The instant Lois' yelp of terror rang out; Clark's ears had detected and recognized it. He put a hand up to stop Chloe in mid-sentence, and spun around to race down the corridor. Chloe didn't ask questions, she simply followed at a similar pace.
As the pair dived into the morgue area, so did the orderly that had been there earlier. He scowled at the two teens, and then noticed Lois standing like a frozen statue with her back up against the wall, and her eyes wide open.
"What the hell are you guys doing down here?" He followed Lois' panicked gaze and realized one of the cadavers from the gurneys was now on the floor. "Hey, don't you know this kind of thing is an offence?"
"Dean, we're not exactly into bodysnatching!" Chloe ignored the orderly and scurried to her cousin's side to make sure she was okay.
The orderly finally realized who he was talking to and calmed- but only slightly. "Chloe! You should know I can't allow you in here. I told you I'd send you more information if I got any." He leaned over, wincing at the grisly corpse that now lay with its right hand outstretched on the linoleum. "Are you sure your friend here hasn't been playing a little prank?" He didn't sound amused.
Clark hunched down and took a look at what Dean, Chloe's informant, was so annoyed about. The body hadn't just moved off its gurney, it looked like the outstretched hand had been trying to write something in congealed blood. The teen raised a brow as he managed to make out what appeared to be the number six. "I know Lois can be annoying," he quipped. "But trust me, she's not the type to mess with the dead."
"Unlike you, Dean." Chloe pointed out. "You chose to do it for a living!"
Dean stood back up and waved off anymore comments. "Okay, okay, so your friend didn't do this. He looked over to the still terrified Lois. "Did you see who else was down here?"
Lois shook her head and seemed to struggle to speak. Any other time Clark would have made a comment about never seeing her dumbstruck before, but today he kept quiet. It was obvious she'd had too many frights for one day, and not even Lois was impervious to sheer terror. He walked over and put and arm comfortingly around her still shaking shoulders. "Lois, what happened?" He soothed.
"There was no one else here." She gulped, finally regaining her composure. "I had my back to the gurneys taking a look around for info on how long these two had been dead. The next thing I know, Gates or whichever one that is, was doing a 'Thriller' on me!"
"Bodies don't just get up and walk!" Dean scoffed and considered picking the cadaver up and returning it to its resting place.
Chloe at last noticed the scrawled writing on the floor and wasn't so sure. "Not even here in Smallville?" She cocked a brow and then glanced back to Clark and Lois. "So, any idea why Mr. Dawn of the Dead would try and write the number six?"
Clark shrugged. Of all the things going on, nothing appeared to be linked to the number. "Maybe we should go read the journal?" He asked, feeling his pocket to convince himself it was still there.
"Journal?" Both the orderly and Lois questioned simultaneously.
Chloe shook her head. "I don't have time to play historian right now. I have to go write out what I'm going to discuss on tonight's late show." Her eyes sparkled with excitement at getting her own spot on KROW. "Why don't you show Lois the journal and we can all go through some theories once I get off air." She thought about it and then added, "Actually, maybe you could call me with what you find. I could maybe use this!"
Lois winced and looked over to Clark. "Do I look like Nancy Drew?" Her expression dared him to make a quip, and of course he rose to the challenge with his usual mile wide grin.
"Well, now that you mention it…"
Dean coughed. "Ahem, journal?" He questioned again, wondering what on earth anyone's diary could have to do with corpse tampering.
Chloe brushed it aside with her usual air of journalist mystery. "I don't know- yet, but stay tuned to KROW tonight and I just might have a story for you."
Lois took one last look at the body Dean had yet to remove and summarily grabbed Clark's arm. "Come on, Hardy boy. You and I have some reading to do where its nice and safe in the Kent loft." She pulled roughly on his jacket sleeve and muttered, "Anywhere as long as I don't see another dead body for a week…no, make that a month…"
Clark followed obediently. He hated to admit it, but it was good to have the old Lois back.
Lana sighed and checked the wall clock. It was still early, and she somehow felt she should have better things to do than mope around in her flat above the Talon. Things had been so different since her return from Paris, and on days like this she almost wished she could go back to the time before her trip.
On impulse, the ex-cheerleader grabbed her car keys and decided to drive out to the stables where she kept her horse. Despite her stint in Europe, she'd still kept paying the fees because she hadn't the heart to leave the one thing behind that had never let her down. Today, she decided, it was time she returned the favour.
Twenty minutes later, Lana was climbing out of her Jeep and hoping her horse hadn't forgotten her.
"I have him all ready for you, Miss Lang." A slightly short, aged man appeared with a horse in tow, and smiled. "When you called, it was so nice to hear from you."
Lana smiled back. "You shouldn't have, Burt. I could have saddled him up." She'd known the old timer for many years, and he was always too happy to help when he was around. "Thanks, though." She took the reins and climbed into the saddle before she could have second thoughts.
The horse snorted. It had been awhile since he'd been ridden, and he'd almost forgotten the sensation of someone on his back. Lana patted his neck affectionately and gently pulled the reins, indicating it was time for them to leave.
Burt waved and watched as his favourite horse and rider trotted off into the distance and onto Luthorcorp land. Normally, no one rode on the pastures even though they weren't in use. It was still taboo to some people in Smallville to be associated with the Luthors- and that included using their land to exercise horses. Lana didn't feel that way.
After trotting at a reasonable pace for about two miles she came to the oak tree she'd once sat under with Clark. It had been one of the happier moments in her life, and the sight of it now brought back memories she didn't care to think about. She softly dug her heels back and indicated for her ride to speed up again.
Once the wind began to whip against her, Lana abruptly felt invigorated for the first time in months. She let her horse speed up even further, until they were almost galloping over the grassland like some wild mustang and daredevil rodeo rider. The thrill of the charge seemed to last forever, and was only halted when her horse suddenly shied from the land in front of them.
The animal dug its hind hoofs into the grass until sods of earth flew up behind it, and for a moment Lana thought the horse was going to rear up and throw her. It whinnied in acute distress and then backed up; prancing as if there was something on the ground it sorely needed to trample the life out of.
Lana's heart raced, and she tried desperately to see if there was a snake in the long grass that could have spooked her charge. "There's nothing there…" She tried to calm the horse, but it snorted harder and she seemed to be able to sense its rapid heartbeat echoing her own. Something was wrong here, but it wasn't anything tangible.
"I can't ride you like this!" Lana bit her lip and swung down off the horse's back. She tugged the reins over its long mane and tried to lead it back across the meadow.
The horse shied again. This time from something Lana could actually see.
Poking from the ground where the horse had dug in its hoofs was a segment of timber. It looked blackened, as if water in the soil had permeated it over many years.
Lana frowned and bent over, curious as to what the shaped piece of wood might once have been. As she grew closer, she noted grooves in its surface, and couldn't resist brushing away more loose earth to try and discern what they were.
As her fingertips caressed the section of wood, her horse almost screamed in terror, and this time it held nothing back. With one gut-wrenching whine, the horse reared up on its hind legs and tugged the reins from Lana's grasp. There was no time to try and settle the animal down. It simply charged off at full gallop with the white's of its eyes showing in total panic.
Lana inhaled and took it in her stride. It was just another bad day in a string of many bad days. She decided to let the animal have time to settle down and put her immediate attention back to the timber. It was as if the ancient segment was calling to her, and she couldn't resist its temptation.
Grabbing the protruding edge with both hands, Lana tugged back as hard as she could, and the earth finally gave way its treasure. The wood was longer than Lana had expected, and engraved deeply into one side were letters that almost certainly spelled a name.
…beth Dane
Lana guessed the missing segment of wood contained the remaining letters to form the name 'Elizabeth.' "So, what are you doing all the way out here?" She looked around, trying to think of what the timber could have once been, and then as clearly as the sun shone in the sky she remembered.
The land might belong to Luthorcorp now, but according to a project she'd done in History class it had once been Smallville cemetery. In all probability, the thing in her hand was the remnants of an old style wooden tombstone.
For a second, Lana was tempted to drop the fragment and run to find her horse, but then she shook off the idea. It was silly to be superstitious. The dead couldn't hurt anyone, only the living could- and besides, she was now intrigued as to who Elizabeth Dane was.
Lana took off her jacket and wrapped her new treasure in it. Then, she began the long hike back to the stables wondering how she'd manage to round up her horse if he was still spooked.
It was past 4pm by the time Lana eventually made it back to the Talon, but she didn't mind. For once she'd had an adventurous day that hadn't involved some meteor freak or ex-boyfriend attacking her.
She jogged up the stairs with the wood segment under one arm, and gave Martha Kent a quick wave with her free hand. "Hi, Mrs. Kent. Is Clark around?" If anyone would help solve the mystery of the wood it would be Clark or Chloe, but Chloe was probably off writing her ideas for the KROW show.
Martha shook her head. "He gave Lois a lift into town and I haven't seen him since. Do you want me to call him?"
Lana smiled, wrinkling her nose in the process. "No need, thanks." She responded. "I'm sure I can catch up with him later…"
Lana carried on up to her flat and quickly unlocked the door. It wouldn't be as much fun without Clark or Chloe, but maybe she could still find out about the piece of wood. Just as long as it doesn't involve long dead witches and burning at the stake! She shivered, and placed the wood down while she made coffee.
Before she could investigate further her phone began to ring with her favourite jingle. She flipped it open and quickly accepted the call when she saw it was from Clark. "Hi," she said cheerily. "I was hoping to…"
Before Lana had finished talking, she realized there was a strange smell in the apartment. A smell that had the distinct aroma of burning wood. She spun around, suddenly horrified at what was happening.
Even though there was nothing to ignite it, the timber she had found from the long lost grave yard was engulfed in flames. "Clark, I'll be right back!"
Lana tossed down her cell phone and immediately grabbed a towel, beating at the flames and smoke until she'd smothered them. She drew in a breath before taking stock of any damage, and it was then she realized something was terribly wrong.
The wooden memorial looked just the way it had when she'd found it. There was no sign of any fire damage, and no scorching on the table where it lay. Lana's eyes bulged and she gaped for a second before tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear.
She prodded the wood with her forefinger, but it wasn't even warm to the touch. Eventually, she retrieved her phone and took a moment to try and explain what had happened to Clark.
"Hi, Clark. Sorry I had to bail on you, but the strangest thing just happened…"
Somehow, Clark wasn't surprised. "Tell me about it. Strange things have been happening to me all day!" Clark paused, taking in the implications of Lana's first statement. "Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over?"
"No, I'm fine. It's just I found this old piece of wood with engravings on while I was out riding. I thought it might be fun to try and trace where it was from, but well…" How do I tell him it just spontaneously combusted! He'll think I hit Isobel mode again! "It's nothing really." She decided to keep the fire to herself for now, "I think the wood is from a grave. Some one called 'Elizabeth Dane.' Have you ever heard of her?"
The line went quiet while Clark thought about it. After a second he admitted he hadn't. "Sorry, the name doesn't ring any bells. Is it important? Only Lois and I kind of have a little investigation of our own going, and I was wondering if you'd like to come on over and join in. We could listen to Chloe on the radio together too in my loft."
Lana considered it. Suddenly, she wanted to be in peoples' company more than ever, and she wanted to distance herself from the weird segment of wood, but one of her old friends from high school was coming over later, and she couldn't be in two places at once. "I'll have to take a rain check on that, Clark. Stacey, my cheerleading buddy is coming over for a Brad Pitt marathon later and I'd hate to let her down."
"Well, if you're sure you're okay?" Clark could tell from Lana's tome she was not, but he'd long since learned not to go against her wishes.
"I'm fine." She lied. "I'll catch you tomorrow maybe." As Clark hung up Lana winced. She'd wanted his company, and then when he had rang and offered it she'd said no. Was it because Lois was involved? She pushed away the thought and instead looked at the piece of wood again.
The name Dane seemed even more harshly engraved into the timber now. In fact, it looked like it had almost been seared in. She tentatively tried to touch the lettering again, and this time her fingertips recoiled as somehow red hot heat emanated from the surface.
Lana grabbed the nearby scorched towel and threw it over her find. Now, she wished she had taken note of her horse's sixth sense and left the wooden section behind in the earth where it belonged. Soon, she would wish even harder, because the witching hour was once again rapidly approaching, and tonight the fog would return for its full retribution.
TBC...