Chapter Two

Lois bounded down the steps with Chloe close at her heels. Lana was sitting upright on the couch, with her warm blanket draped over her lap, pointing the remote intently at the TV. Soon they heard the volume increase and the forecaster make a crackled entrance onto the screen.

“What is it?” Chloe asked, taking a seat next to Lana. Lois plopped herself on the ground in front of the girls and leaned against the couch.

“Shhh!” Lana hissed. Chloe nodded, apologizing, and they focused their attention on the TV.

The static was so bad that it was hard to make out the picture, but they heard the voice fine. Bill Jenkins, the channel 5 news forecaster, was standing in front of a big screen that had the storm movements displayed, and he was pointing to the different parts of Smallville where the biggest and best parts of the storm were at the moment. “As you can see, a huge red bubble is moving towards Ridge Drive , this is the cell of our storm. It probably won't produce a tornado, but here in Kansas , we've learned to always expect the unexpected. What we have now is a severe thunderstorm warning for southern Smallville. Families, we urge you to not hesitate getting yourselves into your cellars. Light poles are being struck by lightning and several power outages have taken place along…just a second…” he rustled some papers and a woman dressed in dark blue clothing rushed in front of the camera to hand him a paper. “This just came in, three telephone poles are out on Ridge Drive and all communication has been cut off from the Kent farm down to the old Garrick house. Rescue crews are being sent as we speak…”

Chloe gasped, “I didn't recognize the name of the street until they said ‘ Kent farm'!”

Lana nodded, “I know, they were rolling the names of the streets that were experiencing power outages on the bottom of the screen and right after I saw Ridge Drive , a breaking weather announcement flashed across the screen.”

Lois looked confused, “Who are the Kents ?”

Chloe looked down and her and stared, “ Clark …”

Lois nodded, smirking slightly, “Ahh…” She turned her head back to the screen and watched as Bill continued to blab away.

Chloe turned to Lana, “You don't think they're in trouble, do you?”

Lana stared at the television screen, but answered, “This is Clark we're talking about. The Kent 's, no less. They would never be caught out in a storm, or without shelter…”

“But think about all the flooding there is going on! What if they were caught in their house? I mean, the power is out, so it's not like they would rush down to their cellar. Do they have a cellar?” she stopped and thought about it for a moment. Practically everyone that didn't have a basement was required to have a cellar, but she couldn't remember if the Kent 's actually had one.

“I think they do,” Lana said, doing the same staring off in to space look, wondering and thinking back. “What could we do anyway?”

“Hey, shhh!” Lois hissed. The girls stopped talking and stared back at the television.

Bill Jenkins came on the screen once again and began to talk, with new important updates. “Rescue crews have reached the Brigade farm on Ridge Drive and found the power lines down for a half mile. Loose power cords are strewn about and the crews are having a difficult time getting around them. No word yet on whether the family is safe…”

Chloe shook her head, “That's so sad. Why does it have to keep raining?” She glared out the window, as if she were meaning to intimidate the rain pounding relentlessly against the windows. “Isn't there something we can do?”

Kent Farm
A high pitched crackling sound echoed from the power cords into the cellar, where Clark was floating on his back, shivering and in pain. When the cord had landed above the entrance of the cellar, it sent shocking electrical circuits carrying meteor rock fragments throughout the water that was in formulating in the cellar.

Everyone knows what meteor rocks do to Clark , well, everyone watching, but what would electrified meteor rock fragments do to him?

He moaned as he drifted in and out of his conscious state, not completely sure if all his body parts were there, or if he just couldn't feel them. His eyes squinted open and he found himself looking up at the ceiling. Nothing was certain though, he could have been staring down a black hole and not know the difference at the moment. The ceiling fuzzed, and he had trouble concentrating on one specific feature. His brain and mind gave up, and he slipped back into a deadly unconsciousness.

Above ground, Jonathan screamed in pain as he tried to pry the pole of his leg. He had heard the pain-staking and torturesome cracking of his fibula, in the exact spot the pole had dramatically fallen. It had felt like a car had driven over his leg, then stopped and jumped on it a couple of times. Now, he bravely tried to get it off. But when your leg feels as though it was cut off from your body, and your mind is screaming for your son, not to mention the rain and the sheer heaviness of the pole itself, it becomes difficult to do anything that requires strength and concentration.

He heard faint footsteps behind him and strained to look at who was coming. Oh dear God, please don't let it be a rescue team! he wailed inside. But around the corner emerged his lovely wife, already soaked by the pouring rain. No! Not Martha! He began to cry inside, he did not want her to try to help him, she could get hurt. “Martha!” he yelled. “Go back inside!”

She shook her head very determinedly. She almost slipped on the slick grass…er…mud, but regained her footing and rushed to her husband's side. “Jonathan! I'll lift with you!” She gripped the underside of the pole, around the sides of his leg where the pole had impaled his leg. Jonathan kept thinking, what could she do? But sometimes she surprised him, and knowing he had no other choice, he winced as he bent down to get his own hand under the pole.

It was dreadfully slippery, and it kept slipping out of their hands, putting more and more pressure every time it did, causing Jonathan to scream out muffled cries of incredible pain. But finally, they got it high enough off his leg for him to shift, as fast as he dared, out from under it. They let it go with a slam, and Jonathan gripped his thigh, feeling the numbness and shrieking pain go up and down his legs, through his brain and out his mouth.

Martha put a hand on his chest as he attempted to stand, “Don't think about it.” She remained kneeled at his side and brushed a hand through his hair, “Where's Clark , sweetie?” she said. He shook his head, as in he couldn't hear her. She yelled, “Where's Clark ?”

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing and moaning under his breath. He couldn't get the words out through his clenched teeth, but managed to nod towards the cellar. Martha stood and hurried to the entrance. Jonathan collapsed back on the ground, laying flat out and not able to contain the pain anymore. He had to stop Martha from going in there, but he couldn't keep his mind focused. Before he knew it, he too was drifting ever so slowly into unconsciousness. If they didn't get a doctor soon, he would bleed to death, and fast.

Martha stared intently down into the cellar. The power pole had crashed through the top, laying at an angle and blocking off one of the corners of the entrance. She gasped when she saw the frizzled green droplets of water dripping at an extreme pace into the water below, which had risen another two steps. She stepped down onto one of the soggy, wooden steps and felt a zing of electricity race through her body. It faded though and she took another step, it happened again, slightly more intense this time. She hesitated, worried what would happen if she took another step.

Bending low, she stared into the underground hole and called out Clark 's name. Again and again, louder and louder, but she was no competition with the rain. It had an advantage: there was more of it. Every time she called out Clark's name, there seemed to be a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder, but none of the times could she catch a glimpse of Clark .

Was he even down there?