Resurrection Part 6
At the Smallville Medical Center…
Martha Kent stood outside the room of Alicia Baker. The poor girl was resting after having her stomach pumped. Her condition was stable, but some of her vital organs were having a negative reaction to an unknown substance. The doctors were unclear how to cure her completely. Martha knew only too well the helpless feeling one felt when a loved one was in this place. Needing to do something, she dialed a number into her phone.
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Baker? This is Martha Kent; Clark's mother."
"Oh?"
"I'm sure the doctors have called you by now about what's happened to your daughter. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here at the hospital if you need me to do anything for Alicia until you can get here."
"That's very kind of you to offer. I can't think of anything right now. I do have a meeting to get into, so I won't be able to come until after."
Martha paused at Mrs. Baker's reaction. The minute she learned of her husband, or, in rare instances, her son being admitted to the hospital, she dropped everything to be by their sides.
"Well, if there is anything, don't be afraid to call."
Martha went back into Johnathan's room to see her husband trying to get out of bed.
"And where do you think you're going?"
"I got a farm to run. They can give this bed to someone who really needs it."
Johnathan began to pick at the medical tape, keeping the IV in place. Martha covered his hand in hers and looked her husband straight in the eye.
"Johnathan, you have just had a heart attack. The doctors have not released you yet. And you will stay here until they do."
Martha's headstrong husband relented and went back under the sheets.
"Martha, since I'm stuck here, I need you to do something for me."
"Of course. Anything."
Johnathan whispered into his wife's ear.
"Hello." Pete knocked on the door.
"Pete!" Martha smiled. "How nice to see you. I'm sorry to hear about your parents. Please let me know if there's anything I can do."
"Thanks, but I don't think there is. Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing, Mr. Kent. And I figured Clark would be here. He's not picking up his phone."
"I'm just fine, Pete. Been using this time to catch up on my pop culture. Lex sent me one of those portable DVD players. I've been watching The Dukes of Hazzard. It's actually pretty good. Clark's not here, though. He's working on getting an antidote to Alicia. You're welcome to wait."
"Dukes of Hazzard? You got a couple of decades to catch up on." Pete laughed.
"Why don't you fill me in over a proper distraction?" Mr. Kent motioned to the checkers game near his bedside. "I need to practice if I want to beat Clark."
"Sure thing, Mr. Kent."
Johnathan gave Martha an encouraging nod as Pete laid out the checkerboard. Martha silently left to go about her husband's errand.
On Main Street…
Bobby couldn't believe it: the girl had gills. At least, she had diagonal slits in the skin on both sides of her throat that looked like gills. Reading about science fiction in magazines and newspaper clippings was one thing. But seeing it with his own eyes brought the impossible off the page. Bobby got a clear shot of her neck for thirty seconds before they got covered by her hands.
The girl, Bobby recalled her name being Megan, didn't cry. She stood still as a statue with red eyes as she was cornered against a building by Perry White and himself. To Bobby's dismay, Perry had postponed going after the zombies. Instead, he wanted to investigate the weird mutations in Hicksville.
At Perry's request, Bobby had driven the journalist around in a rental car to visit meteor craters, the farmer with an extra finger on one hand but lacking on the other, two headed calves, and now they were going after people. According to Perry, most people he interviewed on X Styles were more than willing to talk. But in Smallville, the only people willing to talk were the ones void of hypothetical mutations. It was just the witnesses; the ones who survived the impossible or saw their loved ones succumb to it.
Several cheerleaders from Smallville High couldn't shut up about a boy named Sean Kelvin, and how he killed their friend. Dustin Crenshaw went on about how he had nearly been eaten. The Talon's barista, Jenny Bernice had been most helpful in pointing out Megan, Gill Girl, as she walked down the street.
"Leave her alone!" Bobby felt his camera being shoved aside. Growling at him was another teenager. He moved so he was side by side with Megan, putting his arm protectively around her shoulders.
"Are you her boyfriend? Is this a usual sight in this town? A girl with gills?" Perry tried to keep the conversation going.
"He is not my boyfriend." Megan shoved the boy aside with all her strength and ran off.
Perry sighed and took out his flask. He chugged two swallows before sighing again. "I haven't had this much trouble getting an interview since that stripper the governor hired." Perry took another swig. "Hey! Camera up. Check that guy out."
Through the camera lens, Bobby could see people move away from a figure in a gray tracksuit. In the light of day, the woman's skin was deathly white. The jaw was open, the body slightly hunched forward, arms dangling as it moved into the middle of the street.
Bobby gulped. Zombie.
LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
Chloe slammed on her breaks.
She had gotten in her car the same time as Clark and Van. What she could do to help was uncertain. Chloe had debated trailing after Gabriel's car to pick up every unapproved newspaper and dump them in the trash. But there had been too many volunteers willing to distribute the bundles for Chloe to succeed by herself. Not to mention, it was a small town. Even if one person got their hands on the special edition, the news was sure to spread like wildfire. Instead, Chloe decided to tail Van's truck and go to the hospital. They still needed proof Van was the shooter. If Chloe was a witness to Van's possession of the antidote, that might help their case.
Van's truck came to a screeching halt. From what Chloe could see, a strange woman with a ghastly appearance was standing in the middle of the road. She wore a gray tracksuit similar to the one Lana's attacker earlier that year had worn.
"Pedestrians belong on the sidewalk," Sherriff Adams said, slowly approaching the stranger. Her hand rested on the holster of her gun. The figure stood still, staring blankly at Van's windshield.
"Move it." The Sherriff ordered.
Chloe glanced to the side of the street, where everyone had stopped to watch the unfolding events. More people with white skin and gray tracksuits appeared out of thin air.
"I am waiting."
The words were spoken slowly and softly. But what caused Chloe to shudder was each figure said it at the same time.
They began to move again. Slowly, in the same direction. The one who had stopped traffic turned around and continued to walk down the middle of the street.
"Perry White, journalist of X Styles." Chloe groaned as the renowned journalist began to walk alongside one of them. "Is this obstruction of traffic a protest? What is your goal? What are you waiting for?"
The figures kept moving, unaware or uncaring of Perry White's questions. Bobby was a safe distance away, filming the sequence.
Chloe held her breath as one figure passed by her car. It was, or had been, a man in his forties. His hair was clipped short; a trail of drool dripped from his open mouth. The man brushed against the driver's door.
And Chloe's car was shoved to the other side of the street.
Chloe screamed as she felt the car jolt as it pushed people aside and collided with the curb. Sherriff Adams pulled out her gun and ordered the figure to get on the ground. People screamed and ran indoors. Chloe watched as Van got out of the truck, holding a rifle. With deliberate aim, he pointed the gun at the man and fired.
The man still stood. If Chloe's eyes didn't deceive her, she could have sworn the bullet bounced off its body.
Within a second, the gray figure stood in front of Van. His hand shot out, grabbing him by the throat. Van was lifted inches into the air, enough so his feet dangled over the pavement. Clark emerged from the passenger side, trying to run interference. With his other hand, and an animalistic growl, Clark was thrown across the street, his head striking the bumper of Chloe's car.
"Clark!" Chloe fumbled to get out of her car. She dodged the retreating crowd as she knelt by her friend. Clark groaned and touched the back of his head. His fingers came back red. He paid no attention to Chloe. Instead, he grabbed a nearby street sign and ran towards the figure again. The sign struck his back, the impact causing Van to fall to the road.
Van was pulled to his feet by Clark, who tried to drag him towards the truck. Van pushed himself away and pulled out the pistol he showed Chloe before. Once more, he took aim and fired at the stranger. This time, the body collapsed.
Van picked up his gun and went back to the truck. Chloe couldn't hear what Clark was shouting to Van as they sped off. Chloe's attention was held by the red stain on her bumper. The bloodstain Clark Kent left behind.
Just a few drops on a napkin will do. That's what Lionel had said.
As the chaos dissipated around her, Chloe took out a napkin from her glove compartment and wiped the bumper clean.
Chloe had it. She had the blood of Clark Kent. Exactly what Lionel Luthor had asked for.
It was over. Chloe's dad would be able to get a job. Chloe's career wasn't going to be blocked before it could start.
It was all over.