Nancy Adams walked through the front door of the Sheriff’s Department, taking off her hat as she did so. She approached the coffee machine and poured herself a cup. As she raised it to the cup to her nose, she caught a whiff of the coffee and cringed, but took a tentative sip anyway. Her face contorted in disgust.

“Can’t any of you assholes make a decent cup of coffee?” she asked the deputies milling about the station.

“Workman’s only as good as his tools, boss lady,” said one of the deputies, hunched over a computer. “That coffee machine’s been here since the Batman rumors started comin’ outta Gotham.”

“Still works, don’t it?” Adams walked past the deputy’s desk and looked at his computer. On the monitor was a photograph of a man dressed in blue with a red cape, duking it out with a creature of some sort whose head was nothing more than a skull surrounded by purple flame. “Reading the tabloid garbage again, Fordman?”

“It’s that Superman character outta Metropolis, Sheriff,” said Deputy Whitney Fordman.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You don’t think all these aliens and Amazons and whatnot aren’t worth reading about?”

Adams sighed. “Kid, all I care about’s keepin’ order in my town.”

“Oh, by the way, you got a visitor.”

Adams looked at her office door and could see a silhouette through the fogged glass. She rolled her eyes and gently slapped Fordman on the back of the head. “That’s the kind of thing you tell me as soon as I walk in the door.”

“Geez, sorry, ma’am.”

Adams walked to her office door. “Get back to work, will ya?”

Fordman rolled his eyes. “What do you expect? Nothin’ happens in Smallville.”

Adams opened the door and stepped inside. She was a little surprised to see a man in jeans and a red, flannel shirt that looked a few sizes too big for him. The shirt was unbuttoned and beneath it he wore a blue t-shirt. He stood, pushing his glasses up the rim of his nose.

“Sheriff Adams, I’m not sure if you remember me—”

“Clark Kent,” said Adams, offering her hand and smiling. “Well, ain’t this a surprise. Mr. Big City Reporter himself. Ran into your mom at Costco about a week or so back. Couldn’t stop bragging about how her boy’s a famous reporter for the Daily Planet.”

Clark gave a nervous chuckle. “Hardly. I mostly just write about human interest pieces for the Planet.”

Adams placed her hat atop a rack and took off her jacket, draping it on a hook. She settled into the chair behind her desk and set her elbows on the surface.

“Back in town for the reunion, I take it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now I may not be some Metropolis detective, but I get the feelin’ that you ain’t popped in here for a visit,” said Adams. “So what can I do you for, Kent?”

“I…heard about Mr. Braverman…”

“Yeah, real tragedy that was.” Adams’ comment seemed sincere, but there was a hint of sarcasm in her tone. Apparently, she wasn’t too broken up about the death of Kenny’s father. “Andy was a miserable sonnuva bitch. Had him sleep it off in the drunk tank at least once or twice a month. Was like that ever since his wife passed. Figured sooner or later somethin’ would’ve happened. Though truth be told, I always expected him to drink himself into the grave. Never did take him for the suicidal type.”

“And you’re sure it was a suicide?” asked Clark.

“Found him dangling from a rope tied to the balcony, ME said he had a broken neck, what else do you think it’d be?”

“Have you spoken to Kenny at all?”

“Yeah, I did. Poor guy’s broken up about it. I know he an’ Andy weren’t exactly close, but he was the only family Kenny had.”

“Seems a little strange, doesn’t it?” asked Clark. “Same day Kenny comes back to town, his father turns up dead?”

Adams arched her brow. “Just what are you gettin’ at, son?”

Clark looked down sheepishly. “Nothing, just curious at all.”

“Right…” Adams gave a cursory nod. “Well, I know you spent some time abroad after college, and now you work in Metropolis, so those experiences may’ve colored your view somewhat. But this ain’t Metropolis, Clark. You find a guy hangin’ from a noose, that usually means he strung that rope up himself. Not really much call for elaborate suicide staging down here.”

“I guess you’re right.” Clark felt a vibration against his leg. He shifted in his seat so he could pull his cell phone from his pocket. The screen showed a new text message. “Sorry to bother you about this, Sheriff.”

“No problem at all, just wondering why you’re so curious.”

“Curse of being a big city reporter, I guess.” Clark rose from the chair and offered his hand. “Thanks for your time, Sheriff.”

Adams stood and shook his hand once more. “Anytime, kid. Tell your mom I said hi.”

“I will.” Clark turned and left Adams’ office. He gave a nod to some of the deputies as he past and walked out the front door.

Once he was back on the sidewalk, he called the person who texted him. The recipient answered and started talking right away.

“So you ready to tell me what you’re sniffing around for, Smallville?” asked Lois Lane.

“Hi Lois, I’m fine, thanks,” said Clark. He could have sworn he heard Lois’ eyes roll.

“Whatever, Kent. Okay, so I looked into that guy you asked me about.”

“And…?”

“Kenneth Braverman, enrolled in the Marines, and then…poof.”

“‘Poof’?”

“It’s like he disappeared. All his military records are classified. So that got me thinking, what else about this guy is classified? So I did some more digging. Pretty basic stuff—except for his medical records. Turns out those were sealed, too.”

“Medical records as well? That’s odd, isn’t it?” Clark walked across the street to where Lana’s car was parked. He climbed into the passenger seat.

“Damn skippy. But lucky for you, I’m better than the average reporter. I asked my military contacts about this Braverman kid, and it looks like he was involved in something called ARGUS.”

“ARGUS, huh? Never heard of it. Some special unit?” asked Clark. He held up his finger when he saw Lana’s questioning gaze.

“More like a shadow agency within the military. That’s really all anyone was willing to tell me.” Lois sighed. “Clark, I’m not sure what you got mixed up in here, but this Braverman kid? Seems there’s something strange about him. Why are you asking about all this anyway?”

“I went to school with him,” said Clark. “Think he might have killed his father.”

“Do me a favor—stay away from him, okay?”

“Right, sure thing, Lois. Thanks.” Clark ended the call.

“Lois? That reporter from the Planet?” asked Lana.

“Yeah, I asked her to look into Kenny.”

“Why her?”

“Her father’s a general, she can get information I’m not able to. Not as Clark Kent, anyway.”

“And what’d she say?”

“Virtually his entire military career is classified,” said Clark. “I think the government has been using metahuman soldiers. Worse than that, I think Kenny was one of them.”

SMALLVILLE

Part III

By Dino Pollard

Smallville High

Clark climbed out of the passenger side on the car, adjusting his tie. Lana got out the driver’s side and closed the door, looking over the hood at her boyfriend. Clark felt his gaze on her and looked up perplexed, wiping his cheeks.

“What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Lana, casting a furtive glance in the direction of the school. “Aren’t there more important things to be doing?”

“It’s fine, Lana,” said Clark, walking around the car and taking hold of her hand. “You heard what Kenny said when we ran into him at the station—he came back for the reunion.”

“Yeah, but…” Lana sighed. “What about what he can do? He does something to you. Besides, what are you going to do, have Superman crash the reunion?”

“Of course not. But I have to keep an eye on him,” said Clark. “From a distance, I promise.”

Lana took a deep breath. “Okay. Just promise me you’ll give him a wide berth.”

“Absolutely.”

She wrapped her hand around his arm just above the elbow. “I think this is a bit more appropriate for people our age, Mr. Kent. We’re not teenagers anymore, you know.”

Clark gave her a smile. “Of course, Ms. Lang.”

They crossed the distance from the parking lot to the front entrance of the school, arm-in-arm. The lights were bright in the school entrance with a banner hanging over the front labeled WELCOME HOME, CLASS OF 2006.

A table was set up just past the entrance, where a blond woman in a short, red dress sat behind. She smiled at the two arrivals and rose to greet them. “Welcome back to the nest, Crows!”

“The nest, huh?” asked Lana. “Isn’t that a little cheesy, Alicia?”

Alicia Baker, student council president their senior year. She rolled her eyes. “I know, I’m sorry. Reunion committee voted it in.” She clapped her hands and looked down at the name tags. “So, let’s see here…”

“Clark Kent and Lana Lang,” said Clark.

“Oh, right! Of course.” Alicia picked up the appropriate name tags and passed them to both Clark and Lana. “Wait…are you two…still together?”

“Yup, long time now. Since college,” said Clark.

“Wow, I’m sorry, I had no idea. Congratulations!”

Clark tipped his head at an angle. “On what?”

Lana took a breath. “We’re not married, Alicia.”

“Oh…” Alicia paused in embarrassment and looked down at the table. “Well, I think that’s great. Y’know, times have changed. And aside from tax breaks, if you’re not religious, living together is just as—”

“We…don’t live together,” said Lana.

“Ahh…” Alicia sucked air through her teeth. “Okay, I’ll…see you inside.”

Clark and Lana walked past the table and into the gymnasium. Clark glanced down at Lana. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, just need a drink.”

Lana kept her grip on Clark’s arm, pulling him towards the bar that had been set up. She ordered two beers and handed one of the bottles to Clark. He took it, taking a sip as he looked around the gym. Music from the early 2000s played through the speakers and the DJ was set up on the stage. A few people were dancing, but most were just greeting each other and catching up on old times.

“Alicia looks good,” said Clark. “Do you know what she’s doing now?”

Lana shrugged. “Last I heard, she was in Opal City.”

“That explains it.”

“Explains what?”

“Well, why she thought we were married.”

“Yeah, certainly explains it…” Lana muttered before taking another sip.

Clark blinked. “Lana, is there something we need to have a talk about?”

“No.”

“But—”

“Clark, I said it’s fine,” said Lana. “Now just concentrate, okay? Do you see Kenny anywhere?”

Clark looked around the gym. From a distance and in the low light, it was difficult to make out faces. So he tipped his glasses down his nose and used his telescopic vision. Kenny’s face wasn’t among any of the men in the gym. He focused his x-ray vision, scanning through the walls. Still nothing. The entire time, he’d also been focusing his hearing, trying to pick out Kenny’s voice somewhere in the surrounding area.

“Nothing, can’t see or hear him anywhere.”

“Was his name tag on the table when we came in?”

“I don’t know, I can’t get a good look at it from this angle.”

“Okay, so let’s split up,” said Lana. “Mingle. Maybe someone’s seen him.”

Lana walked away from him, moving around the gym and greeting different people. Clark remained by the bar, sipping his beer and also keeping a watchful eye out for Kenny. He was so focused on the task that it took a few tries before he realized someone was calling his name.

“Damn Kent, what’s wrong with you?” asked Pete, slapping him on the arm. He cringed and pulled his hand away. “Wow, seems like someone’s been working out.”

Clark tried to laugh it off. “Yeah…just a little.”

“But you still haven’t managed to fill out your clothes,” said Pete, tugging at the sleeve of Clark’s jacket. He cast a look in Lana’s direction, then whispered to Clark. “Hey listen, everything okay with you and Lana?”

“Yeah, of course.” Clark paused. “Why, did she say something?”

Pete hesitated then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just…ah, it’s nothing. Forget it. Being in politics, you start to think every couple is dysfunctional.”

Clark detected an irregularity in Pete’s heartbeat. He was lying, Lana had said something. He’d have to talk with her later, figure out what was going on. But before he could worry about that, he started to feel lightheaded. The beer slipped from his hand and fell on the floor, shattering.

“You okay, buddy?” asked Pete.

Clark blinked, trying to clear the blurriness from his vision. His eyes briefly focused and he could see Pete looking at him, mouthing his name. But there was a ringing in his ears and Clark couldn’t hear him. He shook his head and the sense of vertigo started to fade.

“—lark? You hear me?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m fine.” Clark stood upright again and rubbed his head. There was still a dull headache.

“How many of those did you have?”

“Umm…about half of one,” said Clark.

“Geez, you’re a real lightweight, farmboy.”

Clark looked around the gym. Kenny was here, had to be. He moved through the crowd of students and then he realized where his target was. He could see Lana just ahead of him, talking to a guy who had his back to Clark. And Lana looked uncomfortable with the conversation, but her face brightened for a moment when she saw Clark.

“Oh, here he is!” said Lana, moving away from Kenny and over to Clark’s side. She placed her arms around him, seemingly the act of a loving girlfriend, but also to help steady him from the effect of Kenny’s abilities.

“Ahh, Kent,” said Kenny, turning to face Clark. He was clad in his military dress uniform and took a swig from the beer bottle in his hand. “I was just asking Lana here why you haven’t made an honest woman of her yet.”

“We’ve got a lot of other things going on in our life right now,” said Lana. “Not really the best time for marriage.”

“R-right,” said Clark, blinking. “Kenny, I heard about your father. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Kent.” Kenny looked as if he were trying to suppress a smile. “These things happen, y’know. What am I saying, of course you know. Your dad kicked the bucket, too.”

“Kenny!”

“Of course, you got the luck of the draw, didn’t you?” asked Kenny. “Orphaned kid, gets adopted by one of the most respected men in town. Me, I was born to a drunken bastard who blamed me for my mother’s death. And now look at us—I’m a war hero. I’ve served my country. But you, the geek I used to beat up, gets my girl. And doesn’t even have the decency to put a ring on her finger.”

“Back off, Kenny,” said Lana, stepping forward.

Clark had trouble focusing on the conversation. He felt dizzy, like he was about to throw up. He suppressed the urge and stumbled, trying to keep himself up on his feet. Then he heard Kenny’s laughter.

“Look at him, can’t even hold his liquor,” said Kenny. “This is who you left me for, Lana? This sorry excuse for a man?”

Kenny lunged at Clark, striking him with a punch in the gut that forced Clark to keel over. What surprised Clark even more than the punch was how much it hurt. This wasn’t like in high school, when his powers were still developing. Since becoming Superman, he’d been shot, stabbed, blown up, thrown through buildings, set on fire, and far worse. But nothing had hurt him like Kenny’s sucker punch.

“Clark!” Lana dropped to the floor beside him, trying to help him to his feet. Clark leaned on her for support. The music had stopped and everyone was now staring at them.

Kenny laughed. “You see? A little bitch in high school and a little bitch now!” He threw another punch, this one an uppercut that knocked Clark off his feet. Clark flew across the gym, landing on the bar and it broke beneath his weight.

Gasps emanated from the crowd but Kenny ignored them, striding calmly in Clark’s direction. Clark struggled to get off the ground, but as he looked at Kenny, he noticed something very unusual. Kenny’s body was surrounded with a glowing, emerald aura. And Kenny’s skin had changed, becoming more green.

There was no denying it now—Kenny was definitely a metahuman.

The lights turned on in the gym. Sheriff Adams entered beside Principal Kwan, who pointed an accusatory finger in Kenny’s direction. Clark struggled to get back to his feet, looking up at the authorities. He reached a hand out and weakly attempted to warn them to stay away from Kenny. But then he saw Lana and she mouthed the word, “GO!”

“What in Sam Hill is going on here?” asked Adams.

“Ahh, Sheriff Adams,” said Kenny, smiling as his eyes crackled with the radioactive power within him. “And Principal Kwan. Two people who made my life a living hell when I was forced to live in this shithole of a town. Now, allow me to return the favor.”

His eyes glowed brighter and bursts of green energy erupted from them. But before they could incinerate their targets, a blue and red blur swooped past, moving the two would-be victims from Kenny’s path. The blasts blew through the wall instead.

Kenny blinked. “What the hell was that?”

He looked around and saw Kwan and Adams near the stage. And standing in front of them was a man dressed from head to toe in blue with a red cape and a giant red S on his chest.

“Superman.” Kenny grinned. “Y’know, ever since I saw you on TV, I started to wonder—can I take him out?”

“This ends now,” said Superman. But he wouldn’t get any closer to Kenny. Even at this range, he could feel the effects of the radiation. “Everyone, out!”

“You heard him!” said Lana, instantly moving into action and helping direct the former students to the door. The police aided and Kwan and Adams moved to follow. Some of the officers remained though, drawing their weapons. Superman saw this and held out his hand.

“No, don’t!”

But they didn’t listen, opening fire. Superman didn’t want anyone else to die, even if it was Kenny Braverman. And fortunately, no one did. Once the gunfire ceased, Kenny stood there, looking down at his uniform and the holes in it. On the floor at his feet were the flattened bullets.

Kenny laughed and looked at Superman. “Look at that! Guess you’re not the only one who’s special anymore, huh Supes?”

“Yeah, and you told me something else,” said Superman. “You showed me just what kind of punishment you can withstand.”

Superman’s blue eyes turned bright red. Beams of superheated energy burst from his eyes, slamming into Kenny’s body, the force of the heat vision blowing him straight though the wall and into the parking lot.

Superman looked at the Smallville officers. “If you want to help, get those people to safety. I’ll handle the rest.” He then flew through the hole he’d made and out into the parking lot, hovering above it.

Kenny lay on the ground, but was already getting to his feet. As soon as he saw Superman hovering in the air above him, Kenny pounced. His strength was greater than Superman realized and Kenny flew almost right up to Superman’s level.

He wrapped his hands around Superman’s throat and the Man of Steel felt his strength beginning to fade in this close proximity. The two of them plummeted and just before they were going to hit the pavement, Kenny kicked Superman away from him and unleashed his green eye blasts.

The energy was strong and sent Superman crashing into the asphalt, creating a small crater and a tremor shook the ground. Kenny landed on the ground and stood upright, calmly walking towards the crater. He looked down and laughed as he saw Superman struggle to get to his feet.

“This is the world’s greatest hero? Please, you’re just as much of a bitch as Kent is.”

It was Clark Kent, not Superman, who reacted to those words. He tightened his fists and summoned every bit of strength he had left in him. And he shot from the crater like a red and blue rocket, delivering a blow that sent Kenny airborne.

Clark flew after him, not only to continue the fight but also to ensure Kenny’s descent didn’t claim any victims. Fortunately, the punch was powerful enough to send him out to the cornfields and he crashed in the middle of the crops.

Clark flew again, grabbing Kenny by the shoulders. His hands burned against Kenny’s skin, but he fought through the pain. Flying became more difficult and Kenny seemed to grow heavier each second Clark tried to hold him.

He threw him forward and Kenny tumbled through the crops, rolling out into the middle of a country road. Clark crashed into the ground, kicking up dust and dirt. Every inch of his body was in pain, but he had to get up, keep it going.

Clark stood, but he couldn’t fly. He could barely walk. He followed the trail Kenny had left and stepped onto the country road. Kenny lay prone, but he was still alive, still conscious. He slowly got to his feet, stumbling a bit.

“So what now, hero?” asked Kenny.

“I think you need to cool down.” Clark followed his statement by mustering up the very final reserves of his power and blowing. His freeze breath coated Kenny in ice. It wouldn’t stop the radiation, but it would at the very least slow Kenny down.

Clark felt his lungs running out of air and coughed, falling to his knees. But he’d done it, he’d defeated the bully. And now Kenny Braverman was encased in a thick layer of ice.

He heard a faint sound in the distance that quickly grew louder. A bright light fell on Superman’s body and he looked up to see a black helicopter descend from the sky. Cars came onto the scene as well, blocking off access to the country road. Superman stood slowly, noticing the emblem on the side of the vehicles which resembled an eye.

Soldiers emerged from the vehicle and trained their weapons on both Superman and Kenny’s frozen body. Superman looked around in confusion, trying to process exactly what was happening here. And then he heard a voice powerful enough to command all these hardened soldiers.

“Stand down.”

Superman squinted against the brightness of the headlights and he saw a large woman move past the soldiers, wearing a suit. Her hair was short and she had dark, brown skin. She approached the Man of Steel, placing her hands on her hips.

“The Superman,” she said. “At last we meet.”

“Who are you?” asked Superman.

“Amanda Waller.” She offered a hand. “Director of ARGUS.”

“Braverman…?” asked Superman.

“Once we heard about his father’s suicide, we became suspicious. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to get out here in time to stop him.” Waller narrowed her eyes. “Lucky for us you just happened to be flying by Smallville at the time, eh?”

Superman ignored her quip and watched as the ARGUS agents defrosted Kenny and fitted him with shackles.

“Constructed from volatile promethium,” said Waller. “Not only nearly indestructible, but it also acts as a sponge, capable of absorbing the radiation his body generates.”

“Where are you taking him?” asked Superman.

“Somewhere he can be of some use to his country,” said Waller.

“N-no,” said Superman, stepping forward. “He needs to be tried for his crimes.”

Waller gave an exasperated sigh. “Listen to me, Superman—up until now, we’ve tolerated you and your little Justice League. But we have a certain way of doing things around here. Right now, it appears that you can barely stand, let alone stop my men or myself from doing our jobs. So unless you want me to further research exactly why you just happened to be in Smallville during a metahuman attack on the night of a high school reunion, I suggest you back the hell off.”

Superman tightened his lips, but knew Waller was right—he was too weak to stop ARGUS from taking Kenny and even if he wasn’t, what if her threat wasn’t exactly an idle one? The meteor shower that gave Kenny his powers and occurred when the Kents discovered Clark’s shuttle, the timing of the reunion, and the disappearance of Clark Kent just before Superman appeared on the scene. Glasses and acting lessons wouldn’t stand up to that kind of scrutiny, not to someone who was really looking.

“Do we have an agreement, Superman?” asked Waller.

Superman said nothing. He felt his strength return enough to manage some degree of flight and so he took off. Waller watched him rise into the air and smiled to herself. She approached the unconscious Kenny, who was now being loaded up into a prisoner transport.

“Covered up your father’s murder as a suicide, Mr. Braverman? You have no idea just how ironic that is.”

The doors to the transport closed and the agents moved back to their vehicles. Amanda approached the helicopter and climbed inside, watching as the transport drove off down the road. And then she said to herself, “But you’ll find out soon enough.”

NEXT: Fire in the Sky