Thanks for the reviews everyone :)
Clark popped his cell phone back in his pocket and frowned. After the day's goings on he was worried about Lana. The way she'd spoken had sounded like she was scared, and her breathless state indicated something had been going on more than just coffee making. You're paranoid! Lana probably just had to hurry to get to the phone. But then why did she leave me hanging on the line?
"Hello? Smallville, will you stop daydreaming about Miss Pom Pom queen and explain to me why we're sitting in your loft?" Lois cocked a brow and pointed to the journal that Clark has placed on the table earlier, "We have a mystery to supposedly resolve, remember?"
Clark inhaled, bobbed his head in acknowledgment, and tugged off his jacket to sit beside Lois. "Lana sounded scared. I guess after everything we've seen today I overreacted." He stared at the journal. "I can't shake the feeling something bad is about to happen because of this thing."
"Well don't you think we should stop beating around the bush and read the dang thing?" Lois reached out to pick up the faded book, but Clark beat her to it.
The journal contained the musings of a long dead Kent family member, and somehow it seemed fitting Clark should be the first one to read it. He gently teased the yellowing pages back and began where Nathanial Kent had scribbled his first thoughts of the year.
To begin with, there was nothing more than notes about what was going on in the local farming community. But later, things seemed to take an ugly turn. Clark scowled as he read how farmers were systematically 'removed' from their land by a local businessman because he had bigger plans for it.
Lois read over Clark's shoulder and whistled. "Wow, talk about history repeating itself! That sounds just like what Lionel Luthor did to this town back in the eighties."
Clark turned to look at her, surprised that she knew so much about a place she usually considered 'Hicksville.' "I don't think even Lionel went this far…" He tapped the next page and grimaced. "Look what Nathanial has to say about Alfred Holbrook."
Lois squinted in the dull barn light, and then began to read aloud from the journal dated 1.30am, 21st April 1880.
'Holbrook is relentless in his pursuit of the Kansas land we farm. Never have I seen such a single minded man before. An hour or so ago, he took his greed one step further. At midnight, he and a group of five others conspired to commit murder in the very church in which we pray!
I don't know why I was invited to the proceedings when not even the town's founding family, the Smalls were present. Perhaps they saw me as some kind of informer who would help them, but never would I have agreed to their infernal and heathen plans!
Not only did Holbrook wish to take the land. He had ideas about how he would go about it, and had gained our local priest, Father Malone's help. Holbrook, Malone and the others took just one hour to come up with their devilish plot. A plot of which I swore to take no part in!
The scheme was simple. The only farmers who now stood against Holbrook and had any chance of winning were Elizabeth Dane, a local widow who owned the majority of acres in Smallville, and her neighbour Blake. Each week Dane and Blake would rally the locals in a town meeting held in the church just before midnight.
Holbrook, Malone and their cohorts conspired to burn down the church and all held within it at tonight's meeting. I go now to try and warn my neighbors and friends of what awaits them this evening, and I pray they will listen, for between midnight and one will surely belong to the dead…
Lois finished her narrative and looked at Clark with a scowl. "And I thought Smallville was weird in this century!"
Clark wasn't really listening. He was processing the information and beginning to join up the missing dots. He stood up with his back to Lois and with the diary still in his hands. When he had a plausible sounding theory, he turned back around. "Lois, my dad said a fog came to Smallville the night Nathanial is talking about, and that there was a terrible tragedy. People died in a fire…"
Lois put her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess we just re-wrote Smallville history then, because the fire was no tragedy, it was outright murder." Her brow furrowed and she took the book from his hands to take another glimpse. "This entry is dated 21st of April. Today is 21st April…"
Clark nodded. "And last night we had an unusual fog in town and people got burned." He walked over to look out of the barn shutter. It was a crystal clear night, and that at least gave him some reassurance he was possibly being melodramatic. But then there was more evidence of something supernatural, and Lana had been the one to discover it. "Lois, you remember earlier when I said Lana sounded spooked?"
Lois rolled her eyes. "Smallville, when isn't that girl spooked?" At Clark's annoyed expression she added, "Yeah, I remember. So what? Did she see a ghost or a mystery fog too?"
"No, but she mentioned finding something with the name Elizabeth Dane on. Tell me the odds say that's a coincidence?" Clark gently took the book and rifled through every page of the diary again trying to find more evidence but there was nothing. "The chimney was burned near where we found this, and there were no more entries. What if Holbrook and Malone made sure Nathanial was too busy with a fire at his homestead to tell the others? What if…"
"Whoa!" Lois held up her hand. "That's a whole lot of 'what ifs,' there, Smallville." She crossed her arms and bit her lip, reminding Clark of an expression Chloe often had while investigating. It was kind of cute. "So, you're thinking that somehow after all these years we have ghosts out for revenge, and they're likely to come back tonight?"
"No…" Clark held onto the wooden handrail and looked down on the barns' interior. "I don't really know what I think, but you can see the connections, can't you?"
Lois not only saw them, she had thought of another, and it was creeping her out to even think about it. Reluctantly, she decided to tell him her assumption. "Clark, there were six conspirators who planned the murders."
Clark turned from the rail and his eyes seemed to exude dread instead of his usual playful charm. "The body in the morgue..."
Lois nodded again. "Yup, that guy tried to scrawl the number six, and now we know why." She waited for Clark to make his usual dash to try and play hero, but he didn't move. "At least, I think we know why."
"Lois, I think six people must die tonight in order for the presence in the fog to be satiated, but how do we know who will be targets after all these years." Clark paced the barn, brushing a hand through his hair in total frustration. "Do you think Gates, Spooner and Steadman were relatives of the conspirators, or will the killings be random?"
Lois shook her head and ventured an idea. "Do you think the church will have any records about all this? I mean it is directly connected to the whole affair."
Clark agreed. "Did you know the priest is a direct descendant of the Malone the journal refers to? I think maybe we should go see him. Even if there are no records he could be a target!" This time Clark did start to descend the wooden steps at a jog.
"Whoa, slow down! In fact, who says I want to go play Ghostbusters with you right now?" Lois babbled on, but hastened down the steps just as quickly as Clark had. "What about the police?"
Clark spun around and grimaced. "Do you want to try and tell Sheriff Adams there's going to be four more murders tonight, but the killers are long dead spirits?" He reached the barn entrance and looked longingly at the open fields he could easily superspeed over. That, however, was out of the question with Lois in tow.
"You have a point, Smallville. That acerbic old grouch would probably arrest us instead." Lois impatiently jogged to the Kent truck and climbed in. "We can tune in to Chloe's show on the way over there. Come on, let's get a move on!"
"My parents…" Clark hesitated. He sorely wanted to tell his mom and dad where he was about to go, but he didn't want to alarm them when in all probability he'd just been around too many wall of weird cases.
"I'm sure they have better things to do than listen to our ghost stories. You do know we're probably way off base with all this?" Lois peered at Clark as he climbed behind the wheel. "I mean, don't think for one minute I'd be heading to some old church yard at almost midnight if I thought I was getting anywhere near a ghost…or an unearthly fog…"
Clark had to smile as he slid the truck into gear and Lois continued to babble on. "So, are you going to turn on the radio and hit KROW or what?" He grinned and accelerated the pickup until he reached the maximum speed permitted on the Smallville back roads.
Lois flicked the button and settled into listening to Smallville's only radio station. The D.J. named Dan's soothing tones almost made her forget why they were out in the middle of the night- almost.
The Kent truck trundled up the rough stone driveway to Smallville's oldest church, and came to a halt outside the recently painted gate. Lois shuddered as the radio began to hiss and pop suddenly, but she didn't comment on the phenomenon. "It looks…"
"Almost ghostly," Clark finished for her, and then noted a slight ethereal mist hovering just above ground. It would just about cover the tops of his boots- certainly nothing you'd call fog, but at two minutes to twelve on this certain night it was definitely worthy of giving Goosebumps to anyone.
Lois nodded. "So do you know the priest here?" She asked.
"We've met." Clark answered as he climbed out of the cab. "The old guy drinks way too much, though." He glanced at the increasing miasma that whirled at his feet. It wasn't getting any higher, but it somehow had a life of its own far more than any ordinary mist. I'm imagining it. It's just moisture in the atmosphere. "Why don't you wait here, Lois? Maybe keep the engine running."
"Do I detect a hint of fear, farm boy?" Lois wasn't making one of her usual sarcastic comments. She was sensing the same foreboding as Clark, and it left her with the identical desire to have the means for a quick getaway. She slithered over the Dodge's bench seat and settled in behind the steering wheel. "Don't be too long, Clark. I'm really starting to not like this."
Clark nodded and gestured to the radio. "Why don't you turn it up? It will take your mind off things till I get back."
"I somehow doubt it!" Lois scrunched up her nose in her best Lana impression but turned up the volume anyway. Chloe's part of the show was due anytime now and maybe the sound of her cousin's voice would have a calming effect.
Clark watched her and abruptly realized he was staring. Lois was definitely getting to him- in a good way. He smiled, and then whirled back around to enter the church grounds. As he unlatched the gate, it whined and shrieked through lack of lubrication.
The noise was grating to Clark's perceptive ears, and it sent a steely chill between his shoulders. It's just an old gate. The superteen tried not to panic, but the further he got into the church yard, the more his heart began to throb in his chest. Even the sight of the brick and wood holy structure looming before him did little to ease his trepidation.
"Why are you here?" The elderly, gruff voice floated across the darkness, stopping Clark in his tracks. The inflection and timbre suggested the speaker was less than pleased about his interruption. In fact, the teen was sure he noted anger.
Licking his lips, Clark turned slowly to meet the man behind the voice. "Father Malone, I need to speak with you…"
TBC...