David was crouching before Joanne, touching her arm.
"Joanne? Are you okay?"
Jeniifer Kern didn't think so. Joanne wasn't okay. The way she stared ahead, the slackness of her mouth... It was one of the signs. It was one of the reasons she stayed in Allen's hospital room instead of coming to the meetings. There was something that happened in this pleasant room with its ping pong and pool tables and many TVs. There was something in the sickly, sweet smell that clung to the furniture. She played it close, but she wondered if that had been a mistake. Sitting it all out, staying apart... Maybe it wasn't the way to be. She just never knew how to take charge. Allen was always the one who stood up. He even stood up to her mother for her once. She never had the strength to stand on her own.
She stood now. "Sue's right," she said, her voice shaking even as the words left her mouth. "There are only four of them. I... I can't be the only one who wants to just go home." She sat back down, a hand on Allen's limp arm. "After what I've lost, what we've all lost..." She turned pleading eyes to the others. "Isn't it time we admitted that this isn't what we thought it would be?" She cast an eye upward, to the vents. Once, during one of the doctor's long speeches over the PA, she could have sworn she'd seen something there. A long puff, almost like white smoke. At the time, the idea had seemed ludicrous. And there was so much else to think of... The new frontier, how special they all were, the start of something so big...
She didn't want to be a part of any of it anymore. "I just want to go home," she said tiredly.
"Home to what?" Janice came toward her, perching on the arm next to her. "To that community? Because we don't live there now. The Doc is making arrangements. We will have beautiful homes when it's over. Remember? You're going to North Dakota. I'm going to Florida. We'll pick up new and wonderful lives, Jen. And we'll have children. Special children that will never..." There was a loud yell and all eyes turned to the western wall. "What the hell was that?"
*********************************
"Oh, my God..."
It was like something out of the X-files. Though Chloe had been into that stuff, he'd always found it dark and disturbing. There were no words for how he felt about this.
Abomination came to mind, though. The fact that his blood was used for these... Children? Yet not quite. To start a life with no guarantee it could truly begin... Some were small, underdeveloped and so carelessly put in jars, perhaps to be studied later. That wasn't where they should be. If these poor, unfinished creatures should be anywhere it was a grave somewhere. They held pieces of their mothers, of their fathers, pieces of him...
He stumbled away from the fridge, drawn to the window, where the sun shone in spots through the trees. He stood there a moment, taking shallow breaths, trying to tamp down the rolling of his stomach. Nausea wasn't something he experienced often. He wondered he felt it at all, not fully remembering his last meal. But If anything could bring it on, it was what he'd seen. He straightened, holding onto the window bars. His body felt stronger, but his mind... It was to hard to wrap it around this sickness.
He found himself moving back to the fridge, standing in the open doorway. No one else should ever hold these poor creatures, touch them, prod them. It wasn't just for his protection. It wasn't just for the traces of him, the so-called enhancements. The fact that had to be brought into being was bad enough without the idea of them desecrated in the name of science. They needed to be put to rest. The work had to be destroyed.
But yet he thought of the people trapped here. With the evidence gone, then their suffering meant nothing. He stood straighter as the cold air wrapped around him.
"This happened," he whispered. "Someone should know that this happened."
******************************
Chloe... She whispered the name aloud. "Chloe." When Clark did it, it seemed like projection. But Martha Kent, tossing that name off. She almost wanted to move back through the gap, ask her why she'd called her that. Just because they looked alike? Because that was coincidence. She was herself. She wasn't...
She stopped, grasping her head.
"Hey, hey..." She opened her eyes. Bart was stopped, peering at her. "You okay?"
She shook her head. She wasn't sure she was okay. This pain, this anger... It coursed through her. "You did it. You really did it," she whispered, not sure who she was speaking to.
Bart squinted at her. "Listen, I can handle this." He took her arm. "Let's get you back. You obviously need sleep and..."
"No!" She tore her arm away. "I'm not a child, you know. And I am so sick of everyone whispering around me. I want..." I want to know exactly what was taken from me. Or did she? She rubbed at her pulsing eyes. It hurt so badly. "I want to get this over with. I want to find them." Then she could find... herself.
He nodded. "Okay."
She breathed deep as Bart moved ahead slowly, taking them away from the dense forest, were the trees cleared and small bushes dotted the area.
"The sun's getting brighter," he said.
Lois ducked behind a bush next to him. "There's practically no cover from here to the building."
They both gasped and ducked lower as two men emerged, standing together near the door. "We don't need cover. Hop on." He crouched lower and gestured to his back.
"Are you sure you're strong enough to..."
"Speed us a measly hundred feet?" he hissed. "Do you have no faith in me?"
She sighed and looped her arms around him from behind. "If you say you can..."
"Don't hold on too tight. I might start to like it."
"You..." She didn't get to finish as the world suddenly disappeared, then reappeared in the form of a blank wall. She fell off Bart's back with an "oof!" and pulled herself to her knees. "Where'd you take us?" she whispered.
"Just the west side of the building. Heckle and Jeckle are beyond this corner." They both crept closer to the corner as deep voices carried their way.
"...If we have to go back in, you wear the mask. You got it?"
"I know, I know."
"Well, we only have to wear them in the rec room, anyway. Separate ventilation system and all. But she's dosing them pretty hard. I'm talking full fail-safe. Apparently, the whole thing's been compromised. Knew that hot-head would screw it up."
"So... I mean, do we have to go to Florida? Because I have kids here and..."
"Hey, that's where the funds are. If the money isn't good enough for you..."
"I never said that. I just hate relocating. I mean, there's schools and housing and my wife's pretty picky about..."
"I can't believe it," Lois whispered, shaking her head.
Bart shrugged. "Minions are people, too. Who knew? I always thought they lived alone in dingy rooms and spent all their spare time assembling bombs. Actually nice to get a glimpse inside the..."
"No. I mean the dosing." If it was anything like what she'd done to Marcy, no one could fully communicate a thing, let alone implicate anyone. And they'd have lost everything, all they'd been through, all they were... A sudden anger took over. Her body shook with it as she stood. "We have to get them out of there."
Bart grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "What are you going to do? Walk right through them?" He held up the tranc gun. "We do have a weapon, you know."
She nodded, taking deep breaths, her head still pounding. "Are you sure you can shoot that thing?"
"You kidding? I'm a crack shot. Stand back." She moved back as he leaned around the corner. He stayed there a moment before turning back. "Damn it!"
"What?"
"Thing's jammed. Does Linda even check equipment before she pilfers it?" He pointed it downward and pulled at the rear grip.
She grabbed his hand. "Are you nuts? You'll shoot yourself in the leg."
He sighed. "Probably. Okay." He stood and hugged the wall. "Only one thing to do."
"And what exactly is... Bart?" She couldn't believe it. He'd rushed off again. She glanced around the corner at a shout. One of the guards was on the ground and the other was standing, pointing a real gun. "Who's there? Show yourself!" Lois ducked back, but his voice rang out again.
"I see you. You come out or I'm coming after you."
She gritted her teeth and put her hands up. She moved slowly around the corner. "Just... calm down. I'm not armed."
"Yeah?" He held the gun steady, moving toward her. "Then what exactly happened to my friend?"
"I don't know."
"So he just fell over?" He moved closer.
"Maybe he needs more iron in his diet," she said, eyes widening as Bart appeared behind him, holding the tranc gun by the barrel.
"That's cute," he sneered, pulling a radio from his belt as Bart advanced on him.
She tried to keep his attention on her. "Listen, there's no need to freak out. I was just out hiking and thought I'd rest here."
"Yeah?" He took his hand off the button. "And you just happened to hike through an electric fence?"
"That's a funny story, actually. See, I'm a botanist and there are some terribly fascinating... specimens around here and I was just stopping to look at one when I..."
"Stop stalling and state your business." He lowered his gun and held the radio up, pressing a button. "Doc? Copy?"
"Okay." She took a deep breath as Bart got closer. "You're absolutely right. I am stalling, Very astute of you. You wouldn't think a man of your obvious strength would have the brains to match his..."
"Unnnh!"
She rushed forward as the man fell down. "God, with your speed. You couldn't have clocked him quicker?"
Bart shrugged. "I didn't want to do anything while he had that gun on you."
She shuddered. "Good point."
"But did you see that? I've never pistol-whipped anyone before, but I just sped through and..." Bart jumped as a loud beep sounded from the ground. Bart's gun went off, shooting into the dirt.
"Peter's? What is it?" It was coming from the man's radio. "Is someone acting up? I thought you said it was secure."
"This is bad," Lois groaned.
"No, it's great." Bart stared at the gun. "I mean, think those knocks actually fixed our gun."
"No," she hissed. "I didn't want anyone else to know we were here. Someone could be coming any minute."
He nodded. "Okay." He shot at one man. His body twitched, then settled. "At least they won't have any help," he said, aiming at the other, one eye closed. The dirt rose up again and he groaned. "Damn it!"
"I thought you were a crack shot."
"Well, not at close range. I get jumpy and I over-correct and..."
"Oh, give me that." Lois took the gun and aimed at the other man, shooting him in the leg. "There."
"Well, yeah, The leg's easy. I was going for the neck. The trancs work better when shot directly into the..."
She handed the gun back and bent to the man's belt.
"Peters? Peters?"
She took a large set of keys and straightened. "We need to get in there." She nodded to the door. "That's where they are. Maybe Clark, too." But why wasn't he busting through a wall with armfuls of people? Had he been infected again? It was all too much, but she kept her mind focused. Just get in that door.
She strode to the door. "Roger?" This from the other man's radio, still on his belt. "What's going on?"
"We don't have much time."
Bart followed, holding the gun up. "I'll cover you."
"Very reassuring," she quipped. of course, as silly as Bart could be, he was really coming through. "I mean it," she said, squeezing his arm before turning to the door. "So... one of these keys. Only about forty to go through. No sweat."
*********************
Clark let himself out of the room, glancing up and down the hall. He wasn't at full strength, but if he could just get outside. It wasn't just for the sun, but so he could call Oliver, tell him where he was... He heard a voice in the room before him and moved to his right. It wasn't exactly leading outside, but he wasn't exactly operating too well, with what he'd just left. He heard a moan and turned his head toward it. It was further away, but faint. Morgan.. Whatever happened, he didn't want to leave her alone in that room with... the body. With Helen.
He took a deep breath and moved back to the room.
Morgan was still on the bed, eyes shut and body writhing. "Gotta get..."
"Shhh!" He moved to the bed and leaned over her. "We need to be quiet."
"Gotta get out of here. No good here. She was... She was right." Her eyes suddenly shot open and her hand grasped his arm. "Jo! Where is she?"
"Shhh!" He put an arm around her shoulders and sat her up. "I'll get you out of here." He couldn't make promises for the rest, not unless he could call the League, but she didn't need to hear that now. "But you need to keep your voice down. Can you do that?"
She nodded, her eyes still wild.
"Can you stand?"
She tried to move her legs, but they only twitched slightly. "I... I can't... So weak... I don't know what to... Where's Jo?" She looked down and he grasped her chin, not wanting her to see Helen's body.
"I can carry you," he said, hoping it would calm her, hoping it was true. With her pretty out of it and him at barely human strength, they had their work cut out for them. "But we need to be quiet. We... We just need to get outside." If he could gain some strength, he could more than carry her out.
He put one arm under her legs and secured the other under her shoulders. He stood, quickly turning to the door. "It's okay," he said to her and himself. "We're okay."
He took steps down the hall, trying not to buckle under her weight. She didn't look heavy, but he wasn't all there. If he could get them into the sun, he could be...
A voice. He heard a voice. "Peters? Peters?"
He stumbled backwards, holding her tight, fairly falling behind a gurney. He hit the wall and moved his legs in, trying not to breath as Morgan whimpered lightly into his chest. "Quiet," he whispered. "She can't find us." He'd never been so afraid of a senior citizen before.
A door slammed and footsteps clicked away from them. "Roger? What's going on?" The footsteps faded, but he still waited, praying his strength would return. He opened his eyes to find Morgan staring at him, her brow furrowed.
"Wanna hear something crazy?" she whispered. "Just before me and Jo came here, there was this story all over the news. Flying guy in tights."
"Yeah?" he panted. "Crazy world, I guess."
"You look kind of like..."
"I think she's gone," he broke in, pulling her with him by the waist as he stood. "Can you walk a little?"
She nodded. "Maybe a little." She faltered slightly, nearly sliding down.
He grasped her side and used his other hand to hold her her arm. "We can do this. It's not far."
They picked their way down the hallway with shuffling steps. "Who are you?" she whispered.
"Just..." He felt the weight of the phone in his pocket. "I'm a reporter," he finally said.
"Guess you're pretty involved," she panted. She sagged against his side. "I can't..."
"Almost there," he said, eyes hard on the crack of light shining through the door. Just to get there...
They nearly fell through it, spilling into the early morning sunlight, before he righted them.
He spotted a grassy area and moved them to it, hoping to let her fall somewhere softer. He held on, lowering her to the grass. "We did it. Good job, Morgan."
She stared up at him,, shielding her eyes from the light. "How do you know my name?"
He sat heavily next to her. "Been looking for you. Me and a friend." Lois. He nearly wanted to call her first. But she'd just worry, maybe jump right in, put herself in danger when... It was ironic, really, considering he was the one who got himself dragged to the lion's den and weakened. There might be some I-told-you-sos coming his way.
He nearly smiled as he pulled the cell phone from his pocket, hoping they'd be safe where they were for the moment. He smiled again when he saw it -- one tiny signal bar. He dialed quickly, listening to the ring... and ring... and ring...
"Come on, Oliver. Where the hell are you?"
**************************
"It has to be one of these," Lois groaned, jamming another in the lock.
"Oh, just let me. I'm faster."
"So fast you'll leave half the key in the lock. We need to... aha!"
"You got it?"
"It's turning," she said, smiling.
"Good for you."
She froze. That wasn't Bart. She glanced to her right, past Bart who pointed his gun.
Of course, the woman had a gun, too. And hers probably had something a lot worse than trancs.
She straightened. "Lizzie Albright."
"Lanie Cameron."
"It's Lois Lane. But I guess you know that."
"Yes. Lois Lane. Star Reporter for The Daily Planet. Why don't you tell your little friend to drop his weapon?"
Bart puffed up. "Why don't you take a nap like a nice little old lady?" She watched Bart pull the trigger, but Lizzie didn't fall.
Lizzie smiled. "Very amusing." She turned back to Lois. "I have an associate that seemed very interested in you. That's just why you live.. for now." She turned to Bart. "You, however..."
And he was gone. Lois couldn't fault him, considering that bullet with his name on it.
"What the hell..."
"Never mind him," Lois said. "He's not the one you want. I am, apparently. But why?"
"How should I know? I wasn't always in the loop. And our project has further weakened thanks to your friend."
Lois stepped forward, but Lizzie cocked the gun. She stopped, keeping her hands in front of her. "Where is he?"
"I don't think you need to worry about that."
She let out a shaky breath. "If you're thinking of killing us, I'd think twice. More people than us know about this place. It's over."
"You think all my hopes hand on this dump?" She leaned forward and grasped the doorknob, turning it all the way. "And it's far from over. I suspect your friend has an answer or two for me. Make sense of all of this mess. Then next time..." She sighed. "This wasn't my ideal ending, but I can start again very easily anywhere I want." She waved her gun at the door, opening it just a crack. "Why don't you step inside, Dear? You'll feel much better soon. All of you." She smiled softly. "This will all be but a dream."
Lois swallowed hard.
She knew. She knew all too well what that meant. "Dream, huh? Is that the fail safe? You got Kevin Grady stashed in there somewhere? Or are you going to force-feed us whatever special prescription you gave Marcy Proud."
Lizzie's eyes widened and she moved the gun closer as Lois mentally kicked herself. She really had to stop taunting people with guns. "The two of you are better at your job than I thought."
"And there's more than us, so you might as well..."
Lizzie's eyes narrowed as she grasped the doorknob herself. "I really don't have time for this. And I really don't care what you think you know. You won't know it for long."
"So Grady was involved..."
"Grady was a soft-headed drunk," Lizzie snapped, "who couldn't handle much of anything. I have no idea what he's doing with himself, though I suspect it involves single malt whiskey. We never needed him. I always have a plan B."
"Yes. Dose them up with your chemicals, turn them into raving lunatics. How very humane."
"Fine words from the woman who shot up my guards."
"With tranquilizers," she shot back. "Nothing near the mind-rape you have planned." Lois flinched as the gun poked her neck.
"I could just kill them. I could kill you very easily. Would that suit you better, Dear?"
She swallowed. "Not specially."
"I tend to draw the line at killing. Very unsavory act. But I will do what I have to. The work matters." She cocked the gun. "Open the door."
Lois put her hand on the knob and turned. She had wanted in that room. Of course she wasn't sure how bad she wanted it anymore, being on the business end of a gun. Having no other options, it was always best to do what the nice lady with the gun said. At least she'd find the couples. Whether she'd be able to tell their story was another matter. After all she'd lost, there was more to lose.
Lois stepped back as the door swung open. She hardly had time to marvel at the faces, just crowded together, staring at them, before Lizzie pressed the gun into her back. "Oh, David, George... Can you come out here for a moment?"
A tall man closed his eyes, then started forward as a short, squat man took one step and stopped. "What's going on here, Doc? Your guys just hustled us in here and..."
Lizzie pressed the gun harder against Lois' back. "I know this seems ugly, George" Lizzie said. "But I can explain later. I just need some assistance."
A slightly heavy-set woman with curly hair put her hand on the squat man's arm. "George..." Her eyes filled slightly as she stared at Lizzie. "Doc, I've put up with a lot, but the guards just..." She looked past both Lois and Lizzie, her eyes widening. "The guards... Wha... What's going on?"
"Something I've always feared, Janice. This woman is very dangerous. She has injured Roger and Peters. I need them taken in so I can assess the situation." She nodded at George and he moved forward.
"But... why were we locked in? You've never done anything like..."
"Yes, she has," a painfully-thin woman sneered. "You just don't realize it, you nitwit. We're not exactly guests here."
"Now, Sue," Lizzie chided as she moved slightly back for the men to pass. "Try to be a team player."
"Are you all crazy?" the thin woman shouted. Was she Sue Terry? She seemed so diminished somehow. "Just leave. She can't stop us from..."
"Oh, shut up!" Lizzie pushed Lois to the doorjamb and held up her gun. "David? George? Get them in." Sh waved the gun.
The curly-haired woman, Janice, stared at the gun, shaking her head. "No..."
"I knew it," Sue sneered.
"David, George... Today." She held her gun on them as they picked up one man, hefting him through the door.
Lois shrank back as they moved past her with curious, fearful looks.
"Stop." They froze as Lizzie grasped a mask, pulling it roughly from his belt, then throwing it to the dirt outside. "Just put him down anywhere," Lizzie ordered as Janice started to sob.
The taller one, David, seemed to be aiming for the couch, but George dropped his lower half on the floor. "Punch me?" he muttered.
David let down his half slowly and stared warily at Lizzie. "What exactly is going..."
"Don't forget Roger," Lizzie broke in, waving her gun before aiming it on Lois again.
The men moved past, picking up the other guard. Lizzie stopped them again, grasping another mask and a set of heavy keys, like the ones now dangling from the outside knob.
"The couch," David said, staring hard at George.
George looked mutinous, but moved to the couch.
"Thank you." Lizzie took a deep breath. "I... I do wish things could have been different. Really. I wish you all well." Lois turned back to Lizzie, fully expecting to be pushed inside with the rest. But she surprised her, grabbing her arm and pulling her outside, closing the door. She placed the other keys in her pocket. "It doesn't have to be this way for you." She dangled the mask in her free hand. "Just tell me one thing."
Lois was silent.
"Your friend. Why did Helen bring him here? He's one of them, isn't he?"
"One of who?"
"Don't play dumb."
"I'm pretty sure he's... Lutheran."
"You're a reporter," she said impatiently. "You have to know what Grady really is. Bet you have him in your files somewhere. So what about your phony husband? What's so special about him?"
Lois stared at her. Clark seemed to think her memory loss was connected to Met Vista. If that was so, wouldn't Lizzie know her connection to Grady? Even so, she was not about to ask. She didn't exactly care to exchange information with mad scientists. "Him?" She smiled. "Great card player. Maybe Helen wanted to start up a weekly poker night."
"I'd stop the wise cracks if I were you. I have him, you know," she sneered. "But he's weak, locked away with what's left of Helen after whatever the hell he did to her."
She shook her head frantically. "No. Clark would never..."
"Well, he did," she said, her voice betraying a trace of bitterness. "And I won't be leaving him behind. The only variable is how will I leave you? Intact or... otherwise?"
"I... I think... I'll take my chances," Lois finished firmly.
There was a new sound. She'd heard it before and she hardly dared to hope, but chopper blades sliced the air and she found herself smiling. She looked up, waiting for something red and white to appear above the trees. Her face fell as a large, black chopper crested the treetops and started to lower itself to the ground.
Lizzie glanced back, waving an arm to the chopper, then turned back to Lois. "I will find out what he is."
Lois lifted her chin. "Not from me."
Lizzie grunted disgustedly and tossed the mask to the ground as she pulled the door open, shoving Lois in.
******************************
"Damn it!" Clark cursed cell phones in general, cursed his own powers, cursed the fact that he had very few numbers committed to memory. "Morgan? How you doing?"
Morgan's head lulled against him. "Mmmfine."
"No. Come on. No one's sleeping," he said, closing his eyes. Not even him, as nice as it sounded. Even with the rising sun, he felt weak. He tried to remember the last time he slept, real honest sleep, the kind that came form being delirious with fever not counting. "We might have to... run," he finished on a breath as loud noises assaulted him. His hearing was still working overtime, kicking in for everything else that seemed so weak. But he knew that sound. A chopper. He looked up, squeezing his eyes early shut, trying to focus, trying to see ahead... Black helicopter. Not Ollie. He glanced around. And they were in plain sight. He stood weakly, bent down to Morgan.
Come on... Please...
He picked her up, only faltering once as he straightened. "Hold on tight," he panted. He felt her arms weakly encircle his neck and it was enough. He stepped, relieved when he shot forward. But it wasn't long before he sputtered to a stop, grasping at Morgan to keep from dropping her. But they were out of the open, at least, dense trees before them and the building behind. He backed up, only slumping down when he hit the wall.
He helped her to his side as he leaned back.
"What... What the hell just happened?"
He turned weakly to Morgan. "Nothing, apparently." He was still weak and tired and he wanted nothing more than to lay back and let it slip away. But he didn't have that luxury. He never did.
******************************
"Who the hell are y..."
"Shhh!" Lois pressed her ear to the door, trying to hear something. Lizzie was saying something, but the chopper blades were still going and the door was thick. "Damn it!"
"Excuse me..."
She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. It was the taller one. "David? David Terry?"
His brows furrowed. "How do you know my..."
"There's no time to explain. But we have to get out of here. Probably about now." Separate ventilation system.... All this will be but a dream... She looked up at the high windows, heavily barred, then at the vents... which would in no way be a safe way out, unless she wanted to get hit by whatever concoction Lizzie was about to give them... "Vents won't work," she muttered. "Windows are no good." She moved to the couch. "Do you think we could use this on the door? If we all take a side..." She pushed at the couch, then straightened, turning back to David. "Well, come on."
"Now just wait a second." It was the short man, George. "Who are you to come in here and tell us what to do?"
"Don't anyone listen to her," the curly-haired woman piped up, sniffling. "She's dangerous. The Doc said..."
"Oh, for Christ's sake, Janice." It was the thin woman now. "The Doc just held a gun on us."
"No. It... It just looked that way. She was holding a gun on her. You... you heard the shouts outside. That woman is..."
"Dangerous. Yeah. And the Doc shoved her in here with us. Gonna make the Doc a saint over that, too?"
"Sue, calm down," David pleaded. "If we just discuss..."
"I don't want a discussion. I want answers." Sue stepped to Lois, folding her thin arms. "So... Are you a dangerous psychopath or..."
"Well, of course she's not," a southern voice drawled. "I do know the woman."
Lois looked to her right, nearly dizzy with all the back-and-forth. "Mitzi?"
"Her name is Lanie Cameron. She's in your old house, Sue." Mitzi pulled Lois to her ample bosom. "Oh, Lanie. I am glad to see you, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this place is not a fertility camp. I have been hearing some awful..."
"Lies," Janice growled. "You talk to Sue and that's all you'll hear."
"Watch yourself, Janice," Sue growled.
Janice laughed. "Over you? You... skeleton. It was you that ruined it for the rest of us. I just know it. Because this is not how it was."
Mitzi shook her head. "Well, I don't know how it was and I really don't care. My ovaries can just dry right up. I just want to go back to my life."
"Life of lies," another voice drawled. Lois turned to see Bob pushing away from the corner.
Mitzi put her hands on her hips. "Oh, so you're talking to me now?"
"Mitzi, I just don't understand. We go to bed, wake up here and damned Lizzie, of all people, is going on about your ovaries and treatments and..."
"Oh, Bob. Not now."
"Yes. Now, Lizzie," he said firmly. "The way I see it, no relationship works on lies. So you tell me again about my sperm."
Mitzi pursed her lips. "Oh, I lied," she finally cried out. "Is that what you want to hear? I was a big, fat liar. It was all me. The entire reason we couldn't have children was me. Okay?"
Bob stared at her, then nodded. "Okay, then. So why didn't you tell me?"
"Well, Dodie thought..."
"Oh, for peaches... Who the hell cares what Dodie thinks?"
"Dodie happens to be my friend and I..." Mitzi's lower lip trembled and she turned away from him and back to Lois. "I was afraid you were gonna leave me."
"Sugarpie," Bob moved to her side. "Did you really think I'd ever leave you? Who'd have me?"
Mitzi turned slightly, blushing. "Well, you were spending all that time in the city, away from home and..."
"But, Honeypot, that was before we got our cable in." He grasped her double chin. "Larry had ESPN."
Mitzi sighed and her eyes filled. "Oh, Bob..."
Lois clenched her fists. As declarations of love went, it wasn't her cup of tea. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was the noxious gases that would be filling the room any minute. "I really need all of you to listen to me. And now. I found a way out of this place, but we need to get out that door first. So if anyone has any ideas..."
"But I don't understand, Lanie. How did you end up here?"
"Mitzi, I really can't..."
"Where's Kent? And how do you know so much about..."
"Fine," she said, throwing her hands up. She backed to the door and faced the room. "My name is not Lanie Cameron. It's Lois Lane. I'm a reporter for the Daily Planet."
"Lois Lane?"
"Yes. My name is Lois Lane and..."
"Lois Lane!" Mitzi squealed. "Well, I never would have guessed it. Aren't you the one who wrote that story on Superman?"
"Superman?" David squinted. "What..."
"Oh, you have been away," Mitzi said excitedly. "Well, you'll just never believe it, but the man flies and he has these laser beams that shoot right out of his eyes and..."
"We can fill everyone in on current events later." Lois glanced nervously upward at the vents. "Right now, we need to get out of this room. I have a helicopter waiting outside the boundaries to take you all away. So..." She clapped her hands, waiting for the flood of ideas. She didn't exactly have any. "Well... you've all been here a while. What do we do? I mean, the couch doesn't look too strong, but... it could... work as a... battering ram," she finished lamely as they all stared at her. "Well?" She clapped her hands again. "Let's get going."
Janice stepped forward. "So... you're a reporter? That means we should just go with you?"
Lois stepped up to her. "I've been looking for you, for all of you." She turned to the others. "My partner and I have been undercover, hoping to expose the reason for your disappearances."
Janice shook her head. "We've been here of our own free..."
"Just stop it, Janice," Sue groaned. "We were drugged and we woke up here."
"But we stayed. We stayed because we..."
"Because you've been kept complacent," Lois said, almost to herself. She looked up at the vents again. They were locked in a room, yet no one made a real move to get out. They saw Lizzie wave a gun around, yet most still stood there, staring dumbly, like sheep, waiting for direction. "Listen to me," she said loudly. "Any moment, those vents are going to release a chemical concoction that will turn us all into mindless drones." And how much damage had been done already? She looked toward a small sofa. A frazzled woman with red hair sat with a man who was staring ahead of him, but at nothing. She then saw another woman, perched on an ottoman. A woman with dark, close-cropped hair. "Joanne?" She moved toward her. "Joanne Moody?"
The woman turned to her, but her eyes seemed so empty. "She's fine. Morgan's just fine. It's going to be okay."
Lois patted her shoulder and turned to the others. "What exactly happens in here?"
George shrugged. "Just the meetings."
"Meetings?"
"Well, we come here for pool or ping-pong, but we have the meetings, too."
"And what happens then?"
"Just announcements over the PA and all," Janice supplied. "I don't know what you're..."
Lois narrowed her eyes. "Announcements from Lizzie. And Lizzie isn't in here with you?" She looked up, noticing the speakers mounted on the wall. "What are these announcements?" She turned to Janice. "Janice, what do they say?"
"Uh... just stuff. I don't... I don't remember."
"Because you aren't supposed to," she said quietly. "My God... She's been programming you all along."
Janice shook her head. the rest of her shook with it. "This is ridiculous. I can't listen to this. I..."
"I believe her," the red-haired woman said, rising from the couch. "My Allen... she... she did this to him."
"But... no." Janice grasped Lois' arm. "Lizzie's not like that. Even Marcy vouched for her. And Marcy's not..."
Lois took her hand from her arm and squeezed it. "No. Marcy's not. And you should see what she did to her."
"To... Marcy?"
"Janice," Lois said softly. She knew how it felt, trusting someone, finding out they were lying to you, had been lying to you all along. Maybe... lately... all too well. "Don't you know I'm telling the truth? Deep down?"
Janice closed her eyes, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I don't kno..."
There was a loud scream and the sound of breaking glass. Lois pulled Janice back as several shards landed at their feet.
She looked up as a grappling hook met with the bars in one of the windows. The bars suddenly disappeared in a whirl of plaster dust. She covered her eyes, then looked up again, coughing as a familiar face appeared in the hole left behind. "Well, hey Gorgeous. Weren't about to give up on me now."
Lois smiled. "Never, Bart."
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