Chapter 13
Lex slept soundly in his bed, while Lionel and Clark looked on, exhausted from the events of last night. For perhaps the thousandth time, Lionel rubbed his temples, sighed, and shook his head. "What am I going to do...?"
Clark spoke softly. "The plant I had with me... It can cure him."
Lionel's eyes locked onto Clark. "The plant?"
He nodded. "It's been tested. Make a tea or a juice from the leaves and it banishes the curse out of his system. I... tried it."
"You mean to tell me that you became into that thing?"
Clark nodded.
"How can I trust you?"
"I saved your life several times, last night, Mr. Luthor. And not once did I turn into the wolf. The plant works, whether you believe that or not," defended Clark.
Lionel chuckled, "Well, that's fine, but as you are well aware of, I do not possess the plant anymore. It's still in the limo that ditched us. It's funny how every time I get my hands on something of value, other than money, it slips away from me – either stolen or lost forever. Do you have that kind of luck, Clark?"
Clark shrugged. "I can't say I particularly do."
"No, no, of course not." Lionel yawned. "All my limos have tracking devices, but the GPS system is all the way in Metropolis. We could find it faster on foot that flying all the way back to the city."
Clark thought the idea over for a second before coming up with an excuse for leaving. "My parents are probably worried. I better go home and let them know I'm okay."
"Yes, you do that. Give my regards to your parents."
Clark left, prompting Lionel to pick up the phone. He dialed a number and waited two rings before someone on the other end answered. "This is Lionel. I need the National Guard to come to Smallville, Kansas. There's been a massacre and the citizens could use comfort."
* * *
It would take Clark forever to search every square inch of woods and fields in Smallville to find the limo. He needed a faster way or a clue as to where the limo might have gone.
He guessed that the driver would want to wait until the situation cooled down, or to see if Lionel had died. Then he might make up a story where he actually played the hero. He'd want something to drown his conscience, too. Clark guessed immediately that limo driver had gone to the Wild Coyote, a bar on the edge of town.
Sure enough, when he arrived there, he saw a black stretched car parked neatly outside, eyeballed by a couple of bikers. Clark brushed past them and tried to get to the car, but one of them grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
"Yew was with that guy, lass' week. That no good sonuva bitch reporter guy. What was his name? Black?" asked the thug, drunk. He was, of course, talking about Perry White. Clark could only imagine what Perry had done to offend this guy, but he decided not to take chances. He shrugged the thug's hand off of his shoulder and gently knocked him out. The other thug tried to attack Clark, but he shoved him (lightly) into the sidewalk.
"I'm not in a good mood right now, boys," warned Clark. He x-rayed the car and found the plant still nestled in the corner of the seat where he'd been sitting. He found the alarm system and burned it with his heat vision, rendering it useless.
He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and punched through the window. No alarm went off, so he picked up the plant and sped away.
When the limo driver came back outside, he cursed at the damage and furiously went back inside to call a taxi to take him to Grandville, which was hopefully far away enough to escape Lionel's wrath, but he doubted it.
* * *
Clark dropped off the plant at the Luthor Mansion, along with a note explaining where the limo was and suggestions for how to "take" the plant.
After that, Clark sped home, confronted by his very worried parents in the kitchen.
"Clark, where were you?" asked Martha.
"Everywhere. It's a long story," explained Clark.
"Well, we want to hear it," demanded Jonathon. The doorbell interrupted him. He sighed and went to the door to see who it was.
It was the paperboy, eager to give them the paper.
"Morning, Jimmy," greeted Jonathon. "Sun's already up, why's the paper so late?"
"They stopped the presses for the front page news," told Jimmy. "Check it out!"
Jonathon quickly read the headline. "HALF OF POLICE FORCE SLAUGHTERED!" A headline in smaller print read: "WORK OF THE DEVIL?"
"Oh my God... Thanks, Jimmy." Jonathon closed the door and slammed the paper on the table for Clark and Martha to read.
"That's horrible!" cried Martha. "Clark, did you know about this?"
Clark nodded. "Yeah... it's one of the worst things I've ever seen. I couldn't really... just bring it up out of the blue."
"Were you there?" asked Jonathon.
"No."
"Do you know who did this?"
"My best guess is Edward. When I got there, the other half were werewolves."
"Well, you're going to have to tell them about the plant you got from Edward's house. Who'd you take it to, anyway?" asked Jonathon.
Clark looked at the floor, afraid to look at his father. "Lionel."
"Lionel Luthor?! Son, you've got to be kidding me! That's the last person on Earth you want to be dealing with! You would know that almost as well as I would!" argued Jonathon.
"Lex is his son and he's one of them. I thought Lionel would help me," explained Clark. "I didn't have many other choices, dad. Besides... he unintentionally helped me find this."
Clark placed the key on the table.
"Where'd you find this?" asked Martha.
"In the caves. We know that if we put it into the spaceship – before I destroyed it – it would heal anyone in the area. We also know that if we put into the hole in the caves, it 'downloads' the Kryptonian language into the person that puts the key in the hole. The hole's sealed up, and you guys say it's been that way since I left," Clark flinched before continuing. "What's it doing down there now?"
Jonathon took it from the table and began to leave to go put it away.
"Dad? Something you want to tell us?"
"It's how I talked to your biological father," he admitted.
"Dad?"
"That's all there is to it, son!"
"Dad!" Clark called after him, but Jonathon was already on his way to the barn.
Martha assured Clark. "It'll... it'll be alright."
Clark shook his head. "No it's not. And I still have to talk to the police about this. I'll be back."
Clark disappeared.
* * *
Lionel smiled as the first helicopter landed. A middle-aged woman about half a foot shorter than him with brunette hair and brown eyes stepped out to greet him – but it wasn't the friendly sort of greeting.
"You're not going to make calling the National Guard into farm towns a habit, are you Mr. Luthor?" she asked him.
"No, I should hope not," he smiled.
"It scares me how much power you have, Luthor. You're actually able to call us in and you're on a first-name basis with the President. If we gave you a seat in Congress, there'd be no stopping you."
"For now, Sergeant Willows, I'm quite happy with my businessman position."
Sgt. Willows shook her head and walked with him away from the landing zone. "So what seems to be the problem?"
"As I explained before, half of the police force is dead and the other half is too traumatized to effectively carry out their jobs."
Willows chuckled, "This is a farm town, Luthor. The most they have to worry about is pick-pockets and high school pranks."
Lionel stopped and looked at her dead in the eye. "You clearly have not been well enough briefed on Smallville. October 1989 – the Meteor Shower."
"I'm aware of that event, Lionel, but even then, they didn't call in the National Guard; they brought in the state troops."
"A sad mistake. Since then, a plethora of strange events have sprung up. Two years ago, someone masqueraded as my son robbed the bank. I might also add that that incident was not the first nor the last time the bank was robbed. That same year, my local fertilizer plant was held hostage –"
"I hear that was your fault," interrupted Willows.
Lionel grunted and continued, "I could go on. Bug boys, psychotic killers, criminals – everything – have darkened Smallville's soul. You guys should have been here long ago."
"You speak quite passionately, Lionel, and we're not even talking about Metropolis. Calm down, we're here already. But why do I think you have an ulterior motive for calling us in?"
"Not what I would call an 'ulterior motive', Sgt., but rather a convenience. If possible, I'd like to arrange an immediate visit to Ireland..."
* * *
Clark arrived at the town square just in time to see Lionel getting onboard a helicopter. Acting on impulse, Clark ran underneath the helicopter and climbed onto the bottom.
He had no idea where it was going.
He didn't even have any idea why he did it.
But pretty soon, they were too high up for Clark to even have thought about letting go.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the woods, a mysterious figure cowers on the ground, twitching uncontrollably. He is sad because he does not have a home or at least a place to stay. He is sad because he killed over a dozen men just satisfy his own hunger. He is sad... because he hasn't changed back into a human.
He's Edward.
Lex slept soundly in his bed, while Lionel and Clark looked on, exhausted from the events of last night. For perhaps the thousandth time, Lionel rubbed his temples, sighed, and shook his head. "What am I going to do...?"
Clark spoke softly. "The plant I had with me... It can cure him."
Lionel's eyes locked onto Clark. "The plant?"
He nodded. "It's been tested. Make a tea or a juice from the leaves and it banishes the curse out of his system. I... tried it."
"You mean to tell me that you became into that thing?"
Clark nodded.
"How can I trust you?"
"I saved your life several times, last night, Mr. Luthor. And not once did I turn into the wolf. The plant works, whether you believe that or not," defended Clark.
Lionel chuckled, "Well, that's fine, but as you are well aware of, I do not possess the plant anymore. It's still in the limo that ditched us. It's funny how every time I get my hands on something of value, other than money, it slips away from me – either stolen or lost forever. Do you have that kind of luck, Clark?"
Clark shrugged. "I can't say I particularly do."
"No, no, of course not." Lionel yawned. "All my limos have tracking devices, but the GPS system is all the way in Metropolis. We could find it faster on foot that flying all the way back to the city."
Clark thought the idea over for a second before coming up with an excuse for leaving. "My parents are probably worried. I better go home and let them know I'm okay."
"Yes, you do that. Give my regards to your parents."
Clark left, prompting Lionel to pick up the phone. He dialed a number and waited two rings before someone on the other end answered. "This is Lionel. I need the National Guard to come to Smallville, Kansas. There's been a massacre and the citizens could use comfort."
* * *
It would take Clark forever to search every square inch of woods and fields in Smallville to find the limo. He needed a faster way or a clue as to where the limo might have gone.
He guessed that the driver would want to wait until the situation cooled down, or to see if Lionel had died. Then he might make up a story where he actually played the hero. He'd want something to drown his conscience, too. Clark guessed immediately that limo driver had gone to the Wild Coyote, a bar on the edge of town.
Sure enough, when he arrived there, he saw a black stretched car parked neatly outside, eyeballed by a couple of bikers. Clark brushed past them and tried to get to the car, but one of them grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.
"Yew was with that guy, lass' week. That no good sonuva bitch reporter guy. What was his name? Black?" asked the thug, drunk. He was, of course, talking about Perry White. Clark could only imagine what Perry had done to offend this guy, but he decided not to take chances. He shrugged the thug's hand off of his shoulder and gently knocked him out. The other thug tried to attack Clark, but he shoved him (lightly) into the sidewalk.
"I'm not in a good mood right now, boys," warned Clark. He x-rayed the car and found the plant still nestled in the corner of the seat where he'd been sitting. He found the alarm system and burned it with his heat vision, rendering it useless.
He glanced around to make sure no one was looking and punched through the window. No alarm went off, so he picked up the plant and sped away.
When the limo driver came back outside, he cursed at the damage and furiously went back inside to call a taxi to take him to Grandville, which was hopefully far away enough to escape Lionel's wrath, but he doubted it.
* * *
Clark dropped off the plant at the Luthor Mansion, along with a note explaining where the limo was and suggestions for how to "take" the plant.
After that, Clark sped home, confronted by his very worried parents in the kitchen.
"Clark, where were you?" asked Martha.
"Everywhere. It's a long story," explained Clark.
"Well, we want to hear it," demanded Jonathon. The doorbell interrupted him. He sighed and went to the door to see who it was.
It was the paperboy, eager to give them the paper.
"Morning, Jimmy," greeted Jonathon. "Sun's already up, why's the paper so late?"
"They stopped the presses for the front page news," told Jimmy. "Check it out!"
Jonathon quickly read the headline. "HALF OF POLICE FORCE SLAUGHTERED!" A headline in smaller print read: "WORK OF THE DEVIL?"
"Oh my God... Thanks, Jimmy." Jonathon closed the door and slammed the paper on the table for Clark and Martha to read.
"That's horrible!" cried Martha. "Clark, did you know about this?"
Clark nodded. "Yeah... it's one of the worst things I've ever seen. I couldn't really... just bring it up out of the blue."
"Were you there?" asked Jonathon.
"No."
"Do you know who did this?"
"My best guess is Edward. When I got there, the other half were werewolves."
"Well, you're going to have to tell them about the plant you got from Edward's house. Who'd you take it to, anyway?" asked Jonathon.
Clark looked at the floor, afraid to look at his father. "Lionel."
"Lionel Luthor?! Son, you've got to be kidding me! That's the last person on Earth you want to be dealing with! You would know that almost as well as I would!" argued Jonathon.
"Lex is his son and he's one of them. I thought Lionel would help me," explained Clark. "I didn't have many other choices, dad. Besides... he unintentionally helped me find this."
Clark placed the key on the table.
"Where'd you find this?" asked Martha.
"In the caves. We know that if we put it into the spaceship – before I destroyed it – it would heal anyone in the area. We also know that if we put into the hole in the caves, it 'downloads' the Kryptonian language into the person that puts the key in the hole. The hole's sealed up, and you guys say it's been that way since I left," Clark flinched before continuing. "What's it doing down there now?"
Jonathon took it from the table and began to leave to go put it away.
"Dad? Something you want to tell us?"
"It's how I talked to your biological father," he admitted.
"Dad?"
"That's all there is to it, son!"
"Dad!" Clark called after him, but Jonathon was already on his way to the barn.
Martha assured Clark. "It'll... it'll be alright."
Clark shook his head. "No it's not. And I still have to talk to the police about this. I'll be back."
Clark disappeared.
* * *
Lionel smiled as the first helicopter landed. A middle-aged woman about half a foot shorter than him with brunette hair and brown eyes stepped out to greet him – but it wasn't the friendly sort of greeting.
"You're not going to make calling the National Guard into farm towns a habit, are you Mr. Luthor?" she asked him.
"No, I should hope not," he smiled.
"It scares me how much power you have, Luthor. You're actually able to call us in and you're on a first-name basis with the President. If we gave you a seat in Congress, there'd be no stopping you."
"For now, Sergeant Willows, I'm quite happy with my businessman position."
Sgt. Willows shook her head and walked with him away from the landing zone. "So what seems to be the problem?"
"As I explained before, half of the police force is dead and the other half is too traumatized to effectively carry out their jobs."
Willows chuckled, "This is a farm town, Luthor. The most they have to worry about is pick-pockets and high school pranks."
Lionel stopped and looked at her dead in the eye. "You clearly have not been well enough briefed on Smallville. October 1989 – the Meteor Shower."
"I'm aware of that event, Lionel, but even then, they didn't call in the National Guard; they brought in the state troops."
"A sad mistake. Since then, a plethora of strange events have sprung up. Two years ago, someone masqueraded as my son robbed the bank. I might also add that that incident was not the first nor the last time the bank was robbed. That same year, my local fertilizer plant was held hostage –"
"I hear that was your fault," interrupted Willows.
Lionel grunted and continued, "I could go on. Bug boys, psychotic killers, criminals – everything – have darkened Smallville's soul. You guys should have been here long ago."
"You speak quite passionately, Lionel, and we're not even talking about Metropolis. Calm down, we're here already. But why do I think you have an ulterior motive for calling us in?"
"Not what I would call an 'ulterior motive', Sgt., but rather a convenience. If possible, I'd like to arrange an immediate visit to Ireland..."
* * *
Clark arrived at the town square just in time to see Lionel getting onboard a helicopter. Acting on impulse, Clark ran underneath the helicopter and climbed onto the bottom.
He had no idea where it was going.
He didn't even have any idea why he did it.
But pretty soon, they were too high up for Clark to even have thought about letting go.
* * *
Meanwhile, in the woods, a mysterious figure cowers on the ground, twitching uncontrollably. He is sad because he does not have a home or at least a place to stay. He is sad because he killed over a dozen men just satisfy his own hunger. He is sad... because he hasn't changed back into a human.
He's Edward.