Legacy Part 5

Somewhere in the woods…

Eric awoke to a prickly sensation on his skin. His eyes burned from smoke when he opened them, and it took several blinks to clear his vision.

"Rise and shine." Van said, kneeling next to a small campfire. He was back to wearing his camo gear and was focused on turning a spit over the open flames. Eric could smell the roasting meat but wasn't sure what kind of woodland creature it was.

Eric looked around and observed a rudimentary campsite. There was no tent; Van constructed a small shelter from tree branches. The only visible equipment was a backpack nearby and several rifles.

Talk about roughing it. Eric moaned as he sat up from the forest floor. He was still wearing the thin hospital scrubs which did little in protecting him from all the twigs and stones. There was a fallen log nearby the firepit which Eric used as a seat. Van took a break from cooking to offer Eric a canteen.

"Poisoned?"

Van took a long swig from the canteen before holding it out again. Eric grabbed the canteen and took a long drink. The water inside was lukewarm, smelt foul, and had a weird taste. No doubt it came straight from a lake or stream.

In silence, Van turned his attention back to the meat. After poking the tender flesh a few times, Van seemed satisfied and took the spit off and handed it to Eric as he ripped off a leg and the connected thigh. The boys ate in silence. Eric found the experience of eating without a plate or utensils strange. The meat either burned his mouth and fingers or was cold. At least the meat itself was tasty. Van, on the other hand, seemed at home in the woods.

"What are we eating?"

"Jackrabbit; blacktail." Van's eyes focused on the leg of meat. "My dad took me hunting. He would always line his leave up with some kind of hunting season. He taught me all about the woods and hunting and tracking. My dad taught me everything I know."

Eric felt a twinge of jealousy. The one good thing about Belle Reve had been getting away from his dad. Life without Mr. Summers, as he was often instructed to call his own father, was wonderful. The medical staff, stupid and pathetic as they were, might order him around, but they never went on about how big a disappointment Eric was. Sometimes, Eric thought they even feared him a little, knowing about the extra-human feats he did before getting locked away. The fact that Mr. Summers didn't even want to visit his only son barely bothered Eric.

Not much, anyway.

"My dad taught me how to take a punch. So, why am I still alive?"

"Last time we met, you tossed me around like a rag doll. A knife broke against you like a twig." Van brought out his hunting knife and twirled it in his hand. "But I bet I could cut you up into tiny pieces today without making a sweat."

"And you want to know why."

Van grinned and shook his head. "The 'why' is Clark Kent. I want to know the 'how'."

"And you'll kill me if I don't tell you."

"Maybe."

"You seemed certain a few months ago."

"I got new information about you. See, as far as I can figure, you stole those powers from Clark. That's how you became that overnight sensation freshman year. Except, whatever you did, was temporary. Then you got locked up and didn't get another chance to leech off Kent until he tried to rescue Lex. I'm not sure what that makes you."

"And now you want to be the leech."

Van tapped the side of his head. "Nah. All the power I need is right here. And here," Van lifted his rifle.

Eric took another bite of meat and slowly chewed. He had valuable information and Van was eager to get it. This was the one and only bargaining chip he had, and he needed to use it wisely. Van, thinking his guest was taking too long, gave Eric's foot a solid kick.

"Start talking."

"You ain't getting it for free."

"I busted you out of that joint."

"Not my fault you played that card right away. Tell you what I do want. If I do tell you, I get Kent." If Eric could get close to Clark again, he might be able to make the transference one last time.

"Can't do that. See, if you take his powers, you're a freak again, and then I'd have to kill you…you see the problem with that, right? Besides, if you don't tell me, I could always send you back to the looney bin. Face it, without those powers you're nothing. But, if you tell me, if you help me take down the biggest freak of them all, I'll help you get away. You can have a fresh start."

Eric peered into the fire and thought over his options. Van was right. Without Kent's powers, Eric was too weak physically to protect himself. What little material wealth he had was back at his parent's house and there was no way Mr. Summers would help him.

"You gonna make Kent suffer?"

"I'm gonna kill him."

"He needs to suffer."

"Hunters, good ones anyway, don't prolong the death. There's nothing to be gained from making animals suffer. That goes for freaks too. Well…maybe one of them deserves it."

"I guess that's a fair deal." The best one I'm gonna get, anyway. "You already have what you need to take Kent down."

Eric savored the look of confusion on Van's face as he scrutinized his arsenal. Van was too busy focusing on his guns and assortment of knives he barely noticed Eric grab the backpack and begin to rummage around. The medical staff had kept news of the Smallville Shooter away from the patients, but Eric had been able to overhear a few of them talk about Van's work in the hallways. It was this way Eric had heard about the calling card left beside Cyrus's dead body. There were several meteor rocks labelled "Freak" inside the bag. Eric lifted one out, holding it in the air.

"That?" Van reached for it. "You're sure?"

"Positive. What? Don't believe me?"

"It just doesn't make sense," Van muttered, staring at the rock in his hand. "This is what causes the mutations. It doesn't hurt you, does it?"

"Nope."

"Then why…"

"Tell you what, before killing Kent you can ask him about it."

Van gave Eric a withering glare. He stuffed the rock back into the bag and pulled out a spare set of clothes from an inner pouch.

"You can wear these. That stupid sheriff's got a blockade on all the main roads. You'll have to walk at night to Metropolis. Once you're there, go to the train station. I got a locker with some cash and other supplies inside. You can use that to start a new life."

"These will barely fit," Eric grumbled as he started to change.

"You know, I could help you see your dad one last time. You might never get the chance again."

"Forget him," Eric growled. "He can go choke on that fat ego of his for all I care."

As Eric had suspected, the pants were bit too big. He would need a belt. Eric looked to Van to ask if he had any spare rope, but the look on Van's face stopped Eric short. Van's jaw was clenched, and he held a particular tight grip on one of the guns.

At the Kent farm…

Clark, once more without his powers, was forced to walk at a normal pace to meet his father in the back field. Johnathan Kent was leaning on the fence, watching the sunset. It was a rare moment for Clark to see his dad not doing work of any kind. Normally his father had to constantly be working on something.

"I thought there'd be more time," Johnathan said aloud to the open sky.

"Who are you talking to?" Clark asked, quietly coming up beside his father.

"No one, Clark. Just…thinking aloud."

"Are you sure you weren't talking to Jor-El?"

"Not everything is about your biological father." Johnathan snapped. "But he's going to be around this place long after I'm gone anyway."

"Is this about the surgery? You know, Dr. Scanlan is a very good surgeon. And the statistics say…"

"I don't expect you to understand any of this stuff, Clark. But, when you almost die, or might die, you begin to question the life you've lead. I look around here and I think 'what did I really accomplish anyway'? You're lucky, Clark. You'll never have to face your mortality. But if you did you'd find yourself reevaluating your choices too."

"Like taking me in?" Clark asked quietly as he stared across the open field. He felt his father place a hand on his shoulder.

"Clark, no, that's not…I'd never regret that. There's just so many chances I never took, and I wonder how my life would have been if I made different choices. But, I've had to live with my mistakes, and I just don't want you to go through the same thing."

"I seem to make plenty mistakes of my own. Dad, I saved Van. And because of that, he's got the chance to kill again."

"Well, you're searching for Van, right? I'm sure you'll find him and bring him to the sheriff before he can hurt anyone else."

"But that's the thing! What if I make a wrong choice and I'm not there to make it right?"

"You can't control what people do with the time you give back to them. You just have to do the best you can. You can't save everybody."

Clark turned to look at his father. No amount of strength or speed or X-ray or heat vision could help in the battle his dad now faced.

"I know."

Johnathan brought his son in for a hug. They stayed in the field until the sun finished its daily journey.