Chapter 15
Clark quickly analyzed the situation in his head. He'd been doing that a lot, lately. There were about five wolves hidden in the trees in front of him, and he'd heard about three distinctly different growls coming from behind them. He was right in the middle of a giant forest in a foreign country with no weapons or any means of getting help other than his cell phone, which at the moment, did not seem like the smartest thing to take out and use.
"Easy there, fella's. Easy now," murmured Clark to the wolves.
Then, Clark realized, at the worst possible moment, that if Lionel had come to Ireland, he'd probably be here looking for more miracle plants. If he was looking for more, then that must have meant that there was not enough to cure all of those who'd been cursed back in Smallville. Meaning that there were still werewolves rampant, and he wasn't there to protect the innocents.
Clark swore aloud.
Knowing he'd need a distraction of some sort, Clark fired a blast of heat vision at a nearby tree, causing it to explode. Taken advantage of the surprise, Clark dashed away from the wolves and ran north. At least, he hoped it was north.
He'd gone about a mile when two new wolves cut him off. He was prepared to fight his way through when two gunshots went off, striking both wolves in the head. They swayed, and then collapsed to the ground, dead.
Clark looked up to see who had shot them. It was a man, quite beefy with a blond moustache and thinning hair. He yelled at Clark, "If you want to live, it'd be smart to come with me."
Taking his advice, Clark followed the man through a small path through even more trees. At the end of the path were a wide clearing and a jeep. They got inside and sped away, leaving the wolves far behind.
* * *
"They could catch us, but they often choose not to waste their energy," explained the man. "M'name's Ellem, by the way. You got a name?"
"Uh, Clark Kent, sir," introduced Clark.
"Huh. I've never met a Clark before. I've never met a Kent before, either. What are you, some sort of farm boy running around in farm boots and flannel?"
"Uh... Yes, sir."
"Ellem. 'Sir' is too formal. So you are a farm boy, eh? I don't see a lot of them here, or at least not in this part of the country." Ellem drove the jeep through a bog, and miraculously made it through without sinking. Ellem noted Clark's surprise. "When you drive on terrain like this, you pick up shortcuts, like elevated land."
They reached the end of the forest and found a main road. The silence finally ended when Clark asked Ellem where they were going.
"A town not far from here. I own a bar, but there's a suitable apartment upstairs where you can stay. Least until you tell me what you were doing out in the woods."
"I'm looking for a plant that can cure my friends."
Ellem chuckled. "Oh. Well you're not going to find it in the forest. Nah, that only place left where it grows is on private property, owned by Wayne Industries, or WayneCorp, or one of those. I forgot."
"You know where I can find the plant?" asked Clark, surprised.
"Well, yeah. Didn't I just tell you I did? But the scientists and Wayne Foundation are all over them, thinking they can find a universal medicine that can cure anything."
"Can it?"
"Nope. All it can do is treat the local werewolf bite. That is what's wrong with your friends, right?"
"Yes."
"Hah. I knew it. Yeah, I tried to tell Wayne Enterprises that they were on a wild goose chase, but those guys just don't listen. I'm sure they'll spare you a plant. First they'll put you on a waiting list, for like, ten years. Then, of course, they'll expect a million dollars for one seedling, which you have to grow with your own fertilizer, that can be conveniently bought at the gift shop," rambled Ellem. "And of course by then, it'll be too late for your friend. It probably already is."
"Why?"
"Okay, kid, let me just warn you: the rules for this werewolf gig aren't exactly fair. You think you have enough information to write a documentary on the wolves and then suddenly, one little fact turns out false. And in turn, it contradicts all the other stuff. There are only a couple of facts etched in stone."
Clark sighed, "And they are?"
"Silver will take down a wolf. A bite is enough to give you the curse. And, the werewolves possess incredible speed and strength, but over the years, some nuts swear they'll see a wolf blowing down houses. Or shooting fire out of their eyes."
Clark gulped. "They sound powerful."
"Yeah. Anyhow, it used to be that the wolves only came out during the full moon. Now, that's only partly true. Eh, hang on."
The jeep arrived at an armored gate guarded by a lone guard who had a shotgun laid across his lap. The guard saw the jeep, got up, and leaned out the window of his sentry box. "That you, Ellem?"
"Yeah, it's me, Max. Mind letting me in?"
"Who's the passenger?"
"A sheep, like the rest of us."
"Alright." He returned to his seat and pressed a button on his control panel. The gate opened, allowing the jeep to drive in.
"What did you mean when you called me a sheep?" asked Clark.
"It means you're human, and not a wolf. Of course, sometimes we get wolves in sheep's clothing, but they're pretty rare. Most werewolves are in their wolf form at night and can't repress the curse," explained Ellem. "The gate's to keep out wolves, and does an okay enough job. The town's right over this hill."
The jeep drove into town and stopped in front of a crowded bar. They got of the car and stepped inside the bar. The bartender smiled and waved a beer mug. "Hey, Ellem! We won the match!"
"What was the final score?"
"18-5! Take that, Germany!" laughed the bartender.
"Alright, Ian, good to hear!"
The bar actually reminded Clark a lot of the Talon in a weird sort of way. Young couples occupied the corners, while the drunks struggled to stand up, crowding around the television. Clark looked at Ellem, "What's everyone so excited about?"
"Football! Ireland beat Germany!" roared Ellem.
Clark responded shyly, "I... I didn't know you guys had football over here."
Ellem stared at Clark like he was an alien, and considering Clark fell from the stars in a spaceship, there was much irony in the look. "America. That's where you're from. Kid, you actually had me fooled. I can't believe I thought you were Irish. I must be drunk."
Clark looked over at the television set. It was a replay of point made earlier that night. The audience cheered and yelled, "Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!"
Clark's cheeks became a bright red as he realized what sport they had been talking about: Soccer.
"The worldwide tournament's over, but we still got some international games going on," noted Ellem.
Ian, the bartender, finally noticed Clark. "Hey, Ellem! I know you own the place, but it's not exactly fair for the rest of us to have a minor hanging around."
Ellem nodded. "The boy needs a place to stay. Well, okay, I really don't know if he does, but he hasn't argued yet. I'm taking him upstairs."
Ellem led Clark up a flight of stairs in the back and showed him the apartment, which was small compared to the one at the Talon. "It's not much, but it'll do. Where are my manners? You need to use the phone?"
"Um, no, I better not. Listen, can you tell me any more about the werewolves?" asked Clark.
"Oh, sure. I could drone on for hours. But I'll try to keep it short. The full moon triggers the transformations. Since a victim is usually bitten on a full moon, he'll most likely transform into one himself the next night, but it'll only last until a crescent moon. Then, he'll have a bit less than a month of peaceful nights. But once the full moon rolls in again, he'll be changing again and again."
"Yeah, that happens in the movies."
Ellem shook his head, "It's more complicated than that. If the victim's not treated for a werewolf bite, then on the end of the second full moon cycle, he's a wolf for good. No reverse transformations – not even in the day. In the day, they usually go look for a cave to take shelter in, but they never, ever stand on two legs again."
"Literally? The wolf I fou- I mean, met, could switch between a 'natural wolf' and some sort of wolf-man cross."
Ellem shrugged. "Like I said, where this curse is involved, nothing's set in stone. Anyhow, as far as I know, the full moon cycle is up. The only wolves you'll find around here are the poor, unlucky saps that didn't get cured in time. They rarely ever do. Now, why don't you tell me about you and your wolf problem?"
"I'm from Kansas. This new kid moved in and my friends and I suspected there was something different about him. It turns out he was a werewolf. He bit my best friend, and between the two of them caused a lot of damage. Now half of the police force is under this 'curse'. I'm afraid the whole town my suffer."
Ellem shook his head. "Right now, you shouldn't have to worry. It's when the full moon comes back up in the night sky that you should be panicking. The best you can do is try and see if you can get some of the plants and get those policemen cured. By the way, what are you doing in Ireland, besides searching for the plant? How'd you get here? Where are your folks?"
"I kind of... stowed away. I'll tell you more tomorrow," murmured Clark. He glanced over at the guest bed and sat on it. Ellem was already at the doorway, ready to leave. "Thanks... for everything."
"Ah. I'm a softie."
Clark quickly analyzed the situation in his head. He'd been doing that a lot, lately. There were about five wolves hidden in the trees in front of him, and he'd heard about three distinctly different growls coming from behind them. He was right in the middle of a giant forest in a foreign country with no weapons or any means of getting help other than his cell phone, which at the moment, did not seem like the smartest thing to take out and use.
"Easy there, fella's. Easy now," murmured Clark to the wolves.
Then, Clark realized, at the worst possible moment, that if Lionel had come to Ireland, he'd probably be here looking for more miracle plants. If he was looking for more, then that must have meant that there was not enough to cure all of those who'd been cursed back in Smallville. Meaning that there were still werewolves rampant, and he wasn't there to protect the innocents.
Clark swore aloud.
Knowing he'd need a distraction of some sort, Clark fired a blast of heat vision at a nearby tree, causing it to explode. Taken advantage of the surprise, Clark dashed away from the wolves and ran north. At least, he hoped it was north.
He'd gone about a mile when two new wolves cut him off. He was prepared to fight his way through when two gunshots went off, striking both wolves in the head. They swayed, and then collapsed to the ground, dead.
Clark looked up to see who had shot them. It was a man, quite beefy with a blond moustache and thinning hair. He yelled at Clark, "If you want to live, it'd be smart to come with me."
Taking his advice, Clark followed the man through a small path through even more trees. At the end of the path were a wide clearing and a jeep. They got inside and sped away, leaving the wolves far behind.
* * *
"They could catch us, but they often choose not to waste their energy," explained the man. "M'name's Ellem, by the way. You got a name?"
"Uh, Clark Kent, sir," introduced Clark.
"Huh. I've never met a Clark before. I've never met a Kent before, either. What are you, some sort of farm boy running around in farm boots and flannel?"
"Uh... Yes, sir."
"Ellem. 'Sir' is too formal. So you are a farm boy, eh? I don't see a lot of them here, or at least not in this part of the country." Ellem drove the jeep through a bog, and miraculously made it through without sinking. Ellem noted Clark's surprise. "When you drive on terrain like this, you pick up shortcuts, like elevated land."
They reached the end of the forest and found a main road. The silence finally ended when Clark asked Ellem where they were going.
"A town not far from here. I own a bar, but there's a suitable apartment upstairs where you can stay. Least until you tell me what you were doing out in the woods."
"I'm looking for a plant that can cure my friends."
Ellem chuckled. "Oh. Well you're not going to find it in the forest. Nah, that only place left where it grows is on private property, owned by Wayne Industries, or WayneCorp, or one of those. I forgot."
"You know where I can find the plant?" asked Clark, surprised.
"Well, yeah. Didn't I just tell you I did? But the scientists and Wayne Foundation are all over them, thinking they can find a universal medicine that can cure anything."
"Can it?"
"Nope. All it can do is treat the local werewolf bite. That is what's wrong with your friends, right?"
"Yes."
"Hah. I knew it. Yeah, I tried to tell Wayne Enterprises that they were on a wild goose chase, but those guys just don't listen. I'm sure they'll spare you a plant. First they'll put you on a waiting list, for like, ten years. Then, of course, they'll expect a million dollars for one seedling, which you have to grow with your own fertilizer, that can be conveniently bought at the gift shop," rambled Ellem. "And of course by then, it'll be too late for your friend. It probably already is."
"Why?"
"Okay, kid, let me just warn you: the rules for this werewolf gig aren't exactly fair. You think you have enough information to write a documentary on the wolves and then suddenly, one little fact turns out false. And in turn, it contradicts all the other stuff. There are only a couple of facts etched in stone."
Clark sighed, "And they are?"
"Silver will take down a wolf. A bite is enough to give you the curse. And, the werewolves possess incredible speed and strength, but over the years, some nuts swear they'll see a wolf blowing down houses. Or shooting fire out of their eyes."
Clark gulped. "They sound powerful."
"Yeah. Anyhow, it used to be that the wolves only came out during the full moon. Now, that's only partly true. Eh, hang on."
The jeep arrived at an armored gate guarded by a lone guard who had a shotgun laid across his lap. The guard saw the jeep, got up, and leaned out the window of his sentry box. "That you, Ellem?"
"Yeah, it's me, Max. Mind letting me in?"
"Who's the passenger?"
"A sheep, like the rest of us."
"Alright." He returned to his seat and pressed a button on his control panel. The gate opened, allowing the jeep to drive in.
"What did you mean when you called me a sheep?" asked Clark.
"It means you're human, and not a wolf. Of course, sometimes we get wolves in sheep's clothing, but they're pretty rare. Most werewolves are in their wolf form at night and can't repress the curse," explained Ellem. "The gate's to keep out wolves, and does an okay enough job. The town's right over this hill."
The jeep drove into town and stopped in front of a crowded bar. They got of the car and stepped inside the bar. The bartender smiled and waved a beer mug. "Hey, Ellem! We won the match!"
"What was the final score?"
"18-5! Take that, Germany!" laughed the bartender.
"Alright, Ian, good to hear!"
The bar actually reminded Clark a lot of the Talon in a weird sort of way. Young couples occupied the corners, while the drunks struggled to stand up, crowding around the television. Clark looked at Ellem, "What's everyone so excited about?"
"Football! Ireland beat Germany!" roared Ellem.
Clark responded shyly, "I... I didn't know you guys had football over here."
Ellem stared at Clark like he was an alien, and considering Clark fell from the stars in a spaceship, there was much irony in the look. "America. That's where you're from. Kid, you actually had me fooled. I can't believe I thought you were Irish. I must be drunk."
Clark looked over at the television set. It was a replay of point made earlier that night. The audience cheered and yelled, "Goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooal!"
Clark's cheeks became a bright red as he realized what sport they had been talking about: Soccer.
"The worldwide tournament's over, but we still got some international games going on," noted Ellem.
Ian, the bartender, finally noticed Clark. "Hey, Ellem! I know you own the place, but it's not exactly fair for the rest of us to have a minor hanging around."
Ellem nodded. "The boy needs a place to stay. Well, okay, I really don't know if he does, but he hasn't argued yet. I'm taking him upstairs."
Ellem led Clark up a flight of stairs in the back and showed him the apartment, which was small compared to the one at the Talon. "It's not much, but it'll do. Where are my manners? You need to use the phone?"
"Um, no, I better not. Listen, can you tell me any more about the werewolves?" asked Clark.
"Oh, sure. I could drone on for hours. But I'll try to keep it short. The full moon triggers the transformations. Since a victim is usually bitten on a full moon, he'll most likely transform into one himself the next night, but it'll only last until a crescent moon. Then, he'll have a bit less than a month of peaceful nights. But once the full moon rolls in again, he'll be changing again and again."
"Yeah, that happens in the movies."
Ellem shook his head, "It's more complicated than that. If the victim's not treated for a werewolf bite, then on the end of the second full moon cycle, he's a wolf for good. No reverse transformations – not even in the day. In the day, they usually go look for a cave to take shelter in, but they never, ever stand on two legs again."
"Literally? The wolf I fou- I mean, met, could switch between a 'natural wolf' and some sort of wolf-man cross."
Ellem shrugged. "Like I said, where this curse is involved, nothing's set in stone. Anyhow, as far as I know, the full moon cycle is up. The only wolves you'll find around here are the poor, unlucky saps that didn't get cured in time. They rarely ever do. Now, why don't you tell me about you and your wolf problem?"
"I'm from Kansas. This new kid moved in and my friends and I suspected there was something different about him. It turns out he was a werewolf. He bit my best friend, and between the two of them caused a lot of damage. Now half of the police force is under this 'curse'. I'm afraid the whole town my suffer."
Ellem shook his head. "Right now, you shouldn't have to worry. It's when the full moon comes back up in the night sky that you should be panicking. The best you can do is try and see if you can get some of the plants and get those policemen cured. By the way, what are you doing in Ireland, besides searching for the plant? How'd you get here? Where are your folks?"
"I kind of... stowed away. I'll tell you more tomorrow," murmured Clark. He glanced over at the guest bed and sat on it. Ellem was already at the doorway, ready to leave. "Thanks... for everything."
"Ah. I'm a softie."