~*~
…two…
~*~
October 31st, 1996
"What in the name of all that is unholy are you supposed to be?"
Clark and Pete, with the aid of their flashlights, were trying to make sense of Chloe's outfit. The frizzy brown wig, the tight leopard print ski pants and the wrap-round yellow top that covered – well, nothing really.
"You said come as something scary," said Chloe, "Duh!"
"Duh yourself!" said Pete, "The question stands."
"I gotta admit, I'm stumped, Chlo," said Clark.
"Honestly, don't the two of you have even a trace of interest in popular culture?" the blonde – well, brunette for now, was obviously getting annoyed.
"We live in Smallville," said Pete, "Popular culture is the annual livestock show."
"I'm Scary Spice!" Chloe announced, "From the Spice Girls!"
Clark – dressed as Frankenstein, looked at Pete, dressed as the Wolfman, and two of the greatest figures in classic horror mythology shrugged, and said: "Who?"
"Aargh!" Chloe bent down, grabbed the handle of the picnic basket and pounded up the metal staircase.
For this Halloween rendezvous, they'd chosen one of the outer buildings at the old foundry. The abandoned plant was a suitable enough place to be at Halloween as it is, squatting over the outskirts of town like a rotting industrial monster. Clark and Pete, chuckling to themselves, followed Chloe up to the roof, where she was already spreading the chequed blanket she'd brought along.
"Still don't see the point in this," said Pete, stretching himself out beside her, "We could be at Mickey Gardner's party right now, but noooo…. Chloe thinks we're about to make first contact!"
"You didn't have to come if you didn't want to," Chloe pointed out.
Pete chose not to comment on that. The truth was, no party would be much fun without his two best friends.
"Besides," Chloe went on, "My sources tell me there's a 75% chance of another meteor shower tonight!"
"Your sources?" Clark scoffed, "Chloe… the guy's who write for the Wichita Whistler don't count as sources!"
"Just wait," said Chloe, adopting an obdurate tone, "You'll be singing a different tune by the end of the night."
"Let's examine the evidence," said Pete, reaching into the basket and handing out cans of soda, "These are the same guys who wrote about Elvis windsurfing at a competition in Paraguay…"
"So?"
"So, Paraguay's land-locked!"
"Oh."
"The same guys who think that aliens landed during the first meteor shower and now, they're convinced those same aliens have laid the groundwork for the second wave of the invasion! Which just happens to be tonight! Halloween!"
"Look, if all you're going to do is sit here complaining all night, then you might as well…!"
Clark cut in before the two found their way to a full-blown argument.
"Relax, Chlo," he said, "We're just saying… there's no such thing as aliens."
It would be two years before Clark found out just how ironic this statement was.
They fell into their usual, easy routine after that. Laying black on the blanket, counting stars and chatting about monster movies, and the possibility of aliens, and candy, and the possibility of aliens, and what high school would be like, and the possibility of… well, you get the point.
"I don't think I'm going to like high school," Chloe announced, tucking into the third bag of Doritos.
"Why not?" asked Pete, "High School's the place to be! Football games, and pep rallies and cheerleaders…:
"You've watched Grease a few too many times," Chloe informed him.
"Clark, back me up here," Pete pleaded, "Tell her it's going to be great!"
"I guess," said Clark.
"You guess?" Pete was incredulous, "What's wrong with you guys? We've been waiting for this forever! We're gonna be waiting for a while, but still… it's the next step, you know?"
"I just think everything's going to change," said Chloe, "I mean… what if we're not friends anymore?"
"Why wouldn't we be friends?" said Clark.
Jerking upright to lean on his elbow, he fixed her with a hurt look – as though she'd just announced that she didn't think he was cool enough to hang out with anymore.
"Come on," said Chloe, "Everyone knows that's what happens in high school. People find different interests – there's more kids and you make new friends… it just happens."
"I think that's crap!" said Pete.
"I agree," said Clark.
An uncomfortable silence followed. The three friends were lost in their own thoughts until Pete stood up, letting them know that he had to find a bathroom. Clark and Chloe watched the stars.
"I can't help but believe," said Chloe, after a while.
"In what?"
"That there's life out there… somewhere… The universe is just so… big!"
"And you wanna be a writer?" Clark chuckled, "Of all the ways you could describe the universe, you come up with… big!"
"Shut up!"
"Hey guys!"
Clark and Chloe were startled when they heard Pete calling from ground level. Hurrying over to the edge of the roof, they peered down into the gloom. They located Pete by the beam of his flashlight.
"What is it?" Clark called.
"Come take a look at this!"
Clark led the way back down the stairs. Keeping away from the walls, where the pale moonlight at least attempted to banish the shadows, they made their way across the foundry yard, to the entrance of what looked like a large storage house. Pete was crouched a few feet from the door, looking at a hole in the ground.
"What is it?" asked Chloe, coming up beside him.
Pete had levered open an old trapdoor and was leaning over the entrance.
"Looks like tunnels running all the way underneath this place!" Pete looked up at them, his eyes shining brighter than the light he carried, "I wonder where it goes…"