Superman: Dawnbreaker (DC Icons #4)(74)

“Keep your mouth shut!” Corey yelled to his brother.

“What happened, Bryan?” Clark could see the vulnerability in his friend’s glassy eyes. Bryan was clearly teetering. Clark had to tread lightly. “You said you wanted to be your own person.”

“My dad…” Bryan glanced over at Corey and Dr. Wesley. “He told me we’ve created a tool for peace. He said this can…help end all wars.”

Clark narrowed his eyes and began moving toward his friend. “Those men didn’t volunteer for any of this. Whatever they’re doing down there, Bryan, I’m going to stop it.”

Shifty-eyed, Bryan started moving toward Corey and Dr. Wesley. “No, Clark. It’s too late.” From his back pocket, he pulled out a syringe. Then he sprinted over to Dr. Wesley, scooping up the vial that had tumbled to the ground. Kneeling, Bryan filled the syringe with the bright green substance and injected it with a practiced ease.

Clark was stunned by Bryan’s speed.

Bryan’s face contorted wildly. He chucked aside the empty vial, his muscles already beginning to twitch, and moved away from the chopper.

“Kill that thing!” Corey shouted at his brother.

“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Clark asked his friend. He could already feel his own body beginning to weaken. He didn’t understand how or why this new substance had such a dramatic effect on him, but he felt it all the way in the marrow of his bones.

Thankfully, it wasn’t quite as debilitating this time, because the substance hadn’t spilled out in the open. He was able to resume moving forward.

Bryan’s eyes were now inflamed. He looked like he wanted to tear out of his own skin. He gritted his teeth, let out a low, guttural growl, and charged.

Clark managed to sidestep him, but Bryan spun around more quickly than Clark had expected, and he delivered a wild right hook that slammed into Clark’s ear with the force of a sledgehammer. Clark stumbled back, grabbing the side of his face. Being this close to Bryan, who had the green liquid coursing through his veins, weakened Clark even more.

But there was no alternative.

He had to fight his way through it.

Clark could see in Bryan’s eyes that he was losing himself. The drug made him physically stronger, but it also changed his psychology somehow.

“I won’t let you harm even one more innocent person,” Clark said, moving toward Bryan again, this time with more determination.

Bryan turned to Clark, let out a savage yell, and attacked.

He led with another wild right haymaker that tagged Clark near his left temple, putting him on his back. Clark blinked hard as he saw Bryan standing over him. He was stunned by his friend’s raw power. In a manner of weeks, Bryan had become a legitimate physical threat. When the men behind Bootleggers had struck Clark, their fists had broken against his skull as if he were a brick wall.

This was different.

This was going to be a real fight.

Clark leapt to his feet and stared at Bryan, who was crouching and leering with angry red eyes. Bryan charged again. They exchanged a series of frenzied, powerful blows to the body and face, then wrestled each other to the ground. Bryan ripped at Clark’s hair and gnashed his teeth at Clark’s ear.

“Kill him!” Corey shouted.

Clark elbowed Bryan in the gut before pulling back and head-butting him in the face.

Bryan scrambled backward, wiping a hand down his face. Chest heaving, he looked at the gobs of blood in his palm.

Clark thought this might stop him, but Bryan only grinned through bloody teeth and charged again.

This time Clark landed two quick body shots, then lunged at Bryan like a linebacker, taking him down hard. They grappled on the grass for several frantic seconds, until Clark slowly gained leverage and unleashed a flurry of body blows that left Bryan howling and begging Clark to stop.

When Clark finally backed off, gasping for breath, Bryan was curled up in the fetal position, whimpering.

Clark cursed himself and shouted, “I don’t want to hurt you!” He crouched there in the grass, slowly getting back his full strength now that there was a gap between him and Bryan. His lungs opened up, and he was able to breathe again. “We have to fix this thing. Before anything else happens.”

Bryan sat up, knocking himself in the side of the head with the heel of his hand, like he was trying to expel something from his brain. After a long pause, he wiped a hand down his face, smearing blood everywhere. “Those fighters will take you out in seconds. There are two dozen of them, and they’re just as strong as you.”

“I don’t care how strong they are,” Clark said.

Bryan leaned over and vomited. He retched and retched and then wiped his bloody face on his shirt. When he looked up at Clark, tears were welling in his bloodshot eyes. “My dad needed me,” he pleaded. “He said I was the only one he could trust.”

“He manipulated you,” Clark said. “Just like he manipulated the rest of Smallville.” Clark approached Bryan, putting his hand on his friend’s trembling shoulder. It made him feel instantly weaker, but he didn’t care. “Imagine all of this from above. Which side do you think is right? Which side do you want to be on? You can help me fix this.”

Bryan looked up at Clark. “Why do you even care?” He slunk away from Clark and scrambled to his feet, motioning toward Clark’s suit. “If the people in this town knew what you really are, they’d lock you away in a cage. They’d run experiments on you for the rest of your life.”