With nothing else left for him to do, Clark followed Sean’s truck into town, staying far enough behind them to keep from behind seen. And the nearer they got to the town, the more he saw what else was now different in Smallville. Most of the farms and homes that he remembered on the outskirts of town were now abandoned or bulldozed over. A few of the fields had been replaced by crummy looking housing projects and trailer yards. He could have counted on one hand the number of working fields left.

There were also a number of new Luthorcorp buildings that Clark didn’t remember. Shipping plants, office buildings, factories, they were all scattered around the outskirts of town. They even passed what suspiciously looked like a smaller version of a nuclear power plant, but Clark couldn’t be certain. How had all of this happened, he wondered. For the life of him, he couldn’t think of the answer.

Finally, they came to the edge of the main town and Clark had to slow down quickly, to keep from behind seen. He doubted that things had changed that much where a teenager moving at super-human speed wouldn’t draw a notice or two. He hurried down the street, watching Sean’s truck pull to a stop at a light. Ducking into an alley, he glanced out quickly to see if they’d moved on yet. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to follow them now that he couldn’t keep up anymore.

“Hey, you got a buck?” a rough voice asked him, making him jump. Clark turned around quickly, staring downwards. A man was lying in the alley, wrapped up in torn cardboard and old newspaper. He stared up at Clark with a slightly off-center gaze. “Anything, man?” he asked again.

“Here,” he said, a little put off, as he pulled out his wallet. He mechanically pulled out a few bucks and handed it to the man.

He took it eagerly. “Bless you, son.” He stared at the money, smiling a little and tucked it away inside his stained shirt. Clark moved away from him slowly, backing out of the alley, more than a little disquieted.

He’d never seen a homeless person in Smallville before. That sort of thing didn’t happen here. He’d seen them in Metropolis, yes, but not in Smallville. Glancing down at his feet, he saw that the sidewalk was covered with cigarette buts and other pieces of garbage. There was a trashcan not five feet from him that was dented in and overflowing. Then he looked around him, as if for the first time, and saw the grubby buildings and spray-painted walls of the town. He saw the people hurrying past him with their heads down, not making eye-contact. The people he remembered had taken pride in keeping their city clean and hadn’t looked so beaten down. What had happened here?

The sound of a car door slamming shut brought him back as he turned and saw Chloe climbing out of the truck. He ducked quickly back into the alley before she could see him and then stared around the corner, watching her carefully. She said a few more things to Sean and then walked away. The truck pulled into traffic and made a turn as the light changed. Clark watched it drive off and then focused back on Chloe, who was now walking down the street, away from him.

He carefully followed after her, staying far behind her and trying to keep out of sight. It was hard work, to stay focused on her as passed by so many strange and puzzling things. He followed her by a wall plastered with posters and flyers for Luthorcorp. All he could do was glance at them quickly, picking up such phrases as First in the Nation: By Demand!, Put Your Faith in The People Behind the Power, and WLIO: Bringing You the Best in Entertainment and News. Even more puzzling was one that said Lionel Luthor: the Man Whose Hand Guides the Nation. He glanced at Chloe’s receding figure and then back at the posters, sorely tempted to turn around and head back, but instead he hurried after her. Maybe she’d able to explain some of this, if he could get her to talk to him that was.

He followed Chloe past the Beanery, which surprisingly enough looked the same as it always had, and then got another shock for a moment as he glanced into the old antique shop his mother had used to frequent before the woman who owned it had died. Now it looked like it hadn’t been closed a day. Then he saw a girl about his age carry an old chair out from the back of the shop and he stopped dead in his tracks. Someone bumped into him roughly from behind and he heard something drop to the ground, but he hardly noticed. “Tina Greer?” he said as he stared inside.

“Watch where you’re going,” someone said and Clark turned around, startled. A woman was bending down behind him, picking up groceries and looking at him angrily.

“Sorry about that,” he said quickly, taking one last glance inside the shop. Then he bent quickly and started to gather her things up. He looked over his shoulder quickly to see where Chloe was, but couldn’t find her in the crowd. “Sorry,” he said again, not looking as he shoved the food in the woman’s bag.

“Just remember that next time,” she said quickly. She started to say something more when she suddenly stopped and stared at his face, her eyes growing wide. Clark missed her look as he glanced around again for Chloe.

“I will, I promise,” he said lightly. Then he seemed to notice her silence and turned around, frowning at her. She was still staring at him, her fingers white as she clutched the edge of her bag. “Is everything okay?” he asked her slowly. The woman fell over roughly and started to back away from him on all fours. He stared after her, his mouth open. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t believe this!” Chloe’s voice rang out. Clark turned around quickly to see her standing just behind him with her hands on her hips. She looked ready to explode. “How the hell did you even follow me here in the first place?” she snapped at him.

Behind him, Clark heard a sudden scuffling and he turned to see the older woman running away. She’d even left her groceries behind. He watched her dash around the corner and out of sight, utterly bewildered. “Well, I’m waiting,” Chloe said impatiently.

Turning back to Chloe, he stuttered for a moment, thinking. “I caught a ride into town after you left. I didn’t even know you were in front of me.”

“Okay, fair enough. You just caught a ride.” She repeated angrily, staring at him. Chloe nodded to herself and looked down the street in either direction. There was no one near them now. “So what way are you going now?”

“I… uh, don’t really know,” he hesitated, knowing he was trapped now. “That way,” he pointed down the street. Before he was even done speaking, Chloe was walking past him in the opposite direction. “Or maybe not,” he muttered, getting up to follow after her.

“Guess you’re not that good with directions, huh?” she called back to him, walking faster now.

“I just need to talk to you for a minute. C’mon, Chloe!”

She turned around, glaring at him. “How many different ways can I say it? NO! And stop saying that like you know me.”

“I do know you, or something like that,” he started, but she rolled her eyes and started walking away again. “Okay, how about this then: you’re dream is to become a newspaper reporter,” he said, catching up to her again. “How could I have known that unless I knew you?”

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

“Pretty easily since you’re wrong: I haven’t narrowed it down or anything but I was leaning towards groupie or… well, I haven’t thought of something else though, but I’m gonna,” she said in a rush. Then she frowned and looked down at herself for a moment. “And what about me suggests ‘newspaper reporter’ to you anyways?” she gestured with her hands.

“Okay… So maybe you’re not into newspaper reporting now, but you will be,” he promised her. “Alright, I know how bad that sounds,” he admitted as he caught her look. She stared at him flatly and he went back to racking his brain to find something else.

“Your father works for Luthorcorp,” he said. She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t respond. “Your favorite color is pink. You have a fear of needles. Oh, you don’t eat tomatoes but you love ketchup!”

“How did you know-“ she started and then she recovered quickly. “Okay, maybe you do know a bit about me,” she said, nodding slightly. Then she smiled snidely at him and cocked her head. “Congratulations, you’re a stalker.” She turned around again and walked off.

“The morning your mother left, you came downstairs and found your dad making some eggs for you.” She stopped, frozen in place. “He’d burnt them, but you ate them anyways as he told you what happened. That was the first time he’d ever made you breakfast.” Chloe turned around slowly, her mouth slightly open. Then her face darkened and she stormed back over to him. Rearing back, she slapped him hard across the face. Clark turned his face as she hit him, absorbing the blow.

“Never say anything else about my mother,” she hissed at him. “You don’t have the right. You didn’t know her and you sure as hell don’t know me.”

He nodded slightly, seeing the look on her face. “Sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I wouldn’t have if-“ She glared at him, clearly not believing him. “I just need to talk to you, please. I don’t have anyone else here.”

“Fine then,” she said at last. Then her eyes widened and she cried out, “And fuck!” Wincing, she held up her hand, which was swiftly turning beet red. She held it tightly by the wrist, her eyes screwed shut. “Ow, ow, ow…”

“Oh, geez, sorry!” Clark looked around swiftly. “Let’s get you some ice. The Talon would be the closest place.” He took her bye the shoulders and started to guide her down the street. Chloe shrugged off his help irritably, walking on her own.

“Don’t bother,” she said angrily. She walked over to a table outside a shop where someone had set down a Styrofoam cup down. Picking it up with one hand, she popped the lid off slightly and poured what was left in it on the sidewalk, keeping the lid in the way of the ice inside. Clark blinked, but didn’t say anything, glancing inside the shop nervously to see if anyone had noticed them. She grabbed a napkin from the table and poured the ice into it. Wrapping it around her swollen hand, she started to leave, nodding for him to come with her.

“What’s your name, again?” she asked, fussing with the napkin.

“Clark Kent,” he said, catching up to her. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Forget about it. So before I broke my hand across your face, what did you want to ask?” she asked shortly, clearly still angry at him.

He fell into step behind her. “Everything,” he shook his head, a little desperate.

“You’re going to have to get more specific than that.”

“Okay, how about that,” he said, spotting a Luthorcorp poster on the wall. It was the same one he’d seen earlier. Lionel Luthor, looking both paternal and respectable, stared back at them. “What’s with all the Luthorcorp stuff? I don’t remember anything like this. If there should be anything up it should be Lexcorp.”

“Luthorcorp,” she corrected him.

“Lexcorp,” he stressed it. She stared back at him, still confused, and shrugged. He sighed and shook his head. “Nevermind. Just tell me what Lionel Luthor is doing on a poster.”

Chloe glanced at the poster and smiled lightly. She reached out and toyed with the edge of the poster. “Luthorcorp puts those up everywhere. I guess they think if they wallpaper the town with them, maybe it’ll make everyone forget about all the crap they cause.” She sniffed and tore it off the wall in one motion, letting it fall to the ground. “Besides, it’s not like anyone is going to stop them. They own the wall, they own the building; hell, they probably own the street we’re walking on. They can advertise if they want.”

“But how?” He turned around and stared at her. “Luthorcorp doesn’t own anything in Smallville. They used to run the fertilizer plant, but that was bought by Lex.”

“Lex?” she asked. “You mean Lex Luthor? He doesn’t own anything; it’s all his dad’s. And Luthorcorp owns pretty much everything here. Here and everywhere else in the country.”

He absorbed this quietly, puzzling it over. Chloe continued to stare at him, looking confused. “You had to have known about this. It’s not like its recent news or anything.”

“Not to everyone,” he muttered. She shrugged and adjusted the icepack on her hand, not saying anything. He stared down the street, his breath hissing out between his teeth. Then his eyes fell on something and he stepped past her, gaping.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Tell me about that,” he said in a hushed voice. She craned her head, looking. “The Talon,” he said, pointing.

The bright and warm place he’d spent so many afternoons in was gone. Now, the Talon was a boarded up old husk. The marquee overhead was falling to pieces and had been propped up with a length of metal pipe. Peeling movie posters were taped to the doors, all for movies that were a few years old. Clark felt a cold shiver as he stared in the broken, dingy windows. He’d never seen it look this bad, even before Lana had renovated the building from a failing movie theater to a coffee shop. He walked across the street blindly, staring at the boarded up wreck. A car screeched around him, narrowly missing him. Clark didn’t even notice at all.

Chloe ran after him, dodging cars in the street as she crossed to his side. “What was that about?” she yelled. “You could’ve gotten killed!”

“What happened here?” he demanded, ignoring her question completely. “This place shouldn’t be a wreck, Lana fixed it up! What’s going on?” She stared from him to the Talon. Grabbing her arms he asked again, “Chloe, what happened?”

“Let go of me!” she yelled back at him, fighting him. Blinking, he released her and stepped back quickly. She glared back at him, rubbing her arms. He glanced around as people nearby stared accusingly.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said in a rush. “I didn’t mean-“

“Yeah, well, I don’t really care,” she snapped back. “I had you pegged for a psycho from the start and so far you haven’t done anything to make me think differently. And speaking of which, so what if things are different than you remember? Everything else seems perfectly normal to me and everybody else, so did you ever think it was just you? What if you’re the one who’s crazy, huh? You think of that?”

“I’m not crazy,” he told her quietly.

“Yeah? Then I guess it’s just everyone else, huh?”

Turning angrily, she stormed off across the street. Clark hesitated and glanced back at the Talon. Then he set his chin and started after her. She heard him coming and turned around, her face set, but her eyes are little worried.

“If you don’t turn around and walk away right now,” she warned him, “I’m gonna scream bloody murder until the cops come.”

“With that money in your jacket?” he asked quietly. He reached into his pocket and she flinched, but he only pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he took out a picture tucked inside and held it out to her. “This morning I woke up and went to school with all my friends. One of them gave me this, a picture of all of us at the Talon, at its reopening.” She stared at him and then at the photo. “Look at the sign in the window,” he urged her, “look at the girl in the photo. It’s you, or the Chloe Sullivan I know.”

With trembling fingers, she took the photo and stared at it. “How…” she breathed out. She looked up at him and then at the Talon.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “One minute I was running home and the next I was pulled here.” She started to shake her head fiercely and he bent down, glancing around them as people gave them strange looks. “I know this is a lot to believe,” he said quietly, “but you have to trust me. I don’t know where I am or how I got here, but I do know who you are. You’re my friend. You have to help me.”

She stared up at him in shock. Blinking, she swallowed and then licked her lips, glancing at the picture again. “This is a trick,” she stammered. “It has to be.”

Before he could say anything, they were distracted abruptly as two large trucks screeched to a halt at the end of the street. Then almost simultaneously, another two pulled up at the opposite end, effectively sealing off the block. As soon as they were stopped, armed soldiers poured out from them, all wearing black and gray uniforms. Unconsciously, Clark grabbed Chloe and hurried her off the street and away from the soldiers, towards the Talon. Everyone else on the sidewalk seemed to have the same idea. In moments, a crowd of about ten people had gathered together around them, staring about fearfully.

“What’s happening?” someone asked fearfully, but no one had any idea. A woman began to moan quietly, staring at the troops.

Clark leaned down towards Chloe and gave her a quick look. “What’s going on?” he asked, gesturing to the troops. She didn’t answer.

A man in his car leaned on his horn fiercely at the massed soldiers in front of him, motioning them to move aside. Someone barked a command and they raised their guns to shoulder level, readying them. His horn died out slowly as he gaped at them. Then fearfully, he scrambled out of his car and dashed to the other side of the street, trying to get away from them. The soldiers were carrying strange, bulky guns, which wouldn’t have looked out of place in a science fiction movie. There was a loud, collective hum as the soldiers flicked something on the guns on, arming them. Then on some order they leveled them at the crowd.

Someone started to shriek in fear as everyone panicked. A few people took off running, but turned back because there was no where to go. The street was sealed off at both ends by a wall of guns. Then he felt a sudden grip on his wrist and he looked down into Chloe’s fearful eyes.

“Run,” she said quietly. “Run!”

One of the soldiers boomed into a mike, “On the ground now! We have you surrounded. Step out of the crowd and no one gets hurt!”

“What?” he asked, staring down at Chloe.

“It’s the Luthor Corps!” she hissed at him. “Just get out of here!”

“What about you?”

“This isn’t the time to be noble, you don’t know these guys!”

“On the ground!” the soldier yelled again, waving his gun. Some people in the crowd started to kneel down, looking around nervously. As they did, one of the soldiers had an unobstructed view of Clark.

“He’s got a hostage!” he called. Almost in the same breath someone gave the order.

“Open fire!”