Only Twenty minutes had passed, but to Superman, it felt like hours. He was standing next to an unmarked squad car. Chief Jensen was seated in the passenger side, with the door wide, his legs on the ground. He was talking on the phone to someone. Actually, he was yelling.
Actually, he was trying to yell.
"I understand that, sir, but… No, we had no way of knowing when exactly, but… I don't think it would have made much difference!... No, the prints we received were from the building office. They didn't show any damned basement!... It was made of lead, for God's sake! Two feet of solid lead!... Yeah, he's still here… Oh the media's going to have a field day with this for sure… No sir… I don't think that... But… Fine. Yes sir."
Jensen hung up the phone and tossed it into the drivers' seat. "Jerk." He mumbled. He let out a heavy sigh and climbed out of the vehicle.
"The mayor says "hi"…" he said as he joined Superman.
Superman didn't respond.
Jensen continued on. "Apparently, the building was originally built back in the thirties; back when the whole world was scared of the "A" bomb falling. The idea behind the basement was a fallout shelter; someplace they could all run and hide and tuck their heads between their legs… Damn idiots." Jensen spit on the ground.
"The victims are the manager," he pulled a small notepad from his breast pocket. "One Theodore McKinney, sixty one; and his wife, Lillian, fifty-five. The third was Lisa Anne Dane-Kuttler. Thirty-one. Apparently, she was some kind of artist, or something. The basements full of paintings and sculptures. I guess they let her use it as her studio or something."
Jensen took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. "She was five months pregnant."
Superman looked at him for the first time since he began talking. Jensen looked back. He couldn't remember every seeing such raw and naked pain on a man's face before.
Jensen looked away.
Slowly, Superman looked back at the building. There was a team of medical examiners on the scene now. They were bringing the first of the three bodies out on a gurney, concealed inside a black bag. Cameras flashed and video cameras recorded it all.
Superman's eyes found the ground.
"The mayor's having a cow, thinks it's going to affect the public's opinion of the level of competency of the Fire Department. Not to mention their opinion of you."
Superman didn't respond.
"He's right about one thing: the media's going to go nuts over this. Christ Almighty! I can't wait to see the headlines!" He spat again. "We'll play up the "lead" thing to the media as much as possible. Make them understand that you… that we all did what we could."
"Did we?" Superman asked, more to himself than to Jensen.
Jensen looked at him, his eyes narrowed. He turned towards him and stepped closer to the taller man.
"Let me tell you something," Jensen began. "Don't do it! Don't blame yourself for this. You saved that woman on the top floor, you saved this building, and you probably saved this entire block. You got nothing to be ashamed of, you understand me!?"
Superman raised his eyes and looked at Jensen, but didn't respond.
"Superman!" someone shouted.
They both turned to see a man holding a microphone. Another man holding a large video camera was at his heels, a bright light shining before them.
They were intercepted by a trio of police officers.
"Superman!" the man shouted again, holding the microphone over the arm of the officers. "Why didn't you save those people? What happened inside the building? Didn't you know they were in there?"
And it spread like brushfire. One reporter and cameraman turned to five, doubled to ten, tripled to thirty.
And they all seemed to be shouting the same questions.
"Superman, what happened?"
"Why didn't you save those people?"
"Did you think you would have time to save them after you extinguished the fire?"
"Didn't you know they were there?"
"Superman, why did you let them die?"
"You better get out of here…" this from Jensen. "We'll handle these clowns."
"I should answer them." Superman offered. "Tell them what happened…"
"No!" Chief Jensen snapped. "Just go! You… you've done enough." he sighed.
Superman looked at him with wounded eyes. Jensen returned his look evenly. Superman didn't know if he meant it the way it sounded… but he didn't respond. He gazed over at the gathering crowd of reporters. Lois had pushed her way to the front.
They locked eyes. Hers' were red and puffy and her mascara had begun to run. "Clark…" she whispered. "I'm so sorry…"
Of course he heard her, but he didn't reply.
Without a word, Superman took to the sky, leaving behind him the building, the reporters, the crowd of onlookers, and three dead bodies.
The questions, however, followed him.
"Superman, why didn't you save them?"
"Superman, why did you let them die?"