Chapter 11

Jordan could feel his anxiety levels rising and he pleaded with his nervous system to hold off just a little bit longer. Now was not the time for him to have a panic attack. He needed to keep it together, for his dad.

He struggled to support the taller man as they stumbled towards the door and out into the hallway. His dad's breathing seemed more even now but the ordeal had obviously taken a lot of energy out of him. Jordan remembered how long it had taken him to recover from his first few panic attacks – he'd felt like he needed to sleep for days!

His dad rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes for a second, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looked like he was fighting the urge to slide to the floor. In the red glow of the still flashing alarms, his face looked deathly pale.

Jordan hadn't realised how much he took his dad for granted until these last 24 hours had given him cause to reflect. Even though he wasn't always there when Jordan wanted him, he was always there when he needed him. So many times when Jordan had a breakdown at school, his dad had appeared to take him home, often before the school nurse had even had a chance to call. Of course, now he knew his dad had his super hearing tuned in to his loved ones at all times, ready to super speed over when he heard any sign of distress.

He was going to have to ask him how he trained his hearing like that. If they ever made it home that was.

'C'mon,' Jordan said encouragingly, 'we've just gotta find mom, Jon and grandad and then we can get out of here.'

His dad's eyes snapped open at the mention of their names and he pushed himself away from the comfort of the wall. Jordan got into position under his right arm, supporting him once again as they moved awkwardly down the hallway. His dad barely looked up from his feet, trying to focus on keeping one foot in front of the other. He felt him wince every so often as he struggled to control his newly returned super hearing in the face of the still blaring alarms.

Jordan was finding it hard to block them out himself. He'd only just managed to get his super hearing under control – if he didn't focus, he'd be on the floor writhing in pain like before.

He turned a corner and then stopped in his tracks at the sight of his dad's doctor sprawled out on the floor.

He was dead. Very dead. His face was contorted in a way that sent a jolt of horror fuelled panic through Jordan's entire body and he gasped involuntarily.

As he took in more of the scene in the hallway, he realised there were other bodies up ahead. It was carnage.

His dad heard his son's reaction and looked up from his feet, tensing in response to the sight before them.

'Jordan…' his dad started protectively, but he could find no words to lessen the impact of what they were seeing.

Just as Jordan was wondering how he was going to stay calm enough to drag his dad through the sea of dead bodies, the big double doors at the end of the hallway flew open. Three familiar figures burst through them and ran wildly in their direction.

His mom, brother and grandad came into view, barely slowing down despite the shock and relief evident on their faces as they saw them up ahead.

'Mom!' Jordan cried out, incredibly grateful he didn't have to figure out this situation on his own anymore.

The three of them practically skidded to a stop next to the struggling pair. His grandad looked sick with guilt and concern, and his mom glanced anxiously from his dad and back to him. His brother gave him a terrified look, but weirdly all the fear seemed to be directed at him. Jordan could see there was something horribly wrong.

'Lois, what's going on?' his dad asked breathlessly, doing his best to stand up straight now they were all there.

'We have to get out of here. Now,' she said, looking intently at his dad as she emphasised the last word.

Jordan looked back down the hallway wondering what had them so freaked. And why did his grandad keep looking at his dad like he was responsible? The older man had done a lot of questionable things over the years in the name of his obligations to the DOD, but Jordan had never seen him really look like he was sorry. Whatever he'd done this time, it had to have been a big mistake.

Then he saw it. There was some sort of green smoke seeping through the cracks in the doors.

'Oh my god, is that…?' he started, but his dad cut him off.

'MOVE,' he said commandingly. His dad's protective instinct kicked in, giving him more strength and focus than he'd had before, and he grabbed Jordan by the shoulders, pushing him forwards in the opposite direction to the potentially deadly gas.

'There's an exit just down this hallway and round the corner,' his grandad shouted out as they ran.

Jordan didn't look back as he and his family flew down the hallway. He noticed the alarms getting quieter and realised they were running into darkness. Wherever they were heading, the alarm system must not be working down there. He didn't know whether to be relieved for the lessened attack on his senses or concerned about what they were walking into almost completely blind.

As soon as they turned the corner, he knew any relief would be short lived.

There was some kind of electrical box hanging off the wall, sparks flying out dangerously from cables that looked like they had been ripped in half. In the dim light, Jordan could see that the heavy metal emergency doors had been purposefully bent out of shape and it looked like someone had melted the long bar handles and hinges with heat vision.

Rosetti had clearly wanted to prevent them from making an easy escape.

Jordan looked back down the hallway nervously. The green smoke was getting thicker with each passing second and moving closer as it did.

A light came on behind him and he spun around to see his grandad holding a small flashlight up, pointing it at the damaged doors.

'Do you think you have enough strength to bust them open?' he asked his dad, his jaw clenched and his body tense.

General Sam Lane was usually so confident and in charge, it was weird for Jordan to see his grandad looking completely thrown off like this. He was usually always ready with the next move, the back-up plan. Right now he just looked lost.

Once again Jordan wondered why he took for granted that the people around him were unshakeable. Was he just oblivious before or was it something they projected? Maybe the reason he'd felt like there was nothing that could hurt them, nothing they weren't strong enough to handle - was that they usually wore a mask in front of him. And today that mask had slipped.

Maybe the truth was - his grandad, his mom... even his dad. They were all just human. Well, sort of...

His dad looked at the General with a less than confident look. He stepped forwards and tried pushing the damaged doors. Jordan could hear the creak of metal on metal against the force of his minimal returning strength, but it wasn't anywhere near enough.

His dad muttered a curse under his breath as he reluctantly gave up, panting from the exertion. Jordan had never heard his dad swear before and it was strangely unsettling.

'I'm sorry,' he said, looking back at them apologetically and shaking his head in despair. 'I'm just not strong enough yet.'

His mom stepped over to him purposefully and placed her hands on his shoulders, insisting he look up at her.

'Clark, this is not your fault,' she told him, like it was a mantra he needed to repeatedly hear.

He responded with a barely perceptible nod, but Jordan could see the gratitude on his face.

'Jonathan, come on,' his mom said, motioning to the two doors on either side of the hallway a bit further back the way they came, 'Help me search these rooms.'

Jon nodded and moved quickly, glancing back at his brother briefly as he passed. Jordan was sure the look he gave him was meant to be reassuring, but he couldn't erase the concern from his face.

He watched them head out of the darkness and disappear into one of the rooms, not knowing what their search would turn up. He'd seen the metal shutters come down over the windows in his dad's room once the alarms started, it seemed a fair assumption that the rest of the building had been similarly sealed off. And it's not like the DOD kept it's weapons or explosives down in the hospital wing.

Jordan knew they had to keep trying to find a way out. He stepped up next to his dad who was still looking over the doors as though trying to find a point of weakness, any way he might be able to use the strength he had to create an opening.

He looked up at his son in surprise as he reached out and grabbed one of the melded handles.

'Let's try together?' he said, searching his dad's face for agreement.

He may not have enough strength to bust it open alone, but maybe together they could. Even if it was just enough for them to squeeze through.

His dad's eyes flickered with a bit of hope, and Jordan saw some pride there too. It made him feel stronger somehow.

'Okay, on three,' his dad said, moving beside him and grabbing the other bar.

Jordan braced himself to draw on every bit of strength he could muster.

'One, two, three,' his dad said, grunting as he pushed against the door once again.

Jordan shoved the door with everything he had, crying out from the effort. He felt the door bowing slightly from the combined pressure they were creating, the metal creaking and groaning as they persisted. Spurred on by the possibility of success, Jordan found himself straining even harder, and he heard his dad practically screaming beside him as they both put every last bit of weight into their efforts.

Suddenly, his dad collapsed against the door in defeat, exhausted and with nothing to show for it. Jordan reluctantly stepped away, panting to catch his breath and rubbing his arms and shoulders as his muscles protested against the strain he'd put them under.

His dad looked down the hallway and then back to the General, panic starting to spread over his features again. Jordan had just seen his dad have a panic attack, but there was something about the look on his face now that was different. Like he was dreading something he'd been through before, something unbearable.

'Simkins,' he heard his grandad calling out into the radio as his dad caught his eyes and tried to shift his expression to something more hopeful. 'Simkins, do you read me.'

After an excruciatingly long moment she responded. 'General Lane? Sir, where are you?'

'We're in hallway 5b of the hospital wing. The exit is compromised. I need another way out, and it needs to be fast,' he barked into the radio.

'… Uh, I'm sorry sir, General Hardcastle and her team have just evacuated us from the building, We're not in the command centre anymore,' she revealed apologetically, and his grandad clenched his teeth and grunted in response.

He looked like he wanted to smash his radio into tiny pieces.

Jordan glanced back down the hallway and his throat tightened. The thick smoke had travelled so far towards them that he couldn't even see the door that his brother and mom had gone through anymore. Worse, he thought he could feel an unpleasant tingling sensation beginning to creep through his body, even at this distance.

He'd encountered kryptonite for the first time earlier that evening, and it was not something he wanted to repeat. Besides, this was kryptonite gas. He had no idea how his body would react to it. Or what it would do to his dad in his already weakened state.

His grandad saw his despair and gave him a shameful look of regret as he lifted his radio to his mouth once more.

'Simkins,' he said, desperation evident in his voice, 'you'd better tell Hardcastle if we don't get a way out of here right now, we are going to lose Superman.'

John Henry's head was pounding as he slowly came into consciousness, struggling to pull together the threads of his memory. He started to open his eyes cautiously and could just about make out a figure peering down at him. As soon as he recognised the man's face, shock and fear snapped him into full awareness.

'Good morning sleepy head,' Morgan Edge said in a sing song voice, waving at him mockingly with one hand.

His enemy's clear delight caused John's stomach to curdle, and he tried to sit up to look around. To his dismay, he found he couldn't even lift his head. There was a strap pulled tightly over his forehead, and similar ones holding his hands and feet in place on a cold metal surface.

Straining his neck to get a look at anything around him, he could see that they were in some kind of old factory that had clearly been abandoned for a long time. The air smelt damp and putrid, and there was one exposed and flickering light bulb dangling from the ceiling above them. He could just about make out the top of some kind of machine above him, as though he were lying in front of it ready to be placed inside. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

'What do you want me with?' he asked through gritted teeth, struggling against the straps in defiance.

'Oh, you'll be excited to hear, I've decided to offer you a place on my executive programme,' Edge revealed, as though it was wonderful news.

John hadn't known how the kryptonians had started their takeover on his earth – after all, the attack on Metropolis came without warning, and they hadn't exactly had much time to investigate after that. But he'd known Edge was one of them. He'd fought him on the battlefield many times and he knew he was responsible for almost as much destruction as Kal-El.

Then when John had arrived on this earth, he'd had the unpleasant shock of seeing Edge's smiling face on a billboard. He'd immediately started investigating the kryptonian's corporate disguise, and the more he learned, the more he realised the truth - Edge was the catalyst, the man setting things in motion. He may even have been responsible for Superman's sudden change of character on his world.

'I'm not much of a corporate guy,' he replied defiantly, glaring at his enemy with pure hatred.

'Oh, really? You seem to have been very loyal to my former competitor Lex Luthor. That is, until you died. On this world anyway,' Edge toyed with him, alluding to his knowledge of the man's origin.

'What can I say. I've learned from his mistakes,' John retorted.

'Well, that is a shame,' Edge responded with a fake sigh of disappointment. 'Unfortunately, we're too far into the programme now to start letting people go, so just try and lay back and appreciate the opportunity. I promise you, you're going to feel like a whole new man.'

John struggled again against his restrains, knowing it was pointless, but unable to just lay there and accept what he suspected Edge was threatening to do to him. He couldn't be the next Derek Powell.

'Now now, don't hurt yourself,' Edge scolded, that mocking tone still evident in his voice. 'General Zod wouldn't want a damaged host after all.'

He signalled to someone out of John's view and a sheepish looking doctor walked over to them. He gave John a guilt ridden and apologetic look.

'Begin the procedure,' Edge ordered, looking at the man expectantly.

The man nodded but hesitated to move. He seemed to be grappling with words he was terrified to say.

'Something the matter, doctor?' Edge asked in fake concern.

The man shuffled his feet, looking down at his clipboard rather than meeting the other man's gaze, and muttered softly, 'You said they would all be willing volunteers.'

'Oh, come now doctor, don't let the man's restraints throw you off,' Edge explained in a faux caring tone. 'He may be acting like he doesn't want this, but secretly, he does.'

He turned back to John, his face turning serious. He stooped down closer, making it impossible for John to look away as he spoke.

'Don't you want all that pain and grief to stop?' he asked, as though it was an obvious choice. 'Don't you want to forget about everything that happened on your sad little world?'

John's body trembled in disgust and hatred at the kryptonian's close proximity, but he could do nothing more than simply glare back at him.

Of course, he wanted to pain to stop. But not like this. Not by being turned into one of them.

Edge searched the man's eyes for any sign of submission and when he found none, he straightened back up and his tone turned scolding.

'You don't belong here!' he exclaimed. 'You think you're here to help? All you've done is incapacitate the one person who might have had the power to stop me!'

'You think I don't know you want him to join you?' John spat back at him defensively.

'Well yes, I'm still hopeful there's time for Kal-El to come around to my way of thinking,' he agreed, and then paused, smiling to himself. 'You know, I should be thanking you really. You've shown him what I've seen from the moment I arrived here on earth. The darker side of humanity. The hatred. The violence. The unrelenting cruelty. Maybe now he'll realise his own people deserve more loyalty than this lesser species called mankind.'

John felt the regret clutching at his chest as his enemy spoke, hoping he wasn't right. Rage had blinded him for so long, made him single minded in his attempt to find some sort of closure to his desire for revenge. He would never forgive himself if all he'd done was driven him to the very fate he was trying to prevent.

'And if he doesn't submit willingly,' Edge continued, his voice turning suddenly cold, 'Then I'll just have to kill everyone he loves.'

The words hung in the air for a moment, dripping with vicious intention. Then Edge motioned towards the doctor aggressively, and the terrified man moved shakily to the controls of the machine behind him.

John could only glare at Edge, as the hard surface he was lying on began to move, sliding into the machine. He watched the kryptonian's smiling face as he waved at him once more, before he was completely surrounded by the machine's walls.

John held a single image in his mind and clung to it with all his mental will as the device started up. Pain tore through his body as the machine pulsated with bright light and energy. He felt like his mind was being ripped in half, and his muscles tensed and contracted all over his body. He focused even harder on the memory, desperate to keep at least one part of himself, even if the rest of him was eradicated.

His daughter. Natalie.