A Death In The Family: Part Three:
Resurrection
Chapter 10
They were several miles out of Metropolis on a hidden country road when Chloe pulled the blue, late model Taurus down a dirt driveway. She ignored the protest from Clark who sat in the back seat.
"This is crazy, Chloe," He groaned. "We are on the run from Lionel and the law. Being here is not a good idea."
"Weren't you the one who wanted to sneak back into Smallville and check on your folks as our first mission on this road trip?" Chloe asked glancing in to the rear view mirror at him. "We were able to talk you out of it, and this is a lot safer than the family farm right now."
"Besides," Lana turned in the front passenger seat to see him. "Don't you want to see Pete and invite him along for our newest adventure?"
Clark stared out the window with a hopeless frown. "Of course I want to see Pete, but does he want to see us? He still has three weeks on this summer camp counselor thing. And Lex was never his favorite person to start with."
"Stop being such a stick in the mud, Clark," Chloe sighed. "Pete would never forgive us if we didn't invite him along for the ride. Besides, it looks better for your church group if there are four friends on this journey than just you and two girls."
"I guess," Clark agreed, reluctantly.
The Church's campground was spacious and spread out across fifty acres of land. It was called a campground in reference only since it had been an old military school with three large, castle-like buildings flanking the private housing of the administration in the middle, with another larger structure serving as a bunkhouse with a separate dormitory behind it. Several of the churches in the Kansas area had purchased it a few years back and have been attempting to restore it to its original shape ever since. The first few years had been an adventure as Clark and Pete would rummage through the old empty buildings searching out the secret rooms and discarded treasures of years gone by. Clark had once found an old newspaper dated on the day of Queen Elizabeth's coronation. He sat for nearly an hour reading the pages from front to back in the empty boarding room in the back building. It was not until days later that he realized he had tossed it out with the trash and then had wished he had the foresight to save it.
"Here we are," Chloe announced, pulling up before the first large, stone structure building. Detached from the others in a 'L' shape formation to the right, it was once a gymnasium and was recently converted into the new sanctuary for the evening services.
Her voice woke Clark from his remembrance of his former treasure hunting days. He slowly opened his door and stepped out in the hot air of the summer heat. Chloe and Lana joined him at his side.
"This is the first year I haven't come for camp," he told them with a bit of envy in his voice. "Pete and I have had a lot of good times here."
"There's always next year, Clark," Chloe commented. "It's not a toddler's camp."
Clark gave her a half smile.
"Clark," A voice called from the top of the stone steps. "Clark Kent."
He looked up and saw a middle aged man, still with a full head of lightly grayed hair standing at the entrance to the building. "Pastor Springs," he called back with a big smile.
The elder man walked down and gave Clark a big hug. "I thought you were not going to make it this year."
"I'm just here for a visit," Clark explained. "My friends, Chloe and Lana, and I came to see Pete."
"Of course," he turned to the girls. "Sisters Sullivan and Lang."
"Pastor," they both gave him a nervous nod of their heads.
"I miss seeing you at service, Chloe," he smiled at her shaking her hand.
"Well, I've been busy," she attempted her words with a cheer, but they came out at a groan.
"Well, God always makes time for his flock," he returned.
"Right," she sighed placing her nervous hands in her jean pockets.
"And Lana," he shook her hand. "How have the choir practices been going in my time away?"
"Very well," she beamed back.
Chloe turned away in disgust and Clark could swear he heard her whisper something under her breath.
"Do you know where we can find Pete?" Clark asked as small group of happy young boys ran by.
"Yes," Pastor Springs smiled. "He has kitchen duties today, and I believe he should still be there cleaning up from the lunch rush and preparing for the dinner meal."
"Thank you," Chloe said hurriedly, and turned towards the white building several yards away that served as the cafeteria.
"Clark," Pastor called before he could leave. "I was wondering if I could have a moment of you time in private."
"Of course," Clark smiled politely. He turned to the girls. "Go on ahead and I'll catch up."
Chloe was already half way there and Lana nodded her approval.
Pastor Springs' office was a small room in the second white wooded building that served as his private quarters for his time here, and was one of the few places that was air-conditioned. The elder man wiped his brow as he walked around his desk.
"You must have ice water in your veins, Clark," he jokingly commented as he sat down in his seat. "I don't believe I have ever seen you break a sweat."
"I do a lot of farm work," Clark made the excuse. "I guess it has helped me to build up a stamina for the heat."
"That must be it," he eyed his young charge suspiciously. In all the years he had known the young man, there were a lot of things that did not add up, but he knew that he could always trust Clark when he needed to.
The office was small and sparsely furnished for his short few weeks here each year. The Pastor tugged at his polo shirt to air himself out. "I thank the Lord for the day they invented air-conditioning."
"It's nice," Clark grinned nervously taking a seat on the opposite side of the desk. "Was there a reason for you inviting me in here?"
Pastor Springs studied him for a short minute. "Is everything all right at home, Clark?"
It was a simple question, but at the moment he was unsure how to answer. "Why do you ask, sir?"
The Pastor took a deep breath and then answered. "I got a phone call a few hours ago from a concerned sister in the church. She tells me that your parents have been arrested."
Clark shifted his weight in the chair nervously. "Yeah, well," he searched his thought for the proper answer.
"I have known Jonathan and Martha a very long time, son, and I don't think I have ever seen them drink, much less offer or force alcohol on another person," Spring told him with a concerned voice. "What is going on down there in Smallville, Clark?"
Clark stared at the floor for a moment and then back up at his Pastor. "I wish I knew, sir. Everything has gotten out of control in the past few weeks."
"And it all stems from Lex's death?" Springs added.
"Yes, Pastor," Clark nodded. "There is some great mystery surrounding his death, and I think his father is trying to cover it up by inventing this story about my folks."
"Would Mr. Luthor do something like that?"
Clark tilted his head in a half nod. "I think so, and I know a lot of other people agree with me."
"Do you think that Lionel Luthor has something to do with why the police are looking for you?"
This last statement got Clark's attention and he sharpened up in the seat. "The police?"
"Yes, son," the Pastor nodded. "They called about an hour ago and asked me to inform them if I saw you. Is there more to this story you are not telling me?"
"No," Clark almost jumped up. "I mean, not really. Lionel kinda knows that we are onto this being some big mystery, and I think he's trying to stop us from uncovering something."
"Are you sure about this, Clark?" He raised a concerned brow.
"Yes, Pastor," Clark, insisted. "Not only us, but a reporter at the Daily Planet, also."
Pastor Springs was in deep thought for a few minutes. "Well, do you have any leads?"
Clark was hesitant to answer, but decided that if he could not trust his pastor, then whom could he trusted? "Yes, sir."
He held up his hand before Clark could say anymore. "I don't need anymore information, Clark. I don't want to have to lie or cover up for you if the police show up here later. You are one of the most responsible young men I have ever met, son, and I am trusting that you know what you are doing in this matter."
"I do," Clark gave him an assuring smile. "As much as I can be."
Pastor Springs slapped his hands on the desk. "Then there is only one thing left to do before I let you get on your way."
Clark gave him a questionable stare.
"We will pray together, Clark," Pastor Springs gave him a large smile.
The cafeteria was a small, wood framed building nestled between the two large stone buildings connected to the white, double decked, private living quarter's house. It was only one story high, and appeared to be small from the outside, but once you got past the fifteen foot wide front exterior of the viewable frame and entered the two double doors and walked past the foyer, it was clear that this structure extended back for several yards between the larger buildings and took the space of about a half of a football field.
Once past the entrance hall, there was a very large seating area with several tables and folded chairs of all types and colors that made up the dining hall. The two sidewalls were lined with windows that viewed the small passageway between the structures, but were primarily to allow some natural light into the hall. At the far end were two sets of double doors on either side, which lead into an area lined with tables on the inner wall to hold utensils and serving trays across from the display and serving carts where the food was placed for the campers to choose their own desired meals depending on that day's menu. Behind the serving counter was another wall leading to the large kitchen and service area where the food and dishes were prepared each meal.
Chloe and Lana made there way into the service area where they found Pete Ross wiping down the empty service carts with a clean rag. He was dressed in a white tee shirt and white work pants that were covered by a slightly stained full apron of white canvas type cloth. He wore a hairnet over his short-cropped hair, and the sight made Chloe giggle as she approached him.
"Now this would make a perfect picture for the return issue of the Smallville High Torch," she joked. "How I spent my summer slaving away at youth camp, by Pete Ross."
He looked up from his work. "Very funny, Chloe," he gave her a snide grin. "I'm sorry to say that not all of us were able to land a posh summer inter ship at a highly celebrated newspaper. I chose the higher road and decided to volunteer my time for a worthy cause."
"Since when is wiping days old mac and cheese from a counter a 'worthy cause'?" She continued to rib him.
He sighed with a deep breath and continued the last of his wiping.
"Don't let Chloe get to you, Pete," Lana chimed in with her own smile. "I for one think that service to our fellow man is a noble cause."
Chloe raised an eyebrow. "This coming from a woman who slops java in an old abandon movie house for a living. Minimum wage and mundane might be enough for you small town types, but I want the luxury and adventure of a hard hitting journalist."
"So why did you girls come here?" Pete asked as he leaned on the glass showcase.
"Aren't you supposed to ask if we want fries with that, or something?" Chloe continued to joke.
"Okay, Chloe," Lana sighed. "Your blue collar versus white collar tripe is well noted, but let's move on."
Chloe leaned against the same counter as Pete and looked him square in the eyes. "You know why we are here, Pete. We explained it on the phone."
"Oh, yeah," he pushed himself away. "The whole mystery of the possible missing Lex Luthor and the true cause of his accident."
"Right," Chloe agreed.
Pete walked over to a large basing of dirty dishes a few feet away. "Well like I told you on the phone, Chloe. I am not interested." He picked up the tray and turned towards the kitchen behind him.
"But you never explained why," Chloe announced with an exasperated voice.
Pete pushed his way through a double set of metal doors into the kitchen.
Chloe and Lana gave each other a look of disgust.
At the end of the lined up counters, Chloe found a small opening and slid her slender form through, setting a path to follow Pete's retreat back behind the wall. Lana took her cue and made the same journey.
When they entered the cluttered area of grills, coolers, tables and other large size kitchen tools, they saw Pete had made his way towards the back where there was a large sink filled with soapy water. He dumped the contents of his basin into the liquid and began to walk back to the large table in the center of the room. There were two other people in the kitchen who were busy preparing for the next meal. Pete gave a sigh of exasperation when he saw the girls had followed him.
"What is your problem?" he asked. "Can't you take a hint and leave well enough alone?"
"I want an answer, Pete," Chloe demanded with her hands on her hip. "This is not like you. You just don't show a lack of interest when there is a mystery to solve."
Pete wiped his head with his apron and leaned back on the table. "I am sorry, Chloe, but I don't have time to climb into the mystery machine with you, Daphne, and Fred. I am not interested in spoiling old man Luthors plan to spook you out."
"Clark could really use his friends around him right now," Lana spoke up with concern. "That phone call he thought he got from Lex is really freaking him out, and he could use the support."
They could tell that Pete was also worried about his good friend Clark, but he was staying strong to his determination of not giving in. He turned away with a hint of shame and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry, but I can't help you. You know how I feel."
"No, I don't," Chloe approached him. "I don't believe that line you gave me over the phone. That was not you saying those horrible things."
"They're true," Pete raised his head to the heavens as if to hold back his anguish. "I meant what I said."
"Then why can't you face me and say it to my face, Pete?" she said harshly.
He lowered his head and they could see his arms begin to shake.
"You can't say it because you don't mean it," Chloe forced the subject.
"Yes, I do," he said in slow deliberate words with gritted teeth.
Chloe grabbed his right arm with her left hand. "Then say it, Pete. Say the worst thing I have ever heard you utter and when you do, you had better mean it, because once it is spoken you can't take it back."
"Alright!" He screamed as he began to turn around with tears of anger streaming down his face. "I said it before and I'll say it again. As far as I am concerned, the only good Luthor is a dead Luthor!"
Both Chloe and Lana gasped at the sound of the words said with such hatred. They both covered their mouths and let out a small gasp of disapproval. Pete watched the horror in their eyes. Even though Chloe had heard the words over the phone, she never thought he would be able to say them to her face. A look of hurt soon replaced her surprise and horror. She lifted her arms to reach out to him, but all of them were stopped dead by the hush squeak of the metal door leading to the service area that had just been opened.
All three of them turned and saw Clark standing between the two rooms with the most hurt and confused look they had ever seen on his face. He stood as if in shock and barely moved a muscle, allowing the door to tap against his arm as it swung back to close.
"Oh, God, Clark," Pete let out in a pleading voice. "I didn't know you were standing there. You were not supposed to hear that."
Clark's eyebrows creased in disapproval. "I figured that, Pete." He slowly pushed the door again and made his way into the kitchen.
The other two young camp assistants who had been working in the kitchen had disappeared and made themselves scarce. The four friends remained alone in the kitchen as Lana and Chloe watched Pete and Clark stare each other down.
"I'm sorry, Clark, you were not suppose to hear that," Pete repeated.
Clark did not say a word. He finally ended his stare-off and allowed his eyes to drift to the floor. He searched his mind for words to say, if any were to be found. Then as if hit by a gentle nudge of inspiration, he spoke. "Lex liked you, Pete. He was nothing like his father."
"We don't know that, Clark," Pete replied in a shaky voice. "Lex was just starting out, he just didn't have a chance to be like his old man."
Clark rubbed his face hard with his hands. "Lex never did anything to you."
"They stole my families cream corn factory," Pate's voice took a harsher tone.
A look of amazement came over Clark's face. "That was thirteen years ago and you were barely three at the time. What possible effect could it of had on you?"
"They took my family's livelihood and made a fortune from the land and buildings," Pete explained.
"They opened a crap factory which supplied Smallville with hundreds of jobs," Clark returned with raised arms. "You don't make a fortune off of fertilizer, Pete. Besides, I seem to remember being told that your family used the money to send your dad through law school. Now he's a lawyer."
"He did what he had to so we would survive, Clark," Pete snorted. "Luthor Corp has been raping Smallville ever since. Lex would have turned out just like his old man if given the chance."
Clark turned away and leaned on the table next to Pete. "Wouldn't Lionel have had you arrested?"
Pete remained silent as Clark stared up at the ceiling. "I was at the mansion before Lex's accident, and they were repairing the damage from the storm, and while the workmen were there, I saw them ripping up the drywall in his study where there were still several bullet holes and lead settled into those cracks."
A look of shame came over Pete's face but he remained silent.
Clark choked back his own emotions as he continued. "I lost count of just how many there were, Pete. Was it five or six?" He paused for effect looking down at the floor. "I guess it didn't really matter, because to Lex, it didn't."
"I," Pete shaky voice started. "I was under the effects of that stupid flower or whatever it was. Man, I don't even remember trying to kill him."
"But Lex did," Clark stood on his own again. "He had to face down the barrel of a gun in your hands while you fired, and he still never filed charges or tried to have you arrested. He even paid to find the cure that saved your life."
"Clark, that's not fair," Lana objected from a few feet away. "We all know that Pete was feeling a little rejected since Lex came to town. The Nicodemus flower worked on that hurt."
"We've all felt a little neglected by you when Lex showed up, Clark," Chloe added.
Clark stood in the middle of the room for a moment. "Let's face it guys, there is not a person in this room that hasn't either tried to hurt, offend or steel something from Lex for what ever reason we might have had, but he kept giving us another chance and he kept trying to prove his loyalties with interviews for the school paper, joint business ventures with teenagers and just trying to be there for us when ever he could."
"Clark," Chloe spoke up with tears in her eyes. "We don't hate Lex, we just hate that you would rather spend time with him than us."
Clark rubbed his face again. His eyes were becoming puffy from the tears he too was forcing back. "I honestly tried to never neglect you guys, I swear, but why do you think I spent so much time with Lex?"
He stood before Pete. "Lex never made a bet between my best friends four out of five mornings a week that I would, yet again, missed the school bus. There were no snide remarks at every turn or the constant put-downs."
Pete hung his head in shame.
Clark then walked over to Chloe. "He was never the other best friend who wagered that I would make a complete fool of myself when I saw Lana each day. At least when he investigated my life, he had good reasons, and he never questioned the validity of my adoption or the company that handled it. He also dropped it when I asked him to."
Chloe couldn't help her tears from falling. She simply turned away.
Lana now, too, began to tear up as he passed by her with a knowing look in his eyes, but he chose to remain silent
When he got to the double doors, Clark looked back at his three remaining friends. He felt remorse for the hurt he caused, but not the words he had said. He slowly turned towards the door.
"I'm sorry," he spoke softly into the metal.
As he pushed pass the door Chloe called out. "Wait Clark, where are you going?"
"I need to walk to clear my head for a few minutes," he told them. "I'll be back." In a hesitant after thought, he added again. "I'm sorry."
It was forty-five minutes before Clark made his way back to the parked car where a somber Chloe and Lana were waiting for him. The summer heat was streaming off the hood in a haze of mixed colors. He could see that the two young women were being careful not to speak.
He walked past them and placed his hands on the top of the vehicle. "I have to do this, guys. I'll understand if you want to go home instead. I have to finish this journey even if it means I do it alone."
Lana looked at Chloe with an understanding glance, and then she walked over to Clark. "We are in this together, Clark. We are not going to back away from you or this mystery about Lex."
"We already knew how much of a great guy Lex was," Chloe added stepping in. "Your little impassioned speech back there just brought it all out to the open again."
Clark did not turn to them, but instead looked up to the birds flying overhead. "I don't know why I keep hurting the people closest to me these days. I didn't mean that whole tirade in there."
"We understand," Lana put her hand on his arm. "Lashing out is sometimes part of the grieving process. What Pete said only set it off all the quicker."
Clark crossed his arms and rested them on the top of the car and then leaned his head on them. "I don't even know what I am doing anymore." He said in a muffled voice. "Am I trying to solve this mystery for me or for Lex? God, I don't even know if he's alive or dead."
"You heard his voice on the phone, Clark," Chloe said with concern.
"I know, but what if it was all a lie," he turned to them with a wretched pained look on his face. "What if we solve this mystery, and Lex is still dead?"
Lana and Chloe both moved in for a hug. "Then you will know for sure," Chloe replied.
The girls had returned to their seats in the car when Clark opened his door and turned to take one last look around. He was surprised to see Pete running across the field with a large paper bag in his hands. He ran to Clark and stopped before him with short breaths that were taking in the afternoon heat.
Clark didn't know what to say. They both had said some horrible things in the kitchen, and it was unclear of who should be more sorry, so he remained silent.
Pete was the first to speak holding up the bag. "I asked the Pastor and he said I could make you guys some sandwiches to take with you."
"Thanks," Clark said in a voice barely above a whisper as Pete handed the bag to Lana through the open window. Then the two young men were standing silent face to face again.
"I..." Clark started.
"Hey look, Clark," Pete cut in, not making eye contact. "I am really sorry about what I said back there. I was out of line."
Clark had to hold down a secret smile as he said with anguish. "I'm sorry, too, Pete. I just heard what you said and I lashed out."
"I really hope you do find Lex or at least whoever killed him," Pete added. "I guess I needed to be reminded of how much of a good guy he really was."
"Thanks, Pete," Clark smiled openly this time. "That means a lot to me. I'm sure Lex would thank you too."
Pete opened his arms for a hug. "So are we, like, buds again?"
"We always will be, Pete," Clark answered and leaned in for a hug.
"Oh, our boys are playing nicely again," Chloe, joked from the drivers seat.
The two guys slapped each other's back before pulling away.
"I actually wish I could go with you guys," Pete said as Clark got into the back seat. "But I did promise Pastor Springs a whole six weeks."
"I understand," Clark leaned out the window. "You make sure you call me the minute you get back to Smallville and we'll go drink the Talon dry."
"Sounds like a plan," Pete laughed. He shook Clark's hand one last time. "In the meantime," his tone became serious. "You prove us nay-sayers wrong, and you find out what really happened to Lex."
"We will," Clark waved as Chloe began to pull away.
"Be careful guys," Pete yelled as they rolled away. "And come back safe."
Clark waved back to Pete as he watched the car roll down the dirt road and out of sight.
Meanwhile, elsewhere: The room was dark and dank. The widow blinds, if there were even any windows, were drawn and kept out the bright afternoon sun. All the lights in the room that could be seen were the tiny red and green service lights of some of the apparent machines and equipment that peppered the area around the room. Occasionally, there would be a moan or a hushed cry from the one occupant of the space. Most of the time the area was silent and black.
A door slowly opened revealing the dim light from the hall as it flooded through the crack and formed a wide stream across the middle of the enclosure. The ray of light cut across what looked to be the foot of a bed with two mounds slowly moving beneath a yellow knitted blanket. A soft groan filled the room.
Then a shadowy figure crossed the light from the hall and entered the room. The light was to the person's back, so all that was seen was a silhouette against the backdrop of the glow. The shadow made its way towards the center of the room.
The glint of the head of a needle sparked in the light against the shadow and rose above the bed near the top.
"No, please not again," a horsed voice, groaned in the dark. "Please."
"I'm sorry," the shadow spoke softly placing the tip of the syringe into a small plastic tube. "I have my orders."
The darkness sighed with a moan.
The shadow pulled the needle back and it, too, disappeared into the darkness. "Sleep well."
Making the same path that it had made on its entrance, the shadow disappeared through the opening taking all what little light it had cast into the room with it. The room again fell into complete silence and darkness.
After a few seconds, there was a rustling of movement from the center as if someone moving their legs slightly under the covers, and then the very faint hushed tone of a voice spoke one word. "Clark." Then it was gone, into the silence, as the light had done moments earlier.
TO BE CONTINUED...
***Notes***
Wow, thanks again for all the good reviews. Please keep them coming.
To Suz: Thanks for your kind words. It does my heart good to know that I have hooked another one. Please keep reading, because the ride continues.
To Merrie: Thanks again for reading and commenting
To MitchPell: Thanks for your continued support. You may have hit on one or two things along the way, but then again, you may not. =)
To Dark Angel: Thank you for your compliment.
To Robyn: Shout Out and thanks. I'm trying hard with the suspense.
To Teri: My head is about to explode with all these nice compliments. Thank you all and please keep writing. The support has made the story even more fun to write and keeps me inspired.
Finally, I know this chapter doesn't contribute a whole lot to the continuance of the story, but I thought some people might be interested in knowing what Pete's take on this whole mystery would be. I based most of the chapter on his one line, "The only good Luthor is a dead Luthor." The rest is mostly filler you build on it. I also couldn't let you think that I would let my version of Clark forget to pray from time to time. As for Pete and the mysterious dark room, you haven't seen the last of either.
Thanks again, and please keeping sending those up lifting reviews.
Phaze