Chapter 19 [Plane Crash Site, Westchester County, North of Airport]
[A/N: Back to Peter. He's about to make some discoveries!]
Peter contemplated certain issues. City backdrop gave way to suburbs. Suburbs turned rural. Interstate gave way to winding state road through hills and palisades. Pine and oak trees took over from grass meadows. Ulrich's car and the road climbed higher and wound around sharp turns. Still, his mind weighed deeper issues. Clark's and Lana's appearance raised questions. Stacy's interest pushed matters to another level. Now, the actual accident site itself?
Too many questions…not enough answers….
Ulrich parked the car. His burning cigarette puffed its last in the ash tray. Suspicions and questions of his own brewed about in his head. The FAA data traced the plane to Farburg Aviation, a local company, close by. The pilot, Nicholas McFlannery, flew charter flights all over. His record sparkled with nary an infraction much less issues. Commendations lined said pilot's resume….
…and yet, he'd crashed the plane and now lay in NYPD's morgue….
…now no other details surrounding the flight, cargo, passengers, or origin point came out…
What the Hell? Who flies a plane but bails on the pre-flight data? A frown twisted Ulrich's mouth. Conundrum's and Cover Up's stench akin to Spoiled Fish reeked in his mind. "Hey, Pete? You okay over there?" He rubbed Peter's shoulder. "You're in your own little world over there."
"Hmm? Yeah. Sorry, Ben. I was just thinking is all." Peter rubbed his chin. "Lot about this whole thing doesn't make sense." He shook his head. "You already know that. Sorry."
Ulrich sniffed. "Don't apologize for good instincts. That's why I wanted you with me. You know your way around a story." He pointed down into the ravine. "Let's get a further look. Lot not right here." He motioned toward Pete's camera. "How are you for film?"
"I've got 36 exposures in the camera. I have another roll in my pocket ready to go." Peter patted his coat pocket. "Let's get what we need. Then, we can get out of here before the police show up and pull rank." Spider Sense buzzed in his head. He climbed out of the car. Slow steps walked over toward faded blacktop. He leaned against the guard rail. Smoke clogged his nose.
Devastation charred the valley below. Plane's remains burned against Palisades. Trees lay splintered in close proximity to Impact's site. Smoke's pillar rose high into the air. Two craters marred ground amidst the trees. Close to them, a massive oak lay snapped in two.
"Can't believe there aren't any police. Mr. Stacy and Lieutenant DeWolff knew about this a few hours ago." Peter aimed his camera at the burning plane. He snapped two pictures. There aren't any other plane wrecks. We're too far north for Mrs. Kent or the others to walk to Manhattan especially in the state they're in. Peter eased himself over the rail. "I'm going to check something out. Maybe you can look at the plane?"
"Pete! Hey! That's what we're here for!" Ulrich rolled his eyes. Now where's he going? He efforted himself over the rail. Step after descending step, he made his way down the incline to Valley's base. By now, Peter had disappeared into the woods. There could be bodies or something else newsworthy in there! He's onto something. He checked his watch. I'm not leaving until I get what we came for. Assignment with Features or not! He shook off that notion and stomped toward the wreck. Impact crater heaped charred luggage, shrapnel, torn leather, and clothing lay strewn all around. Blackened metal twisted against the rock ahead. For everything else, one expected but unwelcome odor remained absent…
…not a trace of human flesh burning…anywhere….
"For real?" Ulrich wove his way with care through Debris' maze. He made sure to give jagged edges and burning materials a wide berth. He stole a look back toward the woods again. Whatever you found, Pete, I sure hope it was worth it! His eyes rolled. Then, he resumed his path toward the blackened main wreck. Within another five minutes, he reached his goal. He looked around yet again.
No police in sight…still…
Our tax dollars in action. Word came down about the crash in this area. Nobody's here? This is so bizarre! Incredulity narrowed his eyes at that moment. Strangely, the door hole sat open. His examination revealed shredded hinges along its right edge. Something hit this door with considerable force. The remaining wall is still relatively intact. He stared. The hinges were pushed from the inside? What the Hell could've done THAT? Someone have a bazooka? He noted that on his pad. Then, he pressed deeper into the wreck. Pilot's door remained open albeit a charred mess. Damn, Pete! Story's here! Where'd they all go? Sure hope you found something worthwhile!
No bodies…not even a drop of blood anywhere….
Mysteries continued….
[Fifteen Minutes Earlier—Clana Impact Zone]
Peter scrambled down the incline. Caution urged him to take care. Given Tempus' constraints, he figured on Ulrich and him covering each part of the area. He edged his ways into the trees. He remained on edge. Despite seeming calm, Spider Sense buzzed in his head.
Paranoia felt as if someone was watching….
Come on, Parker. It's not like someone's got a satellite tasked to your location! He shook off the previous thought. He looked about the area. Even two dozen steps in, he saw nothing out of the ordinary…
…well until his Spider Sense alerted him differently that is….
He stopped short of falling into Clark's crater. "Wow!" He snapped several pictures. Crater and broken tree branches marked something's impact with the ground. What hit here? Did someone drop something out of the plane? Where is it? Why aren't there any fragments? He snapped a couple more pictures. Then, he spied Lana's landing spot. He hustled over to the second crater. "Another one?" His mind tried to wrap itself around the broken-off oak tree lying next to its splinter-ridden stump. "What hit this? The Hulk?" He blinked. A frown twisted at his mouth. Granted, that crater remained shallower than its counterpart.
The broken tree, however, stood testament to the reason….
What could…? He snapped pictures around the impact site. Lack of shrapnel discounted the missile theory. Other than Felled Tree's collateral damage, everything else continued on as normal. Radiation contamination of grass and mud remained nonexistent. Breeze's puff billowed softly across the makeshift clearing. Branches rustled. Chill reddened Peter's skin. Then, he saw something else….
Pink Cloth shred waved at him with Breeze's prompting.
Could this be from the impact? He picked up the fabric. Mud streaked it. Saw dust danced about it. I've seen this. Where? I… Then, Memoria hit him with the answer.
Lana….
Her blouse had a big tear in the sleeve. Mr. Stacy wouldn't go into what happened. He knew something! He had *that look*. Experience recognized Stacy's outlook especially when he pursued Secret's trail. She didn't hit this tree. She couldn't have…She's a normal teenager. She… Earlier Observation rang in his ears. If this is from her blouse…. He glanced toward the sky. He estimated Fall, Terminal Velocity, and Impact. No human being could hit this hard, get up, and then get herself back to New York before lunch! What the Hell are you?
"What are you for that matter, Mr. Parker?"
Spider Sense blared in his head. Hair stood on the back of his neck. This again! All right enough games. He turned to find Louise standing to his right. "Whoa! Where'd you come from?" He took in her suede coat and long dark skirt. "Lana?" He held up the cloth shred. Then, he motioned toward the tree.
Her eyebrow arched. A shrug raised and lowered her shoulders. "You're close. No, I'm not Lana. She's back in your city. I am her Aunt Louise MacCallum." She sucked in a deep breath. "And I know you've encountered your share of the unexplainable. Your friend asked why the police are not here yet? Did he not?" A slight smirk spread across her face. "Surely, you understand how some things aren't allowed to be known?"
"Not allowed…?" His eyes narrowed. "Look, Lady. I don't know how you got here or why you're here. My partner and I are pushing our luck out here as it is. You don't want to be here when the police arrive."
"It won't matter. I won't be." She shook her head. "Fine. I get to show off! Just like Ms. Marilyn! YES!" A bright flash enveloped her. Keep this to yourself, Mr. Spider-Man, Sir…. She now stood in white robes. She floated a foot off of the ground. "I'm like their ol' Guardian Angel!" She held her arms out and spun around in a complete circle. Her skirt billowed about akin to a certain "seven-year itch". Then, she lowered herself back to the ground. "Look me up. Smallville, Kansas. I was born in 1940. I died in 1961 from a ricochet bullet shot. There's…umm…someone else too…. "
"Wait! Wait a minute!" He put his hands up. Her transformation stunned him. "So, Lana…She?" He pointed to the tree.
"You have the torn cloth from her sleeve. There's no other explanation. Is there? Seriously, Peter. Can I call you, Peter?" Seriousness composed her once again. "There are certain things that can't be told. Stick with your friend over by the plane. Ask Clark and Lana about me. Believe me. You talk about this and nasty stuff could happen." Her face contorted. "Just…don't. There's a reason the police aren't here yet."
Spider Sense screamed at him again.
Breeze kicked up around the clearing. Something or rather someone streaked about the area. Supersonic speed dumped and filled in the two craters.
"What? Hey!" Peter bounded toward the streaking being. "Wait a minute!" Pretense dropped. Anticipation tried to track the speeding being. "Time to stick to a spot, Speedy!" Webbing sprayed from concealed web shooters…but missed….
Blurred-Out Hand yanked the loose web strands (and him) through the air. You seemed like such a nice guy at the Coffee Bean earlier. Don't be a jerk, especially when you know what it means to protect a secret! Jennifer rolled her eyes at him. "We finally meet. After 250 years, I'll stick where I want." She caught him with one hand. "Hate to tell you but on this one, you're really out of your league. Listen to Louise. She's Lana's aunt. I'm Miranda's aunt many times removed." She lowered him to the ground. "Go and hunt around the plane wreckage. Nothing to see here. By the way, while we've been talking, there's a third person around here. He's been emitting low level radiation." Wince contorted her face. "For what it's worth, I'm really sorry but that film of yours is toast." She shook her head.
Super speed, telepathy, and super strength? What am I dealing with anyway? Peter straightened his shirt out. He looked about the area again. "Okay. I see the angel lady. There's you. I don't see Number 3." His eyes narrowed.
"That would be him. Oh, Joe!" Louise flicked an eyebrow at Peter. She pointed right over Peter's shoulder. "Look behind you."
"Joe?" Spider Sense threatened to blow Peter's head up. "What…the…?" He turned and stared at the next sight. An energy flash coalesced into a glowing ball of light. "Great…Secret weapon or what?"
Dubois shook her head. "You've been around your sorcerer friend, Strange, right? Meet Joe…or rather Jor-El. He's Clark's birth father…or rather his astral form. Can the wise cracks. They're really not helping." Scowl darkened her face. Strange's name burned in her gut.
THAT WOULD BE ME, HUMAN. RESPECT MY SON AND HIS CONSORT! Jor-El's energy ball floated into view. It bobbed in midair. THEY SEEK ANSWERS! I FELT YOU IN THEIR THOUGHTS!
"So, you're telepathic too?" Peter sized up the glowing astral contact. "Human? Clark, Lana and she look 'human'. Maybe you were…?"
"He is…compatible…with us. He's from somewhere completely different." Louise glanced over her shoulder. "Your friend's getting impatient. Perhaps you might want to join him? You do have all of that art to see tonight." Flash of former enthusiasm warmed her for a heartbeat.
"Yeah well. There is something." Peter brought out Lana's shredded cloth. "I was going to bring this to them and ask questions…in private. Maybe you can let her know? I wasn't going to tell the police or the Bugle. Maybe you can keep it safe?"
"Definitely. Thank you. Now that is being a friend." Dubois accepted the shred from him. "There's no lie. We're just keeping the secret. I'm sure you've done the same in the past. Now, let's get you back there." She picked Peter up in her arms and sped off toward the wrecked plane.
A hopeful smile broke out on Louise's face. "I knew he'd do the right thing." Her eyes sparkled at Jor-El. "You're so grim! Come on now!"
Louise…. Jor-El's voice lowered several octaves. Doubt clouded his mind. We shall see. I wish matters could be different.
I do have to go back, Joe. I know. I wish it could be different too. Louise blew a kiss at him. Then, she vanished once again. I love you, Joe!
AND I LOVE YOU. Jor-El propelled himself back into the woods. Matters divided him to say the least….
[Airplane Wreck]
Peter wrestled with his situation. Everything blurred around Dubois and her. A floating sensation and disorientation unsettled. Then, as quickly as it started, Experience ceased. His feet rested on the ground once more. He found himself alone. "Where? What?"
Dubois and the others were long gone.
So what do I tell Ben? He and I both saw the damage. Yet… He switched rolls between his camera and pocket. I'll have to test that roll for myself. Somehow, I know those ladies and the Voice in the Glowing Ball are right. Anticipated lecture and surly trip back to the City soured his mood. Might as well try here. Right? His camera snapped pictures of burned plane, wreckage, and the surrounding landscape.
"There you are! Where the Hell have you been?" Ulrich narrowed his eyes. "I've been all over this wreck! Come on! You need to see this!" He stormed back into the ripped-up fuselage.
Yeah. This is going to be *really fun*. Peter edged into the wreckage. He stumbled over the door's lower hole. "What'd you find, Ben?"
"That's just it." Ulrich scratched his head. "You'd think there'd be bodies or blood or something! It's too clean in here. Look at the door!" He pointed at it. "Look at the hinges!"
Peter followed his lead. Sinking feeling ate at him. Don't tell me there's more proof. Okay, Super Lady, I don't think you can just bury this! If Ben's seen it, he's seen it. No wiping that out of his head! He turned and saw the door hole. He noted Broken-Off Shards left behind by shattered hinges. "Okay. So where are the hinges?" Somehow, he kept a straight face.
Satisfied, Mr. Smart Spider? Dubois snarked back.
Peter snapped a picture of the door…for a host of reasons. (And because he didn't want to deal with Jor-El again.)
"WHAT?" Ulrich pushed past Peter. "NO! NO! NO! DAMN IT! I know what I saw! They were right here!" His eyes glared at the now-broken hinges. "HOW THE HELL?" He shook his head. "Hell with it! You have pictures?"
"From this end, yeah." Peter pointed toward the woods and shook his head. "Nothing over there. I walked the entire area. Looks like I was wrong." A shrug further sold his point. "Maybe we should just get back to the City? I can get these pics developed and make deadline."
"Might as well. Come on." Ulrich conceded that point. A strange look around only stirred his inner cesspool at that point. Necessity demanded a cigarette and typed account. He started back toward the incline and their waiting car.
Peter glanced around. You're good, Lady. Must be all of that experience. I got the cover pictures. Hope that keeps the Glowing Guy off my case. He hustled after Ulrich.
Initial supposition didn't always lead to results. Agendas trumped everything in the end…or so it seemed….