Clark grabbed the nearest phone and checked for a tone. The outside lines were all dead too. "Did you bring your PDA in here? We could call the police."
"I left it in the car again!"
In the darkness, Clark saw Chloe throw her hands up in exasperation at her own lack of forethought. "We never called my parents; maybe they'll call the Sheriff when we don't ring." While he spoke he used his x-ray vision to see right through the wall out into the open front yard.
Whoever had really sent the e-mail hadn't been kidding. The white van had reappeared and was idling by the nearest curb. Two strangers sat in the front, patiently waiting for them to exit. So who sent the mail? Is it a trap? Are there two more goons out back?
Clark kept away from the window, but allowed his eyes to wander to the right, searching for Chloe's car. If they could still make a dash for it, it might be a good emergency option. The only problem was the car had vanished. That's how they were able to send the e-mail! They have Chloe's car…so how do we get out of this?
Chloe broke his concentration with more sarcasm. "I hate to say it, but by the time your parents realize and get here, we're most likely going to be long dead or worse…"
"We have to move, Chloe!" Clark grabbed her arm and pulled her ungracefully towards the locked door. He didn't ask what the 'or worse' part of her last sentence might mean." They'll expect us to be in here. We should risk it and go out the back way." And if they're waiting for us there, I guess I'll have to use my gifts in front of Chloe to save the day. That is, if I don't go weak again!
"But it must be a trap!" Whoa, now I am beginning to wonder if it wasn't Clark losing it about the flowers. How can he think going outside is a good idea? Chloe fumbled to unlock the door as her hands trembled with dread. In all the scenarios she'd thought of after saying she'd testify against Luthor, dying like this hadn't been one of them.
"Come on, we could put other people at risk if we make them come in the school after us."
Clark began jogging down the corridor and Chloe reluctantly followed. He does have a point. Why does he always have to be such a hero? She thought.
Two minutes later both teens emerged into the shadows outside Smallville High's back entrance. It was dark enough in the shade not to be spotted, but they'd need to move out into the open to even think about escaping.
"Now might be a good time for your parents to arrive and prove me wrong about them getting here too late." Chloe whispered as she shot Clark a worried glance. "There's no way we can get across the yard without being seen. And if we do, then what?"
Clark pointed carefully to a small hedgerow the caretaker had recently trimmed. A light vapor trail was billowing from the other side in the cool night air. It was impossible to see the vehicle by any normal means, but Clark had used his x-ray vision to determine that it was Chloe's little VW, and what's more it's engine was idling even without any keys being in the ignition.
"We don't need to cross the yard. Your car is behind those bushes!" The question is, who hotwired it, and why? He didn't voice his query, Chloe was freaked enough.
"Great, it could be just sitting there with a bomb taped to the floor, waiting for us to get in!"
Well no, I already checked the floor, but I guess I should have x-rayed the engine bay too…Clark squinted, about to resettle his studious gaze back on the car when a rumbling sound made him glance back.
Chloe had turned too, and was seriously in danger of emerging from the shadows; her inquisitive nature was so piqued. "I hate to say this, but isn't that sounding kinda like a truck?" An amazed expression crossed the tiny reporter's face as a brand new Mack DayCab Flatbed truck roared its way over the normally quiet school campus. Her jaw dropped almost as much as it had when she'd gotten home to hoards of flowers. "Okay, I give in. Maybe I am the one who's seeing things…"
"Nope, I see it too!" Clark pulled Chloe back from the edge of the gloom and watched as the truck's huge wheels and gigantic frame headed straight for the nearby hedgerow. It wasn't really hard to determine that it was Chloe's car that was the target. "They must think we're inside. We better keep low."
Chloe's fear turned to fury. "My car! I love that car!"
As she yelled out in temper the Beetle's engine revved hard and the VW shot forward, heading away from the main buildings as fast as it could accelerate. Its last minute dash was no match for the already hurtling truck, however and the heavy Mack slammed into the little car like it was a lightweight sardine can.
"Whoever sent you the mail must be in there!" This time it was Clark's turn to cry out as he realized what must be happening. Their phantom helper had just tried to play decoy and was paying a very expensive price. "I have to go try and help them!"
Clark dashed from his hiding place before Chloe had any chance of stopping him. As she watched, everything seemed to turn into some slow-motion nightmare.
The truck ground to a halt after pinning the VW to a classroom wall like a sledgehammer. Bricks toppled on its crumpled hood as the sheer brute force of impact began to take its toll on the building structure. Metal groaned and creaked in disgust as it was bent from its fabricated form into something resembling junkyard scrap.
Gasoline oozed from Chloe's car where the fuel tank had been ruptured, its nauseous aroma filling the area with highly flammable fumes. After an eternity-or what seemed like one, the flatbed revved again as its driver rammed the shift lever into reverse and frantically tried to escape the devastation he had caused.
Clark reached the scene just as the Mack sped back across the campus with its front grille covered in paint scrapes and dints. He had the chance to give chase, but it was never really an option. Someone must be trapped and hurt, maybe even dead in Chloe's car, and he had to do what he could.
Spinning around as the truck roared by, Clark set his sights on the remains of the Beetle as he jogged to its side. He could smell the gasoline as it ebbed from the torn tank, but it didn't deter him. I can't let someone die for trying to save us!
Just as the teen reached the car, a stray electrical spark caught the leaking fuel's edge. In a crescendo of heat and light, Clark managed one quick burst of x-ray vision before being blown backwards and into the air with the resulting explosion. As his arms flailed outwards and he landed with a grunt, only one thing raced through his disorientated mind. There was no one inside! The car was empty, but…
Any further thoughts on the matter were swiftly pushed away as Chloe raced to his side. "Clark!" The tiny blonde reporter fell to her knees and almost wept with joy to see her friend was still alive, "when I saw you so close and then the explosion…"
Clark stifled the urge to say he was okay. He'd said it so many times now it was beginning to sound repetitive, and besides, he didn't feel okay. Not one bit.
Somehow since the blast his weakness had returned. Not an all-draining sensation like being sat next to a pure meteor rock, but debilitating nonetheless. He struggled to pull his sapped body up and found he was panting with the exertion.
Chloe noticed in an instant. "I'll go get some help. I don't think you should move." She quickly fumbled to undo his shirt collar, and then looked him over for signs of injury. When there was nothing obvious she couldn't help but give him a slight hug.
"I'm not hurt, Chloe. I just need to catch my breath." Clark glanced over Chloe's shoulder to her still burning car. Eerie flames leapt from its smoldering frame, giving off an uncanny hue to the evening. There really hadn't been anyone behind the wheel, so where had their savior gone? I guess they could have jumped clear…or is all this part of the plan? Maybe they really do want us to think we're going crazy! He squeezed Chloe's arms, returning her affection, and then gently pulled away.
The police would be showing up soon, and maybe their unwanted friend in the Mack truck might decide to come pay them a return visit and finish the job. Chloe was thinking the same thing. "I'll go get some help, but we shouldn't stay out here in the open."
"Give me a hand up, I can make it back inside." Clark shot her a reassuring glance, but had to lean heavily on the reporter's arm to stand up. Even then he wavered as his balance seemed strangely impaired. What on earth is affecting me? I'm not near any rocks, not unless Chloe's taken to carrying one around in her purse!
"I don't think you need to be going inside." A familiar voice, at least to Chloe, stopped both teens in their laborious attempt to get in the main school building.
Chloe winced before she even saw the face of the man behind them. It was most definitely 'Mr. Blonde' from the Turner building, and she doubted he was here for fun.
Clark raised a brow as they both turned around, but had no clue who the newcomer might be. "Chloe?" He asked, sensing her silence wasn't a good omen.
"I think," Chloe offered, "that this is one of our friendly neighborhood pursuers, and I'm guessing he's not too happy."
Mr. Blonde held a small Glock pistol and was pointing it in their direction. At his side was the other goon from earlier. Neither appeared in a sociable mood.
The gun wavered in Mr. Blonde's hand, "Into the van."