Lois bounced anxiously on the balls of her feet, her stomach twisted into knots as she raised her fist to the worn, battered storm door before her. But before she could knock, she hesitated, wondering if she was doing the right thing. After all, she wasn’t exactly an expected guest. For all she knew, her recent, abhorrent behavior might earn her nothing more than scorn and an unkind rejection. She wished she could go back in time and stop herself from being so horrible to Clark. The things she’d said to him, the insinuations she’d made…all of it made her mentally cringe as she recalled it all. She should have known better. She should have known Clark better. He never would have been jealous of her and Lex, even if he had been telling her the truth when he’d confessed his love for her in the park that day. And she knew he’d been telling the truth. Lying wasn’t Clark’s style, his secret life as a superhero aside. He’d been trying to save her from herself, from Lex…
I can’t go down that road again, she admonished herself, shaking her head. That had been all she could think of on the trip out here – the mistake she’d nearly made in marrying Lex and where on Earth Clark could have disappeared to.
Yes, she could be turned away once she knocked on this door. And she wouldn’t blame the Kents one bit for doing so. But she had to try…
For Clark, she thought with a sad sigh.
Summoning what little courage she felt she had, she forced herself to knock gently, praying that someone was awake and would answer. She held her breath and waited, straining her ears for any sound that might indicate that someone had heard her. She knew Clark would be listening with his powering hearing if he’d been there. His childhood home or not, he wasn’t the type who would just walk in unannounced. A minute passed and Lois was about to knock again when she heard the sound of the inner locks being disengaged.
“Lois?” Martha asked, blinking in surprise as she opened the farmhouse door.
“Hi,” Lois said sheepishly. She gave the woman a slight, awkward wave. “I know it’s early and I wasn’t exactly invited here…”
“Come in, come in,” Martha beckoned, unlocking the screen door, which opened with a mournful creak. “You look exhausted,” she added in concern.
Lois fought back a yawn. “I took the red-eye flight,” she admitted. “I know I should have called but I was so worked up that I wasn’t thinking clearly,” she said as she stepped into the Kent’s cozy farmhouse.
“Martha? Who was at the door this early?” Jonathan called from the kitchen. Lois could picture Clark’s father puttering about making coffee or scrambling up some eggs for breakfast.
“It’s Lois,” Martha called back.
“Lois?”
Lois could hear Jonathan putting down whatever it was he was working with in the kitchen and then his footsteps grew closer. In a moment, he appeared in the doorway, an old, but clean, dishtowel draped over his shoulder.
“Hi, I’m so sorry to intrude,” Lois said by way of a greeting. “I don’t mean to be a bother but…I needed to talk to you about Clark’s disappearance and I was afraid to discuss things over the phone.”
“You’re never a bother, dear,” Martha reassured her. “Is…” She swallowed hard before continuing and Lois could see her fighting back hope that Lois had news to share. “Did you…find anything about Clark?”
Lois took a deep breath before replying. “Not yet,” she admitted sheepishly. “But I think I understand where to start a little better now. I hope.” She fidgeted nervously as Martha led her over to the couch. Together, the women sat down, while Jonathan opted for the high-backed arm chair. “I went to his apartment last night. I’m sure he probably told you that he gave me a key a while back.”
Jonathan nodded. “He told us the night he gave it to you,” he said gently, with a far-off look in his eyes as he wandered through his memories. “He asked us if we thought he’d done the right thing in giving it to you so soon.”
Lois chuckled softly, just once. “That sounds like Clark all right. What’d you tell him?”
Jonathan smiled tenderly. “I told him if I was paired up with a beautiful woman – from his descriptions of you, of course – I’d give her my key too.” He laughed softly.
Lois blushed; her entire face heating up suddenly. She self-consciously tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear. Then she cleared her throat, wanting nothing more than to get back to the subject at hand and not on Clark’s now-obvious crush on her.
“Anyway,” she said, fidgeting again and putting her hand on the light blue luggage she’d taken from Clark’s apartment, as well as her own. “I went looking for clues. I had no idea what I was looking for but I hoped to find something – anything – that could tell me where to start looking for him. But instead of…I don’t know, some map with a big circle made in red ink…I found…well…something else.”
She pushed the luggage closer to Martha, who looked at it questioningly.
“What…” Martha began, but she did not finish.
Lois cleared her throat, finding it suddenly difficult to say the words. “I found his Superman suits.”
Jonathan and Martha exchanged a silent, panicked look which broke Lois’ heart. Instantly, she knew what they must be feeling – the worry over if they could trust her with the truth or if they should lie but potentially risk Lois missing something critical as she tried to locate their son.
“I brought them with me, figuring they’d be safer here than at his place,” she continued, nudging the luggage a hair closer to Clark’s mother. “I’m not going to expose his secret, if you’re worried about that.” She had to reassure them that her intentions were pure. “He’s my best friend even if I’ve been acting like a spoiled brat toward him lately. I’d never do anything to hurt him. I just want to…have all the facts, so I can try to find him.”
Martha slowly nodded. “He never wanted anyone to know.” She shook her head. “Although, I think he would have told you, in time. He just wanted to make sure that you saw him for who he really is first, not for the things he can do.” She reached out and patted Lois’ knee. “I hope you aren’t too upset with him for deceiving you.”
“In other circumstances, I think I might have been,” Lois admitted slowly. “But finding out like this? It just makes me all the more scared for what might have happened to him. No one has seen Clark or Superman in weeks. Which means he’s not able to use his powers to get home. Has anything like that ever happened before?”
Jonathan nodded. “Once, when you two came to Smallville during the CornFest. Come on into the kitchen. I’ll make us all some coffee and tell you all about it,” he offered, standing.
Lois nodded her thanks and stood, prepared to follow him into the kitchen. Martha stayed put for a moment. Lois watched as Clark’s mother opened the suitcase, pulled out one of the blue unitards, and hugged it to her chest before her tears started to fall. Lois put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, trying to impart some comfort.
“I promise you, Martha. I won’t rest until I find Clark. I don’t care how long it takes me.”
***
“Say it!” Luthor commanded as Nigel delivered another savage blow to Clark’s midsection, the fist feeling as though it had been cast from steel rather than flesh and bone.
Clark coughed up a small globule of blood at the impact to his once invulnerable body, wheezing with the effort of pulling in enough air to keep from blacking out. The blood hit the concrete floor and splattered there – a horrific red reminder of the beating he was taking. And yet, it was just one of dozens of such splashes of his precious life fluid covering the floor. How many beatings had he taken so far? He’d lost count. How long had he been Luthor’s prisoner? Too long. He knew where each drop of blood had come from – the big one to his right was from when Nigel had sliced his stomach – more than once – with a razor-sharp knife, the smaller, vaguely Virginia-shaped one was from his most recent split lip, the tiny cluster before his knees was only a few days old from when he’d once more coughed up blood, the old dried, nearly black blood covering the cage bars was from Nigel’s attempt to break him with a cat of nine tails…
Clark mentally shook himself out of such thoughts. It served him no purpose to follow such a train of thought down into the darkness. He had to focus on the here and now.
“Say it!” Luthor roared.
“My name is Clark Kent,” he managed through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing from both pain and determination not to give in to whatever sick game Luthor was playing at.
Nigel delivered a vicious blow that broke one of Clark’s ribs. Clark felt the bone snap and his breathing immediately changed. Each new breath felt like lava in his chest as the expansion of his lungs forced the newly broken rib to shift. Bits of his flesh tore away from his chest as Nigel ripped his hand back, readying himself for another strike with his brass-knuckle encrusted fist.
“You’re rather stupid,” Lex quipped, clearly enjoying the show before him. “All you have to do is give up on the Clark hoax and the pain will stop.”
“It’s not a hoax,” Clark growled back.
He didn’t dare give up so easily. If he let Luthor determine what identity Clark could claim, there would be no telling what the insane billionaire would do next.
Luthor sighed like a disappointed school teacher with a particularly strong-willed and disobedient student. He waved a dismissive hand in the air.
“Nigel,” he said along with the wave, in a way that suggested the man take carte blanche with Clark.
Nigel nodded, his face passive and unreadable, but a delighted fire was in his eyes. A ripple of fear coursed through Clark’s veins as he wondered in terror at what the older man would do next. Nigel appeared to be mulling over his options and Clark found himself both dreading the decision and just wanting whatever it would be to be over and done with. A few heartbeats later, he wanted that time back as Nigel stuck. The man’s hands shot forward with all the speed and accuracy of a striking cobra, and before Clark fully registered the danger he was in, his right wrist had been snapped. Clark screamed and instinctively grabbed for the injured wrist, but Nigel intercepted him and with a violent twist, broke Clark’s left wrist as well.
Pain cloaked Clark’s entire world in shades of red and black, and he mercifully passed out.
***
Lois swiped the card key into the lock on her hotel room. The green light blinked and the lock released, granting her access to the room. She shoved the door open with a bump of her hip as she dragged her luggage behind her. It was just a small, carry on suitcase on wheels but she didn’t need much. She wasn’t planning on staying in Washington, D.C. for long. Just a night or two, depending on how quickly she could locate the woman she needed to speak with. Then she would be on the next flight out back to Metropolis. She’d promised Perry she wouldn’t be gone long, now that the Daily Planet had been bought, rebuilt, and was back in operation, thanks to Mr. Stern, who wanted nothing more than to fly the paper’s success like a banner in the face of Lex Luthor. Lois didn’t blame Mr. Stern one bit. Though nothing had even been pinned on Lex, she had the nagging sensation that his ownership of the paper right before it had been bombed was more than just a way to woo her. Clark had been right – Lex had implemented too many changes, too fast, causing more than half the staff to lose their jobs or be sent to other areas of the building, resulting in serious pay cuts.
He’d wanted to destroy the Daily Planet from the inside out, leaving his own news networks to thrive in the paper’s demise.
She still had the sneaking suspicion that Lex wasn’t entirely innocent in the bombing either, but all the leads had circled back to Intergang. At least Jack’s name had been cleared, even if the two young members of Intergang still maintained their innocence. Lois allowed a tired smile to cross her lips. As blusterous and smart-mouthed as Jack could be, she missed him. He hadn’t wanted to stay in the city after being blamed for a crime he hadn’t committed, and she couldn’t fault him for that. Still, she missed having him around and, though they kept in contact over emails and phone calls, she knew Clark would have hated that Jack felt forced out of the paper.
The heavy door slammed shut behind her as she moved further into the room. She inhaled the scent of the cleaning products – a smell that had rapidly become very familiar to her as she continued her crusade to find Clark. She sighed and sat on the queen-sized bed closest to the door, letting go of the luggage’s handle as she did so. She leaned back and let herself fall backward onto the clean, white comforter. It was amazing, she thought distractedly, that all hotel rooms looked and smelled the same, no matter where in the country she went.
“Ugh,” she moaned, rubbing her temples.
The flight had been a nightmare. She’d had a mother with a screaming infant sitting next to her, a seven or eight-year-old boy who’d repeatedly kicked her seat sitting behind her, and somewhere in the vicinity of the seats in front of her – or had they been seated across the row from her? – who’d absolutely reeked of body odor, despite the fact that it was freezing out. And then there had been the turbulence. It was snowing in D.C. and, though the storm wasn’t too bad, it had made for some rough air and one of the worst landings of Lois’ life.
“I hope this trip is worth it,” she said to herself, pinching the bridge of her nose.
Clark.
It all came down to him.
“If this woman can help at all, it’ll all be worth it,” she reminded herself.
She forced herself to sit up again and rummaged through her suitcase for a minute before extracting her pajamas. She brought them into the bathroom with her, took the hottest shower she could stand, then dressed and brushed her teeth. As soon as her head hit the pillow, her exhaustion hit in full force and she was asleep within moments.
***
The following day dawned bleak and overcast. The previous day’s storm had mostly moved on but had left a trail of lighter snow showers in its wake. By the time Lois had dressed, eaten a hasty breakfast, and hailed a cab to her destination, small, frozen flakes were lazily drifting through the air to add their coverage to the snow-blanketed city. Lois pulled her faux-fur hat down more snugly onto her head and pulled on her black leather gloves with the matching cuffs and fleece lining.
She nervously tapped her fingers on her knee as the cab driver navigated the well-plowed and salted streets. Her eyes watched the city passing by outside the car’s windows, but they were as well defined as ghosts to her and she barely even noted them, not even when they drove right past the White House. Her mind was only on her destination and what she had to do once she got there.
It wasn’t long before the car stopped and the cabbie turned toward her to inform her that they had arrived and what her fare was. Distractedly, she fished the money out of her wallet, making sure to tip the man, and exited the vehicle. The cab drove off as soon as she shut the door, the driver eager to pick up another fare. Lois was left all alone facing the Themysciran Emissary. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and prayed that her source wasn’t wrong. Then she crossed the street at the crosswalk and, with bold, confident strides, mounted the steps up into the building.
Please, let me find her, she begged the universe as she got to the last step.
At the top, she took a moment to catch her breath, taking in the beautifully imposing building before her. It looked as though it had been plucked from a tourism guide featuring ancient Greek temples to the gods and goddesses of Olympus. Tall, white marble columns framed the massive doors and held up the triangular roof. Men, women, and beasts of myths and legends decorated the roofline; all of them carved with such precision that they looked alive. Lois blinked more than once at the illusion that they were moving, breathing, locked in battle, or simply watching the passersby.
“Wow,” she breathed in quiet awe of the building.
But she wasn’t here to gawk at the architecture. She was on a mission. She just hoped she could find the woman she was looking for.
A grim smile ghosted over Lois’ lips as she recalled the first time she’d heard of Wonder Woman. Clark had been missing for nearly three months at that point. It had seemed like new heroes had been popping up like daisies in the wake of Superman’s absence. But something about the woman who’d flown into a warzone, disarmed the terrorists, and single-handedly ended the conflict without so much as shedding a single drop of blood had caught Lois’ eye. Perhaps it had been because it had been a woman to do that. Or maybe it was because it felt so much like what Clark would have done. Either way, Lois had known instantly that she needed to enlist Wonder Woman’s help in finding Superman.
Getting to her had been a problem though. Lois wasn’t exactly local to Washington, D.C., and Wonder Woman didn’t keep regular office hours. Between the rescues she made and whatever private life she might have, it was impossible to predict when she might be at the Emissary. It had taken Lois months of trying and failing, but now it seemed the heroine was in town. And Lois would talk to her, if it was the last thing she ever did.
Once more determined, Lois crossed the small courtyard in front of the building and went inside. She’d taken not more than a dozen steps into the lobby when she stopped short.
“Oh my God, you’re her. Wonder Woman,” she breathed in awe as she gazed at the tall, muscular Amazon woman talking to the receptionist at the front desk. “I can’t believe I finally tracked you down.”
The woman gave Lois a guarded, but friendly, smile. “Always nice to meet a fan.”
“Oh, I’m not…I mean I am a fan. But that’s not why I’m so glad to run into you,” Lois started to explain at a breakneck pace. “My name is Lois Lane. I’m a reporter from…”
“The Daily Planet. Yes, I’ve read your work,” Wonder Woman supplied warily. “But I’m here on business. I have no time for an interview, I’m afraid.”
“Oh…no!” Lois stammered, chancing a step forward. “I’m not here for an interview. I mean, in the future, it’d be amazing to sit down with you for one,” she added hastily, hoping she hadn’t offended the woman. “At least…someday it would. But the reason I’m here today…it’s…something else. I need your help,” she continued, her voice dropping a little as though to shield prying ears from listening in. “My friend is missing and I…”
Wonder Woman’s brow furrowed in concern. “That must be some friend if you came to seek me out,” she quipped, though not unkindly.
“He is,” Lois replied, moving closer so that she could whisper her next words. “He’s Superman.”
Wonder Woman stepped back as though slapped. Her eyes were troubled as she regarded Lois. Slowly, she nodded, then waved Lois on as she turned on her heel and started down the right-most hallway that branched out of the lobby.
“Come with me. We need to speak in private.”
Lois let out a relieved sigh. Wonder Woman was going to listen to her plea for help! Or maybe, just maybe, she had some information to share with Lois. Lois tried to calm her racing heart. She squelched the flicker of hope that sprung up in her chest. Better to kill it now than to suffer the heartbreak that would come if Wonder Woman didn’t know of Clark’s whereabouts.
Wonder Woman walked with a quick, purposeful stride, easily navigating the complex series of corridors until she stopped before a large set of elegant chestnut colored doors. She pushed open the right door and held it open for Lois. Lois nodded her thanks and followed the heroine into an expansive office. Lois took it all in as she trailed Wonder Woman across the office toward a sleek, curved, polished desk.
The office was comfortable – a deep maroon carpet cushioned their footsteps – but light and airy. Here and there, swords and shields decorated the walls – all of them artfully and lovingly displayed on rich wooden plaques. There was the occasional marble bust displayed on marble pedestals as well – all of them strong, noble women; clearly heroes and loved ones from Wonder Woman’s home of Themyscira. Sunlight flooded the space, courtesy of a full wall of floor to ceiling windows lining the back wall behind the desk. To the right, a hearth burned with a merry fire. Wonder Woman gestured to the plush, maroon colored arm chairs that stood before the fireplace. Lois sat, still a little uneasy in the presence of such a powerful woman.
Perhaps it was her silence that unnerved Lois. She was used to the cheerful banter she’d always enjoyed with Superman. Perhaps it was just the gravity of the situation. Even after all these moments of trying to find leads that would bring Clark home to her, it hadn’t gotten any easy to accept the fact that he was missing.
Wonder Woman selected a few fat pieces of wood and gently eased them into the blazing fire. She studied the flames for a moment, then pushed at them with the poker that stood nearby. Satisfied, she sat across from Lois and folded her hands in her lap.
“I’ve heard about Superman’s disappearance,” she said at last, her face and voice deathly serious. “The whole world is talking about it. I never had the honor of meeting him, mind you. Unfortunately, our paths never crossed and I’ve spent the last few months back home, tending to some urgent business.” She fell silent and seemed to appraise Lois with her gaze. “Tell me, of all the people in the world, how does it fall on the shoulders of a reporter to seek out my help?”
Lois swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. “Superman is a close friend of mine. I’ve been working relentlessly since he vanished in the late spring, trying to find him…or at least what happened to him. A lot of people…people who don’t know him like I do…they think he’s abandoned us. They think he’s left Earth…gone searching amongst the stars for more of his own people. They’ve…given up on him. They don’t care about what really happened…they just want to hate him for not being around to fix the world for us.”
“Are you so sure that isn’t the case? They he hasn’t simply gone in search for other Kryptonians?” Wonder Woman asked thoughtfully, though there was no accusation there.
“I’m sure,” Lois said with all of her conviction in that one, tiny word. “I know him, Wonder Woman. He’d never do anything like that without letting the world know what he was up to. And he would have promised to come back. This disappearance…this isn’t right. Something bad has happened to him. I can’t explain how I know. I just do.”
Wonder Woman nodded solemnly. “There’s more that you aren’t telling me,” she rightfully deduced.
“I…” Lois stammered. “It doesn’t matter,” she covered a moment later. “It doesn’t affect what I’m telling you. Superman is missing and I have no clue where he is, why he’s vanished, or even if he’s still alive. And it’s killing me. Please…help me,” she pleaded, choking back tears.
“You love him,” Wonder Woman said softly, clearly moved by Lois’ emotion.
“He’s my best…” Lois said, unable to finish the statement. “Please…”
“I’ll help you,” Wonder Woman promised, “but you’ll need to tell me everything you know.”
Lois nodded. “I’ll do my best. It’s, unfortunately, not a lot. I know he went missing around May twenty-eighth…I was supposed to get married that day but I said no and…” She stopped herself. “Sorry, I’m babbling. He always used to call me out on that.” She smiled bittersweetly. “That’s all I really have. I’ve followed a ton of false leads. I’ve been all over this country trying to track down as many other superheroes as I can find to enlist their help in the search. Central City to find this Flash guy, New York City to find this guy who’s more machine than a person…”
“Cyborg, yes,” Wonder Woman confirmed with a nod.
“Right,” Lois nodded in turn. “Took me a long, long time to get in contact with him. Much longer than I would have liked,” she sheepishly admitted.
“He’s a bit…skittish…at first,” Wonder Woman allowed with a gesture.
“I took a boat out into the middle of nowhere and screamed my lungs out until I finally got Aquaman’s attention,” Lois continued, ticking each hero off on her fingers. “Spiderman, Iron Man, Captain America, Green Lantern, Captain Marvel…no one knows anything. No one has seen Superman. There’s not even the whisper of rumors of his voice being heard anywhere.”
“Batman?” Wonder Woman suggested.
Lois’ shoulders slumped. “I haven’t quite gotten that far. He’s next on my list, though he might be just as hard to find as Aquaman. I doubt the Gotham PD will give me carte blanche to go light up that bat-light of theirs to flag him down. I’m going to try, of course,” she added with determination.
“Don’t bother. He and I know each other. I’ll talk to him for you, plus a few others that I can think of,” Wonder Woman said, a steely look of resolve in her eyes.
A rush of air whooshed out of Lois’ lungs in gratitude. “You will? Thank you! Thank you so much!”
But Wonder Woman looked thoughtful and a little saddened. “I wish I could do more. I wish I had some information to share.”
“Just having your eyes – and those of whoever you get to help in finding him – is a great help,” Lois assured her, reaching across the scant distance between the chairs to boldly take the heroine’s hands.
But Wonder Woman shook her head. “I hope it’s enough.”
***
It was happening again. The bars of the cage were lit up with a bright, but sickly, green glow as the Kryptonite was exposed. Clark lay on the floor, writhing in pain, his eyes shut tight against the poisonous assault of the stone. He could scarcely breathe and when he did breathe too deeply, he coughed until he was certain his lungs were going to explode. There was a deep-seated wheeze in every inhalation and a world of pain with every exhalation.
A part of him almost wished Luthor would keep the Kryptonite exposed long enough for it to do its job and kill him. He’d known nothing but torture for…how long had it been now? Months, certainly. He’d suffered from more broken bones than he could count – many of them broken repeatedly as he continued to rail against his captors by refusing to admit to any name other than Clark Kent. He could barely stand as his broken ankles had healed improperly. His fingers were mangled and freshly broken. He doubted the bones would ever set correctly. His left eye was currently swollen shut from a black eye Nigel had given him just two days prior.
Everything hurt all the time and Clark wasn’t sure how much more he could endure.
When the relief of the Kryptonite being shut away again came, Clark was vaguely disappointed. He almost didn’t care that his death would give Luthor the final victory over him. He just wanted to be out of Luthor’s reach. He just wanted to leave his mortal body behind to free his soul from the daily torture he was subjected to.
And yet, he knew he had to fight. He just didn’t know how. Locked in his cage, powerless and physically broken, he had no hope of escape. All his hopes rested outside the walls of Luthor Tower, with Lois. If anyone could save him, it was her.
“Now, tell me…who are you?” Luthor crooned, looking down on him like a hungry predator sizing up their next kill.
“Why are you doing this?” Clark spat back, mustering up what miniscule amount of strength he had left. “Why not just kill me and be done with it?”
Luthor grinned darkly. “A tempting offer, I must admit. But…no. If I kill you now, my victory is set…over and done with in one messy moment of lost restraint. By keeping you alive, I’ve secured a daily victory. Seeing you here, groveling before me, helpless against the man you tried to tear down…it’s far too good to pass up.” He gripped the bars and leaned down to squat, affording him a better view of his victim. “I’m enjoying chipping away at you, eroding what you used to be, erasing you from memory, just as you tried to do to me. Already, the people have turned on their supposed ‘hero.’ They are convinced you left them high and dry, a fickle alien who thought himself too good for the petty problems of this dystopian planet. And it’s only January. I give it another year before not a single person even utters your name anymore and the monuments to you are torn down and discarded.”
January? Clark thought in disbelief. Has it really been that long? Lois, if you’re out there…please…find me.
“That bothers you, doesn’t it?” Luthor asked, a hungry glint in his eyes.
“That it’s January?” Clark asked, using a fraction of his remaining strength to lift one eyebrow, though his voice trembled with the effort of his aching lungs.
Luthor reached in and grabbed Clark by the collar of his suit and slammed his head against the bars of the cage with such force that Clark’s ears rang and he saw double.
“That you’ll soon be forgotten – not even in the tiniest little footnote of history,” he sneered.
“I represent an idea,” Clark said in a measured tone. “The desire to help, to bring about a more peaceful world, to bring out the best in society. You can’t erase an idea, Luthor. With or without me, that desire to make the world a better place will live on. Despite the efforts of criminals like you,” he added, half expecting the billionaire to slam his head into the bars again.
But Luthor surprised him. The man stood and dusted his palms off on his pant legs, as though touching Clark had been akin to touching some disgusting, slimy object. Although, Clark had to wonder when he’d last been blasted with the icy water of the hose Nigel has rigged up in the cellar, for the sole purpose of keeping Clark from stinking too badly. Clark was actually more surprised that the sadistic Englishman hadn’t used it to waterboard him yet.
“Shall I?” Nigel asked, jerking his head toward the cage.
Luthor pondered the offer for a moment, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve got a better idea.”
To Be Continued…
