Hereafter Part 4
The swim meet was scheduled to take place at Granville High. The bus had a few more open seats for spectator students. Clark was officially going for Torch reasons, and Jordan was subbing as the photographer. Pete couldn't come because of football practice.
"Take photos of who's on the bus," Clark whispered to Jordan as he moved seats. "Hey, Jake. Megan. Mind if I ask you a few questions before the meet?"
"Sure," Megan said, snuggling up to her boyfriend.
"So, the first year Smallville's women's swim team is undefeated. What's your secret?"
Clark went through the list of questions he had prepared.
"Have you been getting any fan mail?" He watched her face intensely.
Megan gave no flinch when she answered, "No."
Clark didn't think it would be wise to press the subject right now. He certainly didn't want to be accused of psyching out the team captain before a match. But Megan's life was at stake.
"Really? Not even an occasional threat from an opposing team member?"
Megan chuckled at the question. "We're not football players; we're proper athletes. Such things are beneath us."
Clark spent the rest of the bus ride interviewing the rest of the players. He also asked if anyone had received strange messages; everyone said no. The spectators and athletes were separated when the bus arrived at Granville High. Clark wasn't too worried about leaving Megan alone since Jordan said Megan would be swimming when the shooter took his shot.
Clark scanned the people in the bleachers. Everyone who was on the bus was accounted for. Megan was participating in several categories. One was up first, so Clark had to be ready.
He surveyed the room. The pool was a newer addition to the high school. Instead of being on a lower level, it was attached to the older building, giving two walls lined with windows along the ceiling to allow for natural light. The wall behind led to the locker rooms and the wall to the right held the bleachers.
"Was it the front of her head or the side?"
Jordan thought a moment. "Side."
"So, it'll come through those windows." Clark turned to the left wall. There was only one building across the street; a church with a high belfry. "It's got to be that church."
"What do I do?"
"You stay here. Take a lot of pictures and a lot of notes. Especially if anyone from Smallville High leaves the bleachers."
"And you?"
"Guess I'm going to the church."
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
The shooter was not waiting in the church. The rest of the chapel was empty. Clark remained vigilante, keeping an eye on the swim meet with his super vision, and any approaching strangers. It would soon be the last match of the meet, and once more Megan was up to swim.
Just as Clark was beginning to wonder if Jordan had been wrong, Clark heard the front door creak.
A man dressed in camo entered the sanctuary; his face was covered in a black mask. He walked quietly, and on alert, no doubt suspicious of the opened door. The shooter held a sniper rifle, poised at the ready.
"You don't want to do this," Clark said as he stepped out of the shadows. He made sure to block the way to the belfry.
"Step aside," the shooter said. The man was speaking through some sort of filter, making him sound like he had a trembling voice.
Clark tried to use his vision and see the face behind the mask, but he couldn't.
The mask must have lead in it.
Clark walked toward the shooter. His plan was simple: overpower him, remove the gun, and unmask him. The cops would do the rest.
The shooter lowered the weapon and stepped forward. Clark reached out to grab the gun. The shooter advanced and threw a punch with his right hand towards Clark's stomach.
The punch landed, and Clark keeled over in pain.
He crumpled to the floor, gasping for air. The shooter marched towards the belfry stairs. Clark fought through the pain to turn around and grabbed the shooter's legs, bringing him down. Clark caught a kick to his chin, and he tasted blood.
Clark held on to the shooter's feet as they both struggled to stand. Clark realized he was feeling the all-too-familiar sensation of meteor rock. As they both got to their knees, a meteor rock rolled out of one the pockets. Just as Jordan described, the word "Freak" was written on it in white.
The masked man dropped the gun and began to punch Clark with both fists. Clark became winded and dizzy from the pain. He tried reaching for the meteor rock, to push it away so his strength would return. But the rock remained out of Clark's reach.
The sound of police sirens was heard outside, and the inside of the church was illuminated by red and blue lights. The shooter looked between the stairs and the door; Clark was forgotten. Grabbing his gun, the shooter made his retreat.
Clark, still gasping for air, pushed himself away from the green poison. He rested against the closest pew and stared at the word "Freak".