the world, somehow faster than the storm. Riding the wind, power to make me feel small. Searching through the darkness, find the shape I'm looking for. Pull the door off the truck, and I don't even have to try. Take the limp form of Lana in my arms, and she's so fragile. The world snaps back with a roar, and I have to get out of the storm, before gravity notices me.
Hold her close to my body, shield her, and I remember how tiny she felt when the glass showered down around us. Now, I know that I'm being struck by debris, but it has no effect. Let the wind carry us up. I can see so -much- from here. The whole of Lowell county spread out in front of us, and I can't share this with anyone. I haven't the words.
Above the world, above fear and anger and guilt. Rising above the doubts and fears. And more than the wind is holding me here. I can feel it humming in my blood. Strange echo of the dreams that made me float. Golden light and a voice beyond the edge of hearing.
Spat out into the world with sudden force, and we're falling. Twist my body, so that Lana is cradled against my chest. And Kansas strikes me between the shoulder-blades.
CLARK
The truck is dragged up off the ground, and I hear her despairing cry.
Run.
-Inside- the storm.
I look up. A circle of blue sky and absolute stillness. Sometimes the world slows down around me. I can see dust held in sunlight. Around me, a wall of darkness, dirt and debris, and I can see it turning, see the currents moving through the surface, and no-one else will ever know how beautiful it is. Slow the world some more, and I'm a fly held in amber - Jurassic Clark. Existing in a pillar of light and peace, in the middle of devastation.
Held at the still centre of the world, I stretch out my arms, lean into the wind. Kick off with one foot. Rise.
I'm moving through slow spinning fragments of the world, somehow faster than the storm. Riding the wind, power to make me feel small. Searching through the darkness, find the shape I'm looking for. Pull the door off the truck, and I don't even have to try. Take the limp form of Lana in my arms, and she's so fragile. The world snaps back with a roar, and I have to get out of the storm, before gravity notices me.
Hold her close to my body, shield her, and I remember how tiny she felt when the glass showered down around us. Now, I know that I'm being struck by debris, but it has no effect. Let the wind carry us up. I can see so -much- from here. The whole of Lowell county spread out in front of us, and I can't share this with anyone. I haven't the words.
Above the world, above fear and anger and guilt. Rising above the doubts and fears. And more than the wind is holding me here. I can feel it humming in my blood. Strange echo of the dreams that made me float. Golden light and a voice beyond the edge of hearing.
Spat out into the world with sudden force, and we're falling. Twist my body, so that Lana is cradled against my chest. And Kansas strikes me between the shoulder-blades.