"That's a pretty amazing story, Clark." Lana Lang put her feet up on
the battered coffee table in Clark's loft. "Do you think it's true,
though?"
"We'll have to wait until we hear from Chloe, I guess," Clark shrugged. It was nice to have Lana pay him a visit again: now that she lived in town she didn't drop by as often as she used to. Of course, Clark didn't flatter himself too much-he knew she was here to find out the whole story behind their adventure at the Winters' place the night before. Apparently Chloe had given her only a hasty sketch over breakfast.
"It never ceases to amaze me the amount of trouble you three get into," Lana was shaking her head. "I got to spend my night pulling coffee drinks at the Talon."
"It really wasn't that big a deal," Clark offered. "We could be completely off base."
"It's ok, Clark, really." Lana laughed. "If Chloe had invited me along I probably would have chickened out before we got there anyway."
"I'm sure you wouldn't have," Clark corrected. For someone other people saw as perfect, it often surprised him how little confidence Lana had in her own abilities.
"Clark?"
"Up here, Mom."
Martha Kent appeared at the top of the stairs, the cordless phone in her hands. She looked troubled, and Clark stood up.
"What is it, Mom?"
"It's Mrs. Ross. She says Pete was due home two hours ago. She's been calling around town, but no one's seen him." She held out the phone to her son.
"Mrs. Ross?"
"Oh, Clark, I heard Martha telling you what happened. Have you seen Peter today?"
"He was at school, Mrs. Ross. After that.hold on, Lana's waving at me. She says he was at the Talon for awhile, and left around."
"5:30," Lana supplied
"5:30."
On the other end Pete's mother sighed heavily. "His father and I might just be overreacting, but with everything that's happened.Can you think of anywhere he might have gone? We've tried everyone we could think of."
"No. But it isn't really like Pete to just take off somewhere without telling anyone." Clark frowned. "Listen, I'll have a look out here. He was probably on his way out and his car broke down or something."
"Oh, you don't have to do that, Clark," Mrs. Ross said, but Clark could hear the hopefulness in her voice.
"I don't mind, Mrs. Ross. I'll call you when I find him."
"Thank you, Clark. You're a good friend."
As he hung up the phone, Clark looked at Lana and his mother, who were watching him with worried eyes.
"Pete's probably just stranded somewhere," Clark said with a lightness he didn't feel. "I said I'd check the roads out here."
Lana jumped to her feet. "Good idea. I'll drive."
Clark exchanged a quick glance with his mother.
"Lana, honey, it might be faster if Clark went by himself."
"Two pairs of eyes are better than one, Mrs. Kent," Lana laughed. "Besides, I know my way around out here at least as well as Clark does."
Clark shot his mother a helpless look, but Martha only shrugged.
Clark knew when he was beaten. "Fine. Great." He did his best to smile. **************************************
Pete awoke in total darkness with a splitting headache. He lay perfectly still, listening carefully; hearing nothing he tried to roll over onto his back, only to hit his head on something only an inch or two above him.
He swore loudly as pain knifed through his head again. When he tried to raise a hand to rub the spot, however, he realized his hands and feet were tied. He must be in a very small space, because he was already in a semi-fetal position and there didn't seem to be much room in which he could move.
"Hey! Anybody!" Pete yelled as loud as he could, and then paused, again listening for a response. When none came he laid his head back down and thought. The last thing he could remember was getting out of Lex's car, and being pushed at gunpoint towards the old Ford Brody Winters had been driving. Then the other man, who'd called himself Rich something, had swung his rifle up. There'd been a flash of pain, and then.
Well, that explained the headache, anyway. He must have been struck with the butt of the rifle. But where was he now, and what had happened to Lex? Whatever had gotten into Brody, Pete was sure he and the other guy meant business. Which might mean Lex was already dead, or dying, somewhere nearby. Pete didn't like the guy, but he knew had to do something.
Carefully, he felt around with his bound hands. The space he was in was only a few feet wide, and perhaps only a foot or two deep. It was suffocatingly warm. Pete was surprised to realize, as he ran his hands over the side closest to him, that it also appeared to be carpeted. On a hunch, he felt directly beneath him, where there seemed to be a hole in the floor.
They'd locked him in the trunk of the car. And judging from the cramped quarters it wasn't Lex's Ferrari.
Pete thought for a long moment. If Clark knew where he was, rescue might be eminent. Unfortunately, as far as he knew no one had seen he and Lex leave the Talon together. It might take hours for anyone to realize the two men were missing, and by then.
No, he couldn't lie here and hope Clark would find him. Clark had a lot of abilities, but he wasn't psychic. Pete's best hope was to get out and find help. Good thing he wasn't claustrophobic.
The problem was that there didn't seem to be anything useful in the trunk with him. He checked the hole were the spare tire should have been, hoping for a lug wrench, but the space was empty. There was what felt like a bundle of rope, probably the same stuff they'd used to tie him up, but that wasn't going to do him any good. His legs were asleep, and his hands were quickly following suit, but he finally hit pay dirt. The locking mechanism of the trunk felt rusty. None of the edges were sharp, but he rolled over on to his back anyway. Pete rubbed the ropes binding his arms against the latch, hoping that he'd been able to find the right spot in spite of the darkness.
As he worked, his wrists growing raw from the movement, he tried to calculate the time. The sun had just gone down when he and Lex had left town; if he was lucky it was past dinnertime by now and his folks would be looking for him. They would call Clark, and then hopefully Clark would come looking for him.
The minutes ticked by, and Pete grew increasingly frustrated. It never seemed to take this long on TV. But finally he could feel the ropes loosen as the top layers gave way, and with a bit more sawing he was able to wrench the bindings loose.
"Finally," he moaned, rubbing his wrists, which felt sticky with blood. As quickly as he could he reached down and tugged at the knots holding his feet until those, too, came undone.
"Hey, Clark! Anybody! Help!" He tried hollering again, but still no one came.
"C'mon, Clark, where are you? You're the one with the powers-this is your thing, not mine," he grumbled to himself. "What do I know about rescues? I can't even get myself out of a car trunk."
With sweat now running into his eyes from the exertion, Pete tried to force the lock open. But without any tools there was no way he could get the locking mechanism to open from the inside. He then tried ramming the trunk lid with his shoulder, they way they had practiced in football. Unfortunately, there proved to be a big difference between running into a stuffed dummy and running into a piece of sheet metal. Pete rested for a while, rubbing his shoulder.
He finally resorted to kicking at the lid with both feet, and on the sixth kick it finally gave way. With a squeal of rusted hinges the trunk lid swung open.
Pete looked around cautiously. The car was in some kind of paved driveway, but he could see cornfields on either side of him. No wonder no one had been able to hear him. The moon hung low in the sky.
He gingerly swung his sore legs over the side and stepped out of his prison. His muscles screamed for mercy, but he stayed low, peering around the side of the car. At the end of the driveway he could see the high fences of the LexCorp plant. The other old car was next to him; the Ferrari was gone. There was no sign of his abductors, or of Lex.
Pete supposed it was possible that Lex had somehow gotten away, but considering he'd been outnumbered two to one Pete didn't think he should bet on that. The three men must be inside the plant, but why?
He decided not to waste time contemplating that question. As best he could he took off at a run down the access road that wound its way toward the highway back into Smallville.
"Damn, Brody," he panted as he ran, "what are you thinking, man?" ************************************************
Under any other set of circumstance Clark would have been ecstatic about sharing a private truck ride in the moonlight with Lana Lang at his side. The problem was, though, that it was extremely difficult to scan the cornfields on either side of the rode without her noticing. Pete had told him had a tendency to squint a little when he used either his heat or his x- ray vision. In fact, Chloe had once seen him doing it and, mistaking the squint for nearsightedness, had told him he'd better schedule an eye exam.
They were about half a mile south of the Luthor mansion when he finally saw something.
"Lana, stop here."
As the truck slid to a halt Clark jumped out and ran to the side of the rode. He looked more carefully through the corn. He'd only caught the outline of a shape before, but now he could see it was a car.
"Clark, what is it?" Lana was out of breath from rushing to his side.
"Um, I thought I say something out here. See where those stalks of corn are torn up? Stay put for a second, ok?" Not wanting to give anything away, Clark pushed into the tall corn following the damaged stalks. The strange thing was that some appeared to have been hastily stood upright again. But why would someone bother doing that?
About fifteen yards off the rode he found the car. But it wasn't Pete's old one. It was Lex's Ferrari.
As quickly as he could he scanned the car, but he found no sign of a body, or of any damage to the vehicle. He breathed a loud sigh of relief; it wouldn't have been the first car Lex had totaled.
In the moonlight Clark walked around to the driver's side, where the window was partially rolled down. He didn't see anything suspicious inside, but on the dashboard the 'check engine' light was illuminated. And no wonder-- he could see the keys still dangling in the ignition, but the gas tank gauge was on empty. Clark fished out the keys, and studied the heavy gold "L" hanging on the key chain. It was Lex's car all right. But no Lex.
"Clark! What did you find?" Is it Pete?" In the distance Clark could hear Lana calling.
"No, it isn't Pete," he called back, hastily pushing he way back through the field. "It's Lex's car, but Lex isn't in it," he told Lana as he emerged back on to blacktop.
"Do you think he went off the road?" Lana asked worriedly.
"It's possible, I guess. But the car was in neutral and the keys were still in it. Lex would have locked it up before leaving it. I think we'd better call my dad and have him bring the sheriff out here."
As they walked back to the truck so Lana could grab her phone a black car passed them on the highway. A second later it swung around in a U turn and flashed its high beams at them, stopping just behind their truck.
Clark recognized it as one of Lex' Mercedes, but when the driver's side window rolled down it was Catherine Carter who was driving.
"I'm glad I caught up with you two. Clark's mom said you two were out here somewhere. Clark, Chloe just called me, and."
"Catherine, is Lex at the mansion?" Lana interrupted.
The older woman looked puzzled at the question. "No. Why?"
"We found his car out there," Clark gestured at the corn field, "but it isn't damaged and Lex isn't in it. Do you know where he might be now?"
"No. I mean, he was supposed to be at the hospital with A.J., but apparently he never showed up." She looked mildly annoyed. "I just figured he had to work late."
"This doesn't make any sense." Clark ran a hand through his hair. "Usually if Lex says he's going to be someplace he'll be there."
"Clark, I'm really worried. We definitely need to call the police," Lana said fretfully, flipping on her cell phone. "Shoot, I can't get a signal out here!"
"There's a relay tower south of our place, but I guess we're too far out of range. Why don't we." Clark trailed off as a sound carried to him from the distance. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Catherine asked.
"That." Clark listened closely again.
"I heard it that time," Lana nodded.
"It sounded like Pete." Clark glanced down the highway to the west, where he could just see a small figure in the distance. "I think it is Pete! Lana, let's go!"
Catherine nodded. "I'll follow you."
If Clark had been on his own he could have been there in an instant, but as it was it only took a few minutes to reach his friend.
Pete was standing by the side of the road, palms on his thighs, breathing hard. As the two cars pulled up he grinned widely.
"Man, am I glad to see you guys! I saw headlights in the distance but I just couldn't go any further."
Lana hugged him, and Clark took off his jacket and threw it around his friend. "Pete what happened?" He looked closely at his friend's dark hair. "Pete, you're bleeding!"
"I know. Check it out." Pete held up his raw wrists for inspection. "But that doesn't matter now-I think Lex is in trouble."
While Dr. Carter carefully examined Pete's head, he related the story as best he could.
"I think Brody's gone nuts. He and that other dude definitely looked like they had it out for Lex."
"You think Brody and Erickson took him to the plant? Why?" Clark asked.
"I dunno.ouch!"
"Sorry, Pete. It doesn't look like you need stitches, but the wound should be cleansed properly. And you'll need a head x-ray, just in case," Catherine sighed.
"Why don't you take Lana and Pete back into town," Clark advised. "I'm going out to the plant."
"Clark, you can't--it might be dangerous!" Lana said.
Pete gave his friend a knowing look. "No, Clark will be careful and not get too close. And, besides, someone needs to get the police. Lana, you need to drive-I'm a little bit dizzy."
Lana look torn for a moment, but her sympathy for Pete finally won out. "You're right, you're right." She helped Pete into the truck. "Clark, please be careful," he told him as she slid into the driver's seat.
"I will, I promise," he told her. He watched as the truck pulled away, Dr. Carter following in Lex' car. As soon as he was sure they were out of view he speed off into the fields.
He was already gone when the black car again swung around and followed him. *******************************************************
"Where is it Luthor? Answer me!"
Lex Luthor looked up into Rich Erickson's red face and smiled.
"Where's what?"
Erickson swung out hard with his right fist, knocking Lex's head back. Lex thought he could feel blood trickling from his nose, but since his hands were bound behind him he couldn't very well check.
Brody Winters stood to one side, his gun resting in the crook of his arm, steadfastly refusing to meet his eyes.
"There were almost a thousand pounds of ammonium nitrate stored in your warehouse, Luthor-I saw the invoices! Where is it now?" Erickson was so angry spittle was dripping down his chin as he yelled, but Lex refused to rise to the bait. He'd learned, being held at gunpoint more than once, that staying calm was usually one's best bet to stay alive.
"I merely took some minor security precautions," Lex told him smoothly. "Given the situation over the last few weeks I would have been remiss if I hadn't protected my own and my workers safety. The bags you're referring to have been stored safely off-site."
Lex shot a glance at his other captor.
"Mr. Winters, I hope you realize that whatever Mr. Erickson here has talked you into is not going to happen as you planned. If you turn Pete Ross and myself loose I can still help you."
Lex was genuinely concerned about Pete, who'd been struck on the head and stuffed rather unceremoniously into Winters' trunk. He didn't know how bad the injury was, and if anything happened to Ross the town would never let him live it down.
"Don't listen to him, Brody." Rich stared at Lex. "Haven't you done enough damage already?"
But Lex kept his eyes focused on Brody. "Haven't enough people been hurt, Brody? Do you really want to add to the body count?"
The other man winced, but Rich Erickson would not be cowed.
"Listen to him trying to talk his way out of this," he sneered. "You Luthors are pretty good at talking, aren't you? But you've never learned how to listen." He leaned close, his breath on Lex's face.
"Well, I say not enough people have been hurt, not if it hasn't made anything change. But you and I are going to fix that."
Lex raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me. You're planning on martyring yourself for the cause, right? How noble. I assume you were planning on igniting our chemical warehouse and blowing us all to smithereens?" Lex smiled slightly. "Sorry to disappoint you."
But Erickson met his eyes steadily. "I'm told you're a resourceful man, Mr. Luthor. But so am I. You don't actually think I would have attempted something like this and not have a back-up plan, do you?" He smiled coldly. "I assure you, one way or another, you and this plant are no longer going to be around to harm the people in this town."
Erickson straightened up and glanced over at his accomplice. "I have work to do. You stay here and guard him. If he opens his mouth again, shoot him."
Brody still looked a little pale, but nodded. Erickson slung his own weapon over his shoulder and left the room, whistling softly.
Lex watched him go.
"He's insane. You know that, don't you?"
"Shut up."
Lex glanced over at the banks of monitors. The security office wasn't staffed in the evening, but electronic monitoring devices and video cameras recorded everything that happened on the plant grounds. Winters and Erickson had forced him at gunpoint to unlock the main gates, so no alarm had been triggered.
"I have security guards who patrol the perimeter of the plant," Lex told Brody.
The other man patted his gun. "Not tonight you don't. They've been taken care of for the moment."
"Did you kill them?"
Brody began pacing up and down. "I'm not a killer."
Lex knew when to push his advantage. "What about Pete Ross?"
Brody winced slightly. "Pete will be fine. He's safer where he is."
"Mr. Winters, please listen to me. I know you blame me for what happened, but."
"I said shut up!" Winters face went from white to an alarming reddish- purple. "I've heard enough out of people like you! 'Just wait and see what the police say, Brody.' 'Just let the courts handle things!' Well, I've been waiting for justice, and I haven't gotten any!"
"So you decided to take matter into your own hands. I understand that, Mr. Winters, I really do. But I don't know how many different ways I can tell you that neither I or my company had anything to do with the deaths in your family."
"Yeah, I know, it's all just a big coincidence," Brody sneered. "My dad worked for this company for almost fourteen years, being exposed to god- knows-what so you and your father could make millions." Brody pulled back the hammer on his rifle, and aimed it carefully at Lex's heart. "And before you and I both die, I just want to know what killed him."
Lex stared down the barrel of the rifle. "I can't tell you because I don't know."
"Liar. Do you really want to die with two deaths on your conscience?" His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Tell me."
"I don't know," Lex repeated.
Brody's face crumpled, and his hands shook with fury. "Liar!"
"He isn't lying," a calm voice said from behind him. "He can't tell you. But I can."
"We'll have to wait until we hear from Chloe, I guess," Clark shrugged. It was nice to have Lana pay him a visit again: now that she lived in town she didn't drop by as often as she used to. Of course, Clark didn't flatter himself too much-he knew she was here to find out the whole story behind their adventure at the Winters' place the night before. Apparently Chloe had given her only a hasty sketch over breakfast.
"It never ceases to amaze me the amount of trouble you three get into," Lana was shaking her head. "I got to spend my night pulling coffee drinks at the Talon."
"It really wasn't that big a deal," Clark offered. "We could be completely off base."
"It's ok, Clark, really." Lana laughed. "If Chloe had invited me along I probably would have chickened out before we got there anyway."
"I'm sure you wouldn't have," Clark corrected. For someone other people saw as perfect, it often surprised him how little confidence Lana had in her own abilities.
"Clark?"
"Up here, Mom."
Martha Kent appeared at the top of the stairs, the cordless phone in her hands. She looked troubled, and Clark stood up.
"What is it, Mom?"
"It's Mrs. Ross. She says Pete was due home two hours ago. She's been calling around town, but no one's seen him." She held out the phone to her son.
"Mrs. Ross?"
"Oh, Clark, I heard Martha telling you what happened. Have you seen Peter today?"
"He was at school, Mrs. Ross. After that.hold on, Lana's waving at me. She says he was at the Talon for awhile, and left around."
"5:30," Lana supplied
"5:30."
On the other end Pete's mother sighed heavily. "His father and I might just be overreacting, but with everything that's happened.Can you think of anywhere he might have gone? We've tried everyone we could think of."
"No. But it isn't really like Pete to just take off somewhere without telling anyone." Clark frowned. "Listen, I'll have a look out here. He was probably on his way out and his car broke down or something."
"Oh, you don't have to do that, Clark," Mrs. Ross said, but Clark could hear the hopefulness in her voice.
"I don't mind, Mrs. Ross. I'll call you when I find him."
"Thank you, Clark. You're a good friend."
As he hung up the phone, Clark looked at Lana and his mother, who were watching him with worried eyes.
"Pete's probably just stranded somewhere," Clark said with a lightness he didn't feel. "I said I'd check the roads out here."
Lana jumped to her feet. "Good idea. I'll drive."
Clark exchanged a quick glance with his mother.
"Lana, honey, it might be faster if Clark went by himself."
"Two pairs of eyes are better than one, Mrs. Kent," Lana laughed. "Besides, I know my way around out here at least as well as Clark does."
Clark shot his mother a helpless look, but Martha only shrugged.
Clark knew when he was beaten. "Fine. Great." He did his best to smile. **************************************
Pete awoke in total darkness with a splitting headache. He lay perfectly still, listening carefully; hearing nothing he tried to roll over onto his back, only to hit his head on something only an inch or two above him.
He swore loudly as pain knifed through his head again. When he tried to raise a hand to rub the spot, however, he realized his hands and feet were tied. He must be in a very small space, because he was already in a semi-fetal position and there didn't seem to be much room in which he could move.
"Hey! Anybody!" Pete yelled as loud as he could, and then paused, again listening for a response. When none came he laid his head back down and thought. The last thing he could remember was getting out of Lex's car, and being pushed at gunpoint towards the old Ford Brody Winters had been driving. Then the other man, who'd called himself Rich something, had swung his rifle up. There'd been a flash of pain, and then.
Well, that explained the headache, anyway. He must have been struck with the butt of the rifle. But where was he now, and what had happened to Lex? Whatever had gotten into Brody, Pete was sure he and the other guy meant business. Which might mean Lex was already dead, or dying, somewhere nearby. Pete didn't like the guy, but he knew had to do something.
Carefully, he felt around with his bound hands. The space he was in was only a few feet wide, and perhaps only a foot or two deep. It was suffocatingly warm. Pete was surprised to realize, as he ran his hands over the side closest to him, that it also appeared to be carpeted. On a hunch, he felt directly beneath him, where there seemed to be a hole in the floor.
They'd locked him in the trunk of the car. And judging from the cramped quarters it wasn't Lex's Ferrari.
Pete thought for a long moment. If Clark knew where he was, rescue might be eminent. Unfortunately, as far as he knew no one had seen he and Lex leave the Talon together. It might take hours for anyone to realize the two men were missing, and by then.
No, he couldn't lie here and hope Clark would find him. Clark had a lot of abilities, but he wasn't psychic. Pete's best hope was to get out and find help. Good thing he wasn't claustrophobic.
The problem was that there didn't seem to be anything useful in the trunk with him. He checked the hole were the spare tire should have been, hoping for a lug wrench, but the space was empty. There was what felt like a bundle of rope, probably the same stuff they'd used to tie him up, but that wasn't going to do him any good. His legs were asleep, and his hands were quickly following suit, but he finally hit pay dirt. The locking mechanism of the trunk felt rusty. None of the edges were sharp, but he rolled over on to his back anyway. Pete rubbed the ropes binding his arms against the latch, hoping that he'd been able to find the right spot in spite of the darkness.
As he worked, his wrists growing raw from the movement, he tried to calculate the time. The sun had just gone down when he and Lex had left town; if he was lucky it was past dinnertime by now and his folks would be looking for him. They would call Clark, and then hopefully Clark would come looking for him.
The minutes ticked by, and Pete grew increasingly frustrated. It never seemed to take this long on TV. But finally he could feel the ropes loosen as the top layers gave way, and with a bit more sawing he was able to wrench the bindings loose.
"Finally," he moaned, rubbing his wrists, which felt sticky with blood. As quickly as he could he reached down and tugged at the knots holding his feet until those, too, came undone.
"Hey, Clark! Anybody! Help!" He tried hollering again, but still no one came.
"C'mon, Clark, where are you? You're the one with the powers-this is your thing, not mine," he grumbled to himself. "What do I know about rescues? I can't even get myself out of a car trunk."
With sweat now running into his eyes from the exertion, Pete tried to force the lock open. But without any tools there was no way he could get the locking mechanism to open from the inside. He then tried ramming the trunk lid with his shoulder, they way they had practiced in football. Unfortunately, there proved to be a big difference between running into a stuffed dummy and running into a piece of sheet metal. Pete rested for a while, rubbing his shoulder.
He finally resorted to kicking at the lid with both feet, and on the sixth kick it finally gave way. With a squeal of rusted hinges the trunk lid swung open.
Pete looked around cautiously. The car was in some kind of paved driveway, but he could see cornfields on either side of him. No wonder no one had been able to hear him. The moon hung low in the sky.
He gingerly swung his sore legs over the side and stepped out of his prison. His muscles screamed for mercy, but he stayed low, peering around the side of the car. At the end of the driveway he could see the high fences of the LexCorp plant. The other old car was next to him; the Ferrari was gone. There was no sign of his abductors, or of Lex.
Pete supposed it was possible that Lex had somehow gotten away, but considering he'd been outnumbered two to one Pete didn't think he should bet on that. The three men must be inside the plant, but why?
He decided not to waste time contemplating that question. As best he could he took off at a run down the access road that wound its way toward the highway back into Smallville.
"Damn, Brody," he panted as he ran, "what are you thinking, man?" ************************************************
Under any other set of circumstance Clark would have been ecstatic about sharing a private truck ride in the moonlight with Lana Lang at his side. The problem was, though, that it was extremely difficult to scan the cornfields on either side of the rode without her noticing. Pete had told him had a tendency to squint a little when he used either his heat or his x- ray vision. In fact, Chloe had once seen him doing it and, mistaking the squint for nearsightedness, had told him he'd better schedule an eye exam.
They were about half a mile south of the Luthor mansion when he finally saw something.
"Lana, stop here."
As the truck slid to a halt Clark jumped out and ran to the side of the rode. He looked more carefully through the corn. He'd only caught the outline of a shape before, but now he could see it was a car.
"Clark, what is it?" Lana was out of breath from rushing to his side.
"Um, I thought I say something out here. See where those stalks of corn are torn up? Stay put for a second, ok?" Not wanting to give anything away, Clark pushed into the tall corn following the damaged stalks. The strange thing was that some appeared to have been hastily stood upright again. But why would someone bother doing that?
About fifteen yards off the rode he found the car. But it wasn't Pete's old one. It was Lex's Ferrari.
As quickly as he could he scanned the car, but he found no sign of a body, or of any damage to the vehicle. He breathed a loud sigh of relief; it wouldn't have been the first car Lex had totaled.
In the moonlight Clark walked around to the driver's side, where the window was partially rolled down. He didn't see anything suspicious inside, but on the dashboard the 'check engine' light was illuminated. And no wonder-- he could see the keys still dangling in the ignition, but the gas tank gauge was on empty. Clark fished out the keys, and studied the heavy gold "L" hanging on the key chain. It was Lex's car all right. But no Lex.
"Clark! What did you find?" Is it Pete?" In the distance Clark could hear Lana calling.
"No, it isn't Pete," he called back, hastily pushing he way back through the field. "It's Lex's car, but Lex isn't in it," he told Lana as he emerged back on to blacktop.
"Do you think he went off the road?" Lana asked worriedly.
"It's possible, I guess. But the car was in neutral and the keys were still in it. Lex would have locked it up before leaving it. I think we'd better call my dad and have him bring the sheriff out here."
As they walked back to the truck so Lana could grab her phone a black car passed them on the highway. A second later it swung around in a U turn and flashed its high beams at them, stopping just behind their truck.
Clark recognized it as one of Lex' Mercedes, but when the driver's side window rolled down it was Catherine Carter who was driving.
"I'm glad I caught up with you two. Clark's mom said you two were out here somewhere. Clark, Chloe just called me, and."
"Catherine, is Lex at the mansion?" Lana interrupted.
The older woman looked puzzled at the question. "No. Why?"
"We found his car out there," Clark gestured at the corn field, "but it isn't damaged and Lex isn't in it. Do you know where he might be now?"
"No. I mean, he was supposed to be at the hospital with A.J., but apparently he never showed up." She looked mildly annoyed. "I just figured he had to work late."
"This doesn't make any sense." Clark ran a hand through his hair. "Usually if Lex says he's going to be someplace he'll be there."
"Clark, I'm really worried. We definitely need to call the police," Lana said fretfully, flipping on her cell phone. "Shoot, I can't get a signal out here!"
"There's a relay tower south of our place, but I guess we're too far out of range. Why don't we." Clark trailed off as a sound carried to him from the distance. "What was that?"
"What was what?" Catherine asked.
"That." Clark listened closely again.
"I heard it that time," Lana nodded.
"It sounded like Pete." Clark glanced down the highway to the west, where he could just see a small figure in the distance. "I think it is Pete! Lana, let's go!"
Catherine nodded. "I'll follow you."
If Clark had been on his own he could have been there in an instant, but as it was it only took a few minutes to reach his friend.
Pete was standing by the side of the road, palms on his thighs, breathing hard. As the two cars pulled up he grinned widely.
"Man, am I glad to see you guys! I saw headlights in the distance but I just couldn't go any further."
Lana hugged him, and Clark took off his jacket and threw it around his friend. "Pete what happened?" He looked closely at his friend's dark hair. "Pete, you're bleeding!"
"I know. Check it out." Pete held up his raw wrists for inspection. "But that doesn't matter now-I think Lex is in trouble."
While Dr. Carter carefully examined Pete's head, he related the story as best he could.
"I think Brody's gone nuts. He and that other dude definitely looked like they had it out for Lex."
"You think Brody and Erickson took him to the plant? Why?" Clark asked.
"I dunno.ouch!"
"Sorry, Pete. It doesn't look like you need stitches, but the wound should be cleansed properly. And you'll need a head x-ray, just in case," Catherine sighed.
"Why don't you take Lana and Pete back into town," Clark advised. "I'm going out to the plant."
"Clark, you can't--it might be dangerous!" Lana said.
Pete gave his friend a knowing look. "No, Clark will be careful and not get too close. And, besides, someone needs to get the police. Lana, you need to drive-I'm a little bit dizzy."
Lana look torn for a moment, but her sympathy for Pete finally won out. "You're right, you're right." She helped Pete into the truck. "Clark, please be careful," he told him as she slid into the driver's seat.
"I will, I promise," he told her. He watched as the truck pulled away, Dr. Carter following in Lex' car. As soon as he was sure they were out of view he speed off into the fields.
He was already gone when the black car again swung around and followed him. *******************************************************
"Where is it Luthor? Answer me!"
Lex Luthor looked up into Rich Erickson's red face and smiled.
"Where's what?"
Erickson swung out hard with his right fist, knocking Lex's head back. Lex thought he could feel blood trickling from his nose, but since his hands were bound behind him he couldn't very well check.
Brody Winters stood to one side, his gun resting in the crook of his arm, steadfastly refusing to meet his eyes.
"There were almost a thousand pounds of ammonium nitrate stored in your warehouse, Luthor-I saw the invoices! Where is it now?" Erickson was so angry spittle was dripping down his chin as he yelled, but Lex refused to rise to the bait. He'd learned, being held at gunpoint more than once, that staying calm was usually one's best bet to stay alive.
"I merely took some minor security precautions," Lex told him smoothly. "Given the situation over the last few weeks I would have been remiss if I hadn't protected my own and my workers safety. The bags you're referring to have been stored safely off-site."
Lex shot a glance at his other captor.
"Mr. Winters, I hope you realize that whatever Mr. Erickson here has talked you into is not going to happen as you planned. If you turn Pete Ross and myself loose I can still help you."
Lex was genuinely concerned about Pete, who'd been struck on the head and stuffed rather unceremoniously into Winters' trunk. He didn't know how bad the injury was, and if anything happened to Ross the town would never let him live it down.
"Don't listen to him, Brody." Rich stared at Lex. "Haven't you done enough damage already?"
But Lex kept his eyes focused on Brody. "Haven't enough people been hurt, Brody? Do you really want to add to the body count?"
The other man winced, but Rich Erickson would not be cowed.
"Listen to him trying to talk his way out of this," he sneered. "You Luthors are pretty good at talking, aren't you? But you've never learned how to listen." He leaned close, his breath on Lex's face.
"Well, I say not enough people have been hurt, not if it hasn't made anything change. But you and I are going to fix that."
Lex raised his eyebrows. "Don't tell me. You're planning on martyring yourself for the cause, right? How noble. I assume you were planning on igniting our chemical warehouse and blowing us all to smithereens?" Lex smiled slightly. "Sorry to disappoint you."
But Erickson met his eyes steadily. "I'm told you're a resourceful man, Mr. Luthor. But so am I. You don't actually think I would have attempted something like this and not have a back-up plan, do you?" He smiled coldly. "I assure you, one way or another, you and this plant are no longer going to be around to harm the people in this town."
Erickson straightened up and glanced over at his accomplice. "I have work to do. You stay here and guard him. If he opens his mouth again, shoot him."
Brody still looked a little pale, but nodded. Erickson slung his own weapon over his shoulder and left the room, whistling softly.
Lex watched him go.
"He's insane. You know that, don't you?"
"Shut up."
Lex glanced over at the banks of monitors. The security office wasn't staffed in the evening, but electronic monitoring devices and video cameras recorded everything that happened on the plant grounds. Winters and Erickson had forced him at gunpoint to unlock the main gates, so no alarm had been triggered.
"I have security guards who patrol the perimeter of the plant," Lex told Brody.
The other man patted his gun. "Not tonight you don't. They've been taken care of for the moment."
"Did you kill them?"
Brody began pacing up and down. "I'm not a killer."
Lex knew when to push his advantage. "What about Pete Ross?"
Brody winced slightly. "Pete will be fine. He's safer where he is."
"Mr. Winters, please listen to me. I know you blame me for what happened, but."
"I said shut up!" Winters face went from white to an alarming reddish- purple. "I've heard enough out of people like you! 'Just wait and see what the police say, Brody.' 'Just let the courts handle things!' Well, I've been waiting for justice, and I haven't gotten any!"
"So you decided to take matter into your own hands. I understand that, Mr. Winters, I really do. But I don't know how many different ways I can tell you that neither I or my company had anything to do with the deaths in your family."
"Yeah, I know, it's all just a big coincidence," Brody sneered. "My dad worked for this company for almost fourteen years, being exposed to god- knows-what so you and your father could make millions." Brody pulled back the hammer on his rifle, and aimed it carefully at Lex's heart. "And before you and I both die, I just want to know what killed him."
Lex stared down the barrel of the rifle. "I can't tell you because I don't know."
"Liar. Do you really want to die with two deaths on your conscience?" His voice dropped almost to a whisper. "Tell me."
"I don't know," Lex repeated.
Brody's face crumpled, and his hands shook with fury. "Liar!"
"He isn't lying," a calm voice said from behind him. "He can't tell you. But I can."