Relic
"Clark Kent to the rescue." Chloe closed her eyes in relief and gulped down the last of her lukewarm latte.
Between her Daily Planet column, normal schoolwork, and running the Torch, Chloe was stretched thin. She had not been looking forward to publishing the dismal Torch edition that was barely two pages. Pete was too busy this time of year to write articles, and the rest of her staff were just as unreliable. Then, hours before Chloe had to print the issue, Clark had shown up unexpectedly with an article. He sheepishly offered it as an olive branch; one that Chloe was grateful to accept.
Through a side eye Chloe could see Clark with a satisfied smile on his face as his article made the front page: The Legacies We Leave. The article was some of his best work; it covered the previous Mayor Tate's involvement with a murder coverup. The story was connected to a Smallville High student, Lana Lang, and Clark managed to talk about ensuring legacies that stood on moral ground that time could not erase. And Clark had every right to be satisfied with his work. Truth be told, Chloe was slightly peeved that Clark's article was on the front page and not one of her own, but an editor had to make tough calls. And all Chloe had been able to score this week had been about the swim team's unexpected winning streak. Admittedly, it was not her best work.
"That was some mighty fine journalism writing, Mr. Kent."
"Yeah, I could tell from all the red ink." Clark coughed. "You know, Chloe, maybe I can help out here a little bit more."
Chloe couldn't believe her ears. She wanted nothing more than for Clark to be back on her team. But she couldn't be hurt; not again. "Look, Clark, I get that I take the Torch too seriously for the people who only see it as a high school paper. But it's my paper. And I need people on my staff I know I can count on. Editor wise, you really let me down last year."
Clark nodded. "I know."
"So, unless you're willing to be serious about this, don't come back."
"I did more than let you down as editor last year." Clark's head hung low, his dark curls hiding his eyes. "Chloe, I'm sorry. I always seem to hurt the people I care about."
Moments like this were rare. Moments when Clark Kent showed vulnerability about what was going on in his heart. Her friend seemed so sad. Chloe rose from her seat to go over and comfort him. She wanted nothing more than to grab his hand and convince him that he could trust her and share everything that he was feeling.
But she must have been a second too late.
Clark was smiling again, his head raised. "Anyway, if you're willing to take a chance on me again, I promise I'll do better."
"Deal." The two shook on it. "I expect great things from you, Mr. Kent."
"What should I do first, boss?"
Chloe held out a clipboard that held a list of articles she had brainstormed. "Pick one. Or two. Three. Pick three."
Clark's eyes widened as he flipped to the second page. "I guess I better get to work."
"But first, your editor needs a coffee run." Chloe pointed to her empty cup.
Clark rolled his eyes. "You got it, boss."
"Welcome back." As Clark left, Chloe's phone beeped.
I am waiting.
The message was from none other than Lionel Luthor. Chloe's stomach twisted as she was reminded of the deal she had made last year. He expected Chloe to provide him with reports on Clark. What exactly the rich CEO was expecting, she didn't know. Already she had provided him with the notes regarding his adoption and a compilation of the articles Clark Kent had been reported in. Still, the man wanted more. Chloe's eyes drifted to Clark's article's notes. Mayor Tate may have been the mastermind, but the thug involved was a lone Lachlan Luthor.
If Chloe was ever to get out from beneath Lionel's thumb, she needed all the leads she could get.
Meanwhile, at the Talon…
Jordan Cross hating touching people.
The local coffee shop was crowded; there was hardly any elbow room. Jordan knew he should leave. But he had begged his father to allow him to go to Smallville high; to be a regular teenager. He couldn't avoid crowded halls for long. And it was best he get the visions over with before his first day of school.
Jordan dodged someone from bumping into his left side, only to be shoved forward from behind.
Immediately the world faded, and a veil was lifted. The stranger, the one who touched him, was getting into his car. A bullet went through his head, and the body crumpled to the ground. Jordan's sight focused on an object the shooter left next to the body: a glowing green rock with the word "Freak" written on it.
The veil closed and Jordan was back in the present. Although it felt like he had been gone a minute, Jordan knew not even a second had passed for those around him.
"Excuse me," the man said, bringing Jordan back to the present. The stranger only offered a polite smile before turning his attention to the barista behind the counter.
Jordan swallowed. No matter how many times it happened, he could never get used to seeing the way people would die. And he could sense that for this man it would be tomorrow.
Tomorrow, Lex Luthor would die.