The Last Guardian (Ch. 5)

The Last Guardian

Chapter 5 

Lana walked out of Smallville High with Harry’s arm wrapped in a death grip. He didn’t mind at all. The sun was just starting to dry off the dew on the front lawn. The air tasted like fresh-cut grass and the fake-lemon bleach they used on the school floors. Harry let himself be led by her. Lana leaned her head into his shoulder and wore a smile that was two sizes too big for her pretty face.

“You did it!” she said. “How does it feel to be a legal Smallvillean?”

“Disappointing, honestly. I was told there would be a parade.” Harry ran his free hand through his hair. He used the shower in his motel room instead of cleaning himself with magic, so it made his hair stick up worse than ever. Lana had burst into a giggling fit when she first saw the state of his bird’s nest. He had to explain that not even magic could tame his wild mess. 

“I’ll contact the mayor immediately.” Lana giggled and walked him toward the steps. “But don’t ask for a float. Last year, our school’s float caught on fire and scared the children silly.”

“Is this one of those things I’ll understand after my mandatory school spirit indoctrination?” Harry asked.

She tugged him down the steps. “You’ll fit in fine. You already have the sarcasm down.”

They passed a pair of soon-to-be seniors smoking under the bleachers. One of them wolf-whistled, then elbowed his friend. Lana ignored them while Harry flipped them the bird. He felt the glares, but also a weird undercurrent of respect. People in Smallville noticed things. The school office lady, who wore pink lipstick on her teeth, had called him “the polite one” as soon as he said please and thank you. Even the guidance counselor, a woman in her fifties with arms like a farmhand, had given him a solid pat on the back and called him “son.” That was new for Harry.

“I can’t believe school’s about to start. It feels like it just ended,” Lana said as she pulled him toward the parking lot.

“Yep … Monday. I’m not sure what to expect, but I imagine I’ll adjust and adapt,” Harry told her, and Lana squeezed his arm a little tighter. “Luckily, we have the entire weekend to create a tragic backstory for my transfer.”

“I already made one,” she said jokingly. “Dead parents, tragic corn silo accident. If you ever need to feel some fake emotions, just think about homeless puppies or something.”

“I’d rather think about you in a cheerleader outfit,” Harry joked. Lana was a very attractive woman, and judging by all the whistles she got when out and about, it seemed that everyone else knew it as well. 

Lana snorted. “Wow. You’ve been in Smallville for, what, less than a week, and you’ve already gone native. That’s impressive.”

“I’m just trying to fit in,” he smirked, and she chuckled in response. Lana grinned and gave his arm an extra squeeze. “Let’s go get coffee.”

They made it as far as the student parking lot before Lana’s phone rang. She made a face and checked the display. “It’s Lex,” she said, with an eye roll. Lex had recently become very interested in Ms. Lana Lang. He was very eager to learn everything about the miraculous survival of the doomed plane. He especially wanted to know about this green ghost that everyone was talking about. She hit ignore and kept walking. The phone buzzed again. 

“Persistent, isn’t he?” Harry said. 

Lana glanced at the screen. “If you don’t answer, he’ll just show up,” she muttered. She accepted the call. “Hey, Lex, what’s up?”

Harry listened to her half of the conversation. Sure, he could use his fantastic hearing to listen in, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy. It started normally. Lana’s voice was easy and light, just the way it was when she was talking to someone she knew well. After a few seconds, it changed. Her eyes widened, and her grip on Harry’s arm tightened. Her mouth dropped open, and she didn’t say anything at all for a few seconds. “What?” she said, then again, softer. “What?”

Harry watched her face drain of all color. Her knees wobbled, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “No, you’re kidding,” she whispered. Her body went very still.

The other end of the line kept talking. Lana’s hand came up to her mouth. “No, it’s okay. I just … I can’t believe it. No, you did the right thing, Lex. I’ll be there. No, you don’t have to … I’m fine, really. Just…” She blinked, then let out a long, trembling breath. “Thank you. I’ll call you later.”

She ended the call and stared at the phone. Harry leaned in. “Lana? What happened?”

She turned, and her eyes were slightly damp. She didn’t look at him right away. She stared at the ground and breathed. “It’s Chloe,” she finally said. “She’s … she’s alive.” The words were so thin he almost missed them. Harry waited, but she said nothing else. She pressed her lips together and blinked back a tear, then let out a short laugh. “God, I can’t believe it.”

Harry squeezed her waist a little tighter. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Lana shook her head and took a huge breath. She thumbed the tears from her eyes and let out a weak laugh. “We have to go. Now.” She grabbed Harry’s wrist, tight.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Harry asked.

Lana snorted. “You think I’m letting you behind the wheel? You’re English. You’d probably drive the whole way on the wrong side of the road.”

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She pulled him across the lot to her car. They got in, started the car, and sat in silence for a long second.

Harry reached over and gently squeezed her shoulder. “Where are we going?”

Lana shook her head. “Hospital. Lex said she’s at Metropolis General.”

Harry nodded. “Well then, let’s go,” he said. Lana nodded and gifted him a grateful smile. She put the car in gear and gunned it out of the parking lot.

The Last Guardian

Metropolis General was like every hospital Harry had ever seen, except it smelled even more like bleach and other chemicals. The floors squeaked under his sneakers, and Lana walked fast, her knuckles white as she clenched her fists. She looked straight ahead, dodging around a cart stacked high with bandage boxes. The lights overhead were so bright they made his eyes sting slightly. He could see every detail, down to the cracks in the plastic ceiling tiles and the chemical sheen on the floor.

The nurse at the desk barely looked up as they passed. Harry caught a flash of her name tag that read “Mildred.” Her bluish gray hairdo was somewhat old-fashioned. Lana led him to the elevator and hit the button five times in a row. Her foot bounced on the tile. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Harry knew how she was feeling. 

They took the elevator to the fourth floor. Lana practically sprinted down the hall, tugging Harry along behind her. He amusedly wondered if she realized she was dragging him along like an insolent child. He didn’t mind, though. He was used to being pulled through life by strong-willed women. They reached the room, and the door was open. Inside, Chloe lay in the hospital bed, propped up on two pillows. Her face was a little thinner than he remembered from Lana’s memories, but she was very much alive. There was a bandage on her cheek, and another wrapped around her left forearm. The scratches were new and angry red. She looked up when they entered, eyes wide, and her lips stretched into a smile.

Clark Kent stood by the window, hands jammed deep in his pockets. He looked even taller indoors, with his broad shoulders hunched and his head lowered. Lois Lane was in the battered vinyl chair next to the bed, one ankle propped over her knee and her hands folded on her lap.

Lana let go of Harry and dropped her bag on the floor. She crossed the room in three strides and flung her arms around Chloe, who let out a little gasp and hugged back with a desperate, shaking grip. “God, Chloe, I thought you were dead,” Lana whispered, her voice cracking at the edges. Chloe held her for a long time.

Harry shifted in the doorway. He caught Clark’s eye, then Lois’s. Lois gave him a once-over, sizing him up like a lawyer with a hostile witness. Clark just nodded, a polite but distant gesture. Harry nodded back. Lana finally pulled away and wiped at her cheek. “Chloe, this is Harry. He’s… my friend.”

Chloe turned her head, taking him in. She had big eyes that flicked from his handsome face, down to his fit body, and then back up to his face. “Hi, Harry,” she said, her cheeks growing a little pink. “Nice to meet you.” Harry stepped forward and offered a soft nod, not sure what else to do. He hadn’t really prepared for this.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Harry told her with a handsome smile. 

Lois stood up, chair scraping on the floor. She was taller than Lana but shorter than Chloe, and she had a very pretty face and a pleasant smile. “Well, this is a surprise,” she said. “Welcome to the party.”

Lana ignored Lois and turned to Chloe. “What happened?” she asked, voice small. “Lex said it was …”

“Complicated,” Chloe finished, her lips quirking into a tired smile. “It’s always complicated.”

She shifted on the bed and looked at her own hands. Her nails were chewed down low. “After we went into witness protection, they put us up in a safe house out in the middle of nowhere. I thought we’d be safe. I really did.” She let out a bitter little laugh. “Turns out, Lionel Luthor can get to anyone if he wants it bad enough.”

Clark shifted at the window. His voice was soft. “He’s in jail, Chloe. He can’t hurt you now.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, her eyes distant. “But he still has people.”

She looked at Lana. “Three days ago, we get a call from Lex. He said that his dad’s people were coming for us. Lex sent in his own team and snuck us away. We moved through some old tunnel connected to the house just before Lex’s men blew it all up. They took us to a new safe house while everyone declared us dead,” she told Lana.

Lana squeezed her shoulder. Harry watched as Chloe steadied herself, breathing slow and even, like she’d done this before. “Then, earlier today, one of Lionel’s goons showed up and nearly shish kebabed me. I’m talking someone straight from the Wall of Weird. Clark and Lois found me right before he could finish the job, but, hey, I’m alive. That’s what counts, right?”

There was a silence, filled only by the faint beeping of the heart monitor and the squeal of a cart in the hallway. Finally, Lois clapped her hands together. “Well, I think that’s enough melodrama for one day.” She rubbed her hands along her jean-covered thighs to dry her clammy palms and glared at Clark. “Farmboy, why don’t you show our new friend where to find the snack machine?”

Clark’s face twitched in surprise. “Now?” He looked at Harry, who shrugged.

“Please,” Lois said, already moving to the door. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and I’m about to pass out. Harry, you coming?”

Harry looked at Lana, who gave him a silent nod. “Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch up.”

He followed Lois and Clark into the hallway. The door swung shut behind them, leaving Lana and Chloe alone. In the hallway, Lois set a pace that forced Clark and Harry to walk shoulder-to-shoulder behind her. She stopped at the vending machines and dug through her purse for a dollar. Clark leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the far end of the corridor. Harry stood next to him, hands in his pockets.

Clark glanced at him, sideways. “So,” he said, his voice lower than before. “How do you know Lana?”

Harry immediately used the story he and Lana had come up with. “We met right after I moved to town. We just sort of clicked and became fast friends.” He didn’t elaborate. Clark nodded, apparently satisfied.

Lois fought with the vending machine. The machine kept spitting her crinkled dollar bill back out. She groaned, then smacked the side of the machine. “Come on, you piece of …” She tried again.

Harry chuckled at her struggle. Before she could fix a glare on him, he said, “This baby just needs the magic touch,” he stated with a smirk and banged the side of the vending machine with the side of his fist. The machine sucked in the dollar bill with a mechanical whirring sound. At the same time, three candy bars and a bag of chips fell from their slots. To top it all off, Lois still had credit for her dollar. 

Lois peered inside. “Well, that’s… handy. You’re a regular Arthur Fonzarelli, aren’t you?” Harry didn’t even know who that was. She grabbed a bar and tossed one to Harry, then one to Clark. “You’re all right, Harry,” she said, her eyes twinkling with something like mischief. She then chose her preferred snack. Harry smiled at the pretty girl. 

They stood in silence, chewing. Clark looked at Harry, then away, then back again. “So where are you from?”

Harry shrugged. “I was born here in the States but lived in England for a long time.”

“Really? And of all the places in the world, you chose Smallville?” Clark asked. He didn’t know anyone who chose to live in this small farming town. 

Harry smiled. “What can I say? I’m a big fan of corn.” Lois snorted in amusement while Clark grunted, but didn’t say more.

Back in the room, Lana wiped at her eyes. “You know, for a while I thought we’d never see you again.”

Chloe smiled. “Me too. It got really terrifying there for a minute. Thank god for Clark and Lois.”

“I know the feeling,” Lana said, thinking back to her harrowing experience on the plane. She didn’t notice Chloe smiling cheekily at her. 

“So …” Chloe said in a sing-song voice. “What’s up with you and that sexy British guy?” she asked teasingly. Lana’s face flushed in embarrassment, and she playfully smacked Chloe on the leg. Chloe burst into laughter, feeling lighter than she had in a while. 

A short while later, Lana’s voice cut down the hall. “Harry!”

He turned. Lana was outside Chloe’s room, her face bright again. “Chloe’s getting released soon. I’ll meet her later. We should get going.”

Harry stood, crumpling the empty candy wrapper in his fist. He nodded to Lois and Clark. “See you around,” he said, and meant it.

Lois saluted with her candy bar. “Count on it.”

As Harry and Lana walked out together, Clark watched them go. There was curiosity in his face, but also a trace of something else. 

The trip back to Lana’s was much more lighthearted than the trip to the hospital. Seeing that Chloe was safe and sound was a huge weight off her chest. They climbed the stairs to the apartment above the Talon. Harry followed Lana up, two steps behind her. The view wasn’t half bad, Harry thought as he subtly checked out her cute butt. She fumbled the key in the lock, then shouldered open the door. The living room was quite dark. The shades were drawn, and the only light was a pale band slanting through the window above the sink. Lana kicked off her shoes and let them skid across the floor. She walked to the couch and dropped onto it. Her shoulders sagged. She looked tired, but the kind of tired that comes with relief, not dread.

Harry joined her on the couch and sat close to her. Lana clicked the TV remote and surfed through channels until she found the news. She turned up the volume. The screen showed a rain-slicked reporter holding a microphone in front of a cave mouth. Inset on the side was a photo of a group of boys in matching football uniforms, though here in the US, they called it soccer, Harry remembered. The reporter’s voice was urgent, each word coming out as quickly as the next.

“Twelve members of a junior football team, ages eleven to sixteen, and their twenty-five-year-old assistant coach entered Tham Luang Nang Non cave and became trapped when heavy rains flooded the system, blocking their exit. Rescuers cannot yet reach them.”

Lana stared at the screen. She tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Harry felt her watching the TV, but also stealing glances at him. He listened to the broadcast, picking up every word. Harry then closed his eyes and concentrated hard. He could see the whole cave in his head … the water, the rock, the hot, stale air. He heard the parents crying in the background, their voices shrill with panic. He saw the coach sitting at the end of the tunnel, trying to look brave for the boys. He could hear their frantic heartbeats, even from half a world away.

Lana turned to Harry. “Can you help them?”

He looked at her, and for a moment his eyes glowed the familiar emerald green that Lana knew so well. “Yes,” he said with conviction. He stood up and in one clean motion, vanished. The air where he’d been shimmered green for a split second.

On the TV, the reporter ducked as something crackled behind her. The camera jerked up, zoomed out. Above the cave entrance, a flare of green light cut through the rain. A ghostly green image of a human form hovered above the rescue crew. Lana couldn’t see his features. He was too obscured by the pulsing green power his body was radiating, but she instantly knew it was Harry. 

The Last Guardian

Harry appeared two hundred feet above the cave entrance, suspended in a bubble of green that flashed and flickered in the monsoon. Rain struck the surface of the shield and streamed away in silver lines. He looked down. The crowd below was a patchwork of umbrellas and rain ponchos, and all eyes were turned upward, their mouths open in astonishment.

Harry closed his own eyes. The noise of the world faded away. He reached out, past the mob and the TV crews, past the layers of limestone and flooded tunnels. He felt for the twelve small voices and the one older one. They were more than two miles inside. He could hear them, even through the rock.

Harry’s mind formed a map of the terrain before him. He saw every fissure, every jagged corner of rock, and every narrow passage that wound through the limestone. He wasn’t looking at the world through his own eyes anymore … he was looking at it through theirs. The fear hit him first. It was crushing and laced with panic and the sour taste of stale breath and stagnant water. He saw through the twelve kids, huddled in their corner of the cave, knees pressed so hard to their chests they could barely breathe. He felt the slow, wracking trembles that rolled through their bodies, the ache of exhaustion in their legs, and the cold sweat leaking through their soaked football jerseys. Somewhere just beyond their cluster sat the coach. He was older, and his arms were folded protectively around the smallest two, refusing to let go even as the water crept steadily toward their shoes.

Harry floated high above the mountain, his mind racing through their thoughts. He followed their thoughts until he felt them the strongest. Harry knew they were right below him, through three hundred feet of solid stone. There was no other way. If they tried to swim out, they would never make it. If they waited, the oxygen would get used up, and they would become just another story on the evening news. 

He hovered in place for a moment, the rain hitting the green light and instantly turning into steam. He reached out with both hands, knuckles whitening as his energy built and built, compressing into something that felt like a supernova at his fingertips. The earth trembled beneath him. He heard it first … a deep, seismic groan as the ground began to shift, then a splintering crack like a hundred trees snapping at once. Green light erupted from his fists, cutting through the dark and burrowing straight down. It tore through wet clay and ancient stone, pulverizing boulders and vaporizing roots. The earth split open in a perfect circle, the debris blown out and away in a controlled, almost surgical arc. Dirt and shattered rock rained down on the jungle around him. 

For a second, Harry thought about what it must look like from the bottom up. Twelve kids, eyes wide, hearing a sound like the end of the world. A coach, gripping his own fear so tightly his knuckles must have turned white. Then, the roof above them vanished, and light poured in for the first time in who knew how long. Three hundred feet below, the blackness of the cave was replaced by a pillar of green light that shimmered and danced against every slimy rock and trickle of water. The sudden rush of air sent dust flying in all directions. The cavern was suddenly transformed. Instead of a tomb, it was an emerald cathedral.

He dropped into the hole, letting gravity do most of the work. His power kept him suspended, drifting slowly through the vertical shaft while he peered into every crack and side passage. It was like some ancient well, carved and polished by centuries of erosion. Harry’s feet barely made a sound as he softly landed on the stone ground, so as not to startle the survivors any more than necessary.

The kids were a mess. Their faces were smudged with river silt and streaked with tears, their limbs wrapped tight around each other. Some were whispering prayers or mumbling to themselves. One of the older boys started to stand, but his legs betrayed him and he sat right back down, stunned into meekness. The coach just stared. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks hollow, but there was still a fire in him, a stubborn refusal to show fear in front of his team.

“Are you okay?” he asked, letting his power translate for him, and they stared, wide-eyed. One boy whimpered. Another burst into tears. The coach just nodded,  his jaw locked tight.

Harry reached out. The power wrapped them up, gentle as a hug. He lifted them all at once, holding them close together so nobody got left behind. They rose up the new tunnel, carried by the soft green radiance, past the jagged edges and dripping rock, and into the rainy sky. When they reached the surface, Harry flew them at a gentle pace back to the cave’s mouth. Upon reaching the mouth, the crowd went berserk. Parents ran forward, slipping in the mud. Reporters shoved microphones forward, screaming questions nobody could answer.

Harry set the kids down, and the rescuers surrounded them, wrapping them in towels and emergency blankets. Some of the boys fainted. Others just laughed, wild and hysterical. The coach looked up at Harry, mouth moving, but he couldn’t find any words. Harry gave him a nod, then looked out at the crowd. Every camera and news lens was pointed straight at him. He raised a hand in a little wave, then vanished. He reappeared in the apartment. The air was dry and still. Lana was standing in front of the couch, jaw hanging low. Her eyes were huge, bright with amazement.

The TV was still on, and the anchor was shouting, “We have never seen anything like this! The children are safe, repeat, the children are safe! An impossible rescue …”

Lana stared at Harry. He wasn’t wet or dirty, and he didn’t appear tired at all. He just looked… happy. She ran to him and flung her arms around his neck, squeezing until he thought his ribs would crack.

“I knew you’d do it,” she exclaimed in amazement. 

He chuckled and rubbed her back. “It wasn’t that hard,” he said, trying to play it down. She pulled back and looked at him, her face pink and eyes shining.

“Still,” she said, “I think you’re amazing.”

“Yeah, I guess I kind of am,” Harry joked, and Lana laughed and playfully shoved him away.

On the TV, the boys smiled for the camera, blinking in the blinding lights, and a crowd cheered so loud you could hear it all the way in Smallville.