Superman: Dawnbreaker (DC Icons #4)(38)
“Did he ever work with Dr. Wesley?” Lana asked.
Lex shook his head. “We have our own team of scientists.”
Clark tried to shake off everything that had happened in the past ten minutes and focus on the reason they were here. “We were surprised when we found out it was Wesley’s company that had bought the Jones farm. We assumed it was your dad, Bryan.”
Bryan set down his burger. “I’m not entirely sure what Wesley’s company is up to and how my brother fits in. But I do know this: there are precious minerals in some of the craters around Smallville. And these minerals factor into the way we genetically engineer our seeds—which has always been highly secretive. My theory is that Wesley has uncovered our process and wants a piece of the pie. But I can also tell you that my dad will crush him before he gets very far. Whether my brother is involved or not.”
The craters. Now it made sense that Wesley had those photos pinned to his wall.
Bryan glanced at Lana, who was writing all this down in a small notebook. “If you guys really want to know what Wesley’s up to,” he said, “you’ll have to visit the secret lab he runs on the outskirts of town.”
“?‘Secret lab’?” Lana repeated. She looked at Clark.
He nodded. They were on the same page. This was the best lead they’d found so far.
“Wait a minute,” Lex said, his usual grin suddenly gone. “What secret lab? I never knew anything about a secret lab.”
“I didn’t either, until a couple days ago.” Bryan tossed his napkin onto his mostly empty plate. “Corey took me. I can show you where it is, if you want.”
“Interesting,” Clark said.
“Very,” Lana agreed.
Lex was just staring at Bryan like a hungry wolf.
* * *
—
After they said their goodbyes outside the restaurant, Clark and Lana broke off and headed in the direction of her car. “A secret lab,” Lana said. “Obviously, we have to get inside.”
Clark agreed. “This could be big.”
They walked together in silence for a few seconds before Lana cleared her throat. “Hey, Clark. Sorry if I weirded you out about Gloria or whatever. I…You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
Clark opened his mouth to answer, but just then his super-hearing picked up on a desperate crying sound in the distance. This time the sound came to him without any interference, as though his ears were hearing only what they were supposed to hear.
When Clark didn’t respond right away, Lana stopped walking. “Clark?”
He heard voices around the cries now. Men laughing and encouraging each other. He heard the muted sound of ribs getting kicked. A fist smashing into a fleshy cheek. It took Clark a few seconds to understand what he was listening to.
A brutal, one-sided fight.
“Clark!” Lana demanded.
He turned to her, distracted. “I know this is kind of sudden, but…I gotta go.”
“What? Why?”
“I just…I need to be by myself for a minute. To think.” He knew he wasn’t making any sense, but his mind was stuck on the scary sounds he was hearing.
“But I’m your ride home,” Lana said.
Clark waved. “See you tomorrow, okay?” He didn’t wait around for her response. He started jogging away. From the sound of things, someone was in serious trouble. And if he didn’t hurry, he might be too late.
As soon as he’d turned the corner and was beyond Lana’s line of vision, a flash of energy shot through his entire body, and the world opened itself to him. He had that feeling again, the one he’d had when he saw Bryan’s helicopter plummeting toward his farm. He felt like he could fly. He hesitated briefly, remembering what had just happened to him in the diner restroom. But that hardly mattered now. Someone needed his help.
He ran at a dizzying speed and reached out his right arm and leapt into the air. At first it was exhilarating. He was slicing up into the sky. But just as he made it to a safe height above the buildings below, he began tipping forward. Within seconds, he was turning over in the air and falling out of the sky.
He crashed through the roof of an auto-body repair shop and slammed against the concrete floor.
He sat up, still hearing the fight in the distance.
Flying wasn’t going to work, but he had to get there. He climbed out a window and took off running instead. And almost immediately, he was at full speed.
His full speed.
The sounds were coming from the south end of town, at least a few miles away. Clark cut down a dark, deserted alleyway. He ran so fast, his jacket began ripping at the seams, the friction of his movements tearing the light fabric, the useless material trailing behind him like some kind of makeshift cape.
When Clark arrived at an alley behind a bar called Bootleggers and saw the brutal scene, his whole body went cold.
Five men were gathered around a bloody heap on the pavement. They took turns kicking the victim in his ribs. His legs. The side of his head. The man on the ground shielded his dark face with his hands, trying to protect himself, but the attempt was futile. He was getting pummeled.
Clark could somehow feel the impact of each fresh blow.
He could smell the man’s fear.
At first he just stood there, stunned by the sight of such a beating, the men shouting obscenities as they kicked and stomped and cheered each other on.