He tasted blood.
But Zod’s unreasoning rage made him sloppy. He charged like an animal, lowering his guard long enough for the Man of Steel to deliver an old-fashioned haymaker that sent him flying backward across the terminal. Zod hit the floor hard, only to discover that Superman had already shot across at super-speed to be there waiting for him.
Staying on the offensive, Superman got his arms around Zod’s head, pinning him in a chin-lock. Zod thrashed furiously, straining to break free, but was unable to escape the grip. Pressing his advantage, Superman leveraged his knee into Zod’s back. The crazed Kryptonian grunted in pain, but showed no sign of surrendering.
What would it take to stop him?
Pinning Zod’s body wasn’t enough, not while his eyes burned red as a distant sun. His volcanic gaze unleashed crimson rays of destruction that converged on a classical stone façade that stood across from him. Polished marble was vaporized by the beams, leaving a blackened scar across the wall.
Nearby bystanders, unable to flee, shrieked at the sight.
No! Superman thought desperately.
Straining massively, Zod slowly turned his head. The deadly beams swept their way across the terminal toward a cluster of men, women, and children trapped beneath a fallen archway. Trembling families huddled together, holding crying toddlers. Grown men and women were crying, too, or praying for mercy as Zod’s heat-vision inched toward them, incinerating everything in its path.
Superman tightened his grip on Zod’s head, trying desperately to hold it still, or to avert it from the endangered bystanders. But still Zod managed to push against his grip, turning his infernal gaze slowly, inexorably toward the trapped people.
“Stop!” Superman demanded. The position they were in wouldn’t allow him the leverage he needed to fly—to carry them away from here. It was all he could do to restrain his opponent.
Grunting with effort, Zod twisted his head toward his intended victims. A hellish rage blazed from his eyes, seeking to avenge his vanished dream of a new homeworld. He was going to kill those people if it was the last thing he did.
“STOP!”
Spittle sprayed from Zod’s lips.
“NEVER!”
Superman watched with growing horror as the crimson rays continued along their deadly path. The beams were only a few yards away from the people now. Then two. Then one.
No! Superman thought. Don’t make me do this!
A little girl sobbed as the beam came closer, now only moments away. Superman cried out in anguish, knowing he had no other choice. It was Zod’s life—or the lives of innocents. He marshaled every ounce of strength that remained within him. And then…
He snapped Zod’s neck.
His form went limp, his fiery gaze extinguished instantly. Superman released the body and let it slump to the floor. Gazing down at the dead Kryptonian, he was surprised by the peaceful expression on his face.
Was this what Zod truly wanted? Superman wondered. A glorious death in combat?
His foe had gone the way of Krypton, but Superman wasn’t sure he would ever forgive the Zod for making the hero the instrument of his death. Anguish tore at Superman’s heart; he had always sought to save lives, not take them. Killing Zod took a terrible toll on him. His shoulders slumped as he stood above the body, feeling both emotionally and physically drained.
He really was the Last Son of Krypton now, he realized.
Apart and alone.
Lois appeared atop the stairway, having somehow made her way through the wreckage. She stared down at him, taking in the grisly scene and reading the torment on his face. Looking up, he could tell that she understood what this bitter victory had cost him. Compassionate green eyes met his.
She raced down the steps to embrace him. Hugging her tightly, in the center of the ravaged terminal, he realized that he had been wrong.
He wasn’t alone at all.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
An array of king-sized satellite dishes searched the sky, eavesdropping on the cosmos. General Swanwick surveyed the array as Captain Farris drove their jeep past the secure NORTHCOM installation. It was an impressive setup, to be sure, but was it enough?
Now that the crisis was over, he was of a mind to beef up NORTHCOM’s deep space surveillance operations. Zod and his fellow Kryptonians may have been defeated, but who knew what other threats were hiding out among the stars? The universe was a smaller and much scarier place these days.
Hell, he knew of at least one rogue alien who was still at large.
A flaming wad of crumpled metal suddenly dropped out of the sky, directly in their path. Farris swerved to avoid it, braking hard. Swanwick scrambled out of the jeep to get a closer look at the object. A few thousand pounds of mangled metal and circuitry sparked and sputtered in the middle of the road. A US flag insignia could be glimpsed on a broken wing.
“What the hell—?”
“It’s one of your surveillance drones,” a familiar voice stated.
The startled officers spun around to find Superman hovering in the air behind them. Swanwick’s temper flared.
“That’s a twelve million dollar piece of hardware!”
“Was,” Superman corrected him, before adopting a more serious tone. “Stop harassing me, General. I know you’re trying to figure out where I hang my cape. You won’t.”
Swanwick didn’t deny the accusation. He wasn’t ashamed of doing his job.
“Then I’ll ask you the obvious question,” he countered. “How do we know you won’t one day act against America’s interests?”
“I grew up in Kansas, General. For an alien, I’m about as American as you can get. But Superman has to be more than that. Do you understand?”
Swanwick listened, but didn’t commit himself. Right now he was more interested in hearing what Superman had to say.
“I’m here to help,” the Man of Steel continued. “It just has to be on my terms. You need to convince Washington of that.”
Swanwick wanted to believe him. Lord knows the man had saved the entire human race from extinction, which ought to entitle him to the benefit of the doubt. But he had also shown the entire world just how unbelievably powerful he was, which was bound to make people nervous.
“Even if I was willing to try, what makes you think they’d listen?”
“I don’t know, General. I guess I’ll just have to trust you.”
With that Superman lifted off into the sky, not like a rocket, but leisurely and at his own pace. Swanwick tilted his head back to watch him ascend, as amazed now as he had been the first time he had seen the alien floating above the gate at NORTHCOM Command. He glanced at Farris, and was surprised to see a huge grin across the young woman’s face. He scowled for form’s sake.
“What are you smiling about, Captain?”
“Nothing, sir,” she said with a shrug, visibly struggling to keep a straight face. “I just think he’s kinda hot.”
You’re probably not the only one, he thought.
“He always believed you were meant for greater things,” Martha said. “That when the day came, your shoulders would be able to bear the weight.”
She and Clark stood before Jonathan Kent’s grave. It was a clear, sunny day, free of the smoke that had blackened the sky during Zod’s attack. A copy of the Daily Planet was folded beneath her arm. No surprise, the epic conflict in Metropolis had pushed the earlier skirmish in Smallville off the front page, which was probably just as well, Martha mused. His roots didn’t need that kind of attention.