Chapter 4
Lana held a hanger at arm's length and studied the shirt. It was sky-blue and sleeveless, with tiny beads running up the collar. She tried to imagine herself in it. She turned the hanger, shook her head, and put it back.
"Not a fan?" asked Harry, leaning against the next rack. He had been watching her the whole time and smiling amusedly as she dug through rack after rack.
Lana shrugged and pawed through a set of t-shirts. "Too sparkly," she said. "I try not to stand out too much."
Harry shook his head with a smile on his face, pulled out a lime green hoodie, and held it up to his own chest. "How about this one?"
Lana gave him a once-over. "You'd look like a tennis ball. Besides, that's for a girl," she said with an amused smile. Harry snorted and put the hoodie back on the rack.
The store was packed with end-of-summer shoppers. There were bored kids, annoyed parents, and at least one mother arguing about the cost of jeans near the dressing rooms. Lana ignored them. She snuck a peek at Harry while he wasn't looking. He was more relaxed now, less guarded than he'd been in Smallville. There was a lightness in his step that she liked.
She pulled a few more shirts off the rack, draping them over her arm. "How are you not bored?" she asked. "You haven't picked out anything for yourself."
"I don't need much," Harry said. "And anything I do need, I can make myself." Harry had shown her exactly how he could make clothes for himself when she asked if he had any belongings.
Lana huffed. "That's so not fair."
"I suppose not, but it's way more convenient … so I'm not going to complain," Harry said, checking the prices on some of these clothes.
He looked down at his current outfit. He wore white trainers, dark jeans, and a thin black jacket. "Do these clothes look normal?" he asked, and opened up his jacket for her to see. Underneath, he wore a thin t-shirt. He looked good, though Lana didn't say it out loud.
"They look just as good as the stuff sold in here," she told him. Lana found a dark skirt and held it up against her waist, twisting to look at her reflection in the mirror. "Be honest," she said. "Do I look like a school principal?"
Harry stepped closer and eyed her up and down. He didn't say anything for a good five seconds, which was five seconds longer than most boys could manage. "You look," he said, and stopped. His mouth curled into a small smirk. "Very unprincipal-like. I think you may get expelled for making the male teachers nervous."
Lana burst out laughing. Harry had a way of breaking her tension in half. She tossed the skirt into her pile and poked his side with the hanger. "You're terrible," she said, and heard him good-naturedly chuckle.
"Tell me again why you're not going to school with me?" she asked.
Harry shrugged and followed her into the next aisle, where a wall of denim waited. "They won't let me, will they? I have no records, no Social Security … Hell, I don't even have a birth certificate. I shouldn't even exist here." He said that last part in a whisper.
Lana bit her lip. "I really wish you could come to school with me." Now that Chloe was dead, and she and Clark had ended things, she had a feeling that it might get a bit lonely at Smallville High this year.
"Just because I'm not going to school with you doesn't mean I won't see you all the time. You're my only friend, remember?" Harry plucked a pair of jeans off the rack and held them up. He didn't say it, but he thought that these would look good on her. He put them back as she flipped through the rack.
Lana shot him a look, but there was no hiding her smile. "So you're just going to follow me around like a lost puppy?"
He shot her a boyish smile. "Probably … until you tell me to go away." Lana chuckled and continued to look through the rack. When she found everything she needed, she tried them on in the dressing room. After that, she put over half of them on a stack of clothes on a nearby table and started toward the front register. Harry trailed close behind. "You really don't need anything, do you?" she asked.
"I don't," Harry said, voice dropping to a whisper. "But when I do, you'll be the first to know." Lana had been trying to get him to let her buy him some clothes.
Lana shot him another look, but her cheeks were pink this time. She was about to say something, but the woman at the register waved her forward. The checkout line was mercifully short, and the bored college-age girl scanned Lana's things with machine efficiency.
"Did you find everything you needed?" the clerk asked, glancing between them.
Lana nodded. "I did, thanks."
"That's good. You qualify for the new-customer discount. Five percent off." The clerk had a drawl that managed to sound both exhausted and cheerful. She bagged up the clothes, handed over the receipt, and smiled at Harry for a little too long. "You two have a nice day."
Outside, the parking lot was damp from a late morning sprinkle, but the sun had come back out. Lana stopped just under the awning and let the sunlight warm her shoulders. Beside her, Harry's nose wrinkled. "What's wrong?" Lana asked. Harry shook his head.
"Nothing. It's just that the city smells bad," Harry told her, and Lana smiled knowingly.
"Because of your powerful nose?" she asked in a teasing voice. Harry had explained his highly developed senses to her.
"Yeah. The old schnozola is really starting to tingle," Harry said, rubbing his nose.
"Let's go," Lana snorted.
They started walking. The bus station was only three blocks away, and Lana set a brisk pace, shoulders squared and head up. Harry kept to her left, half a step behind. "I really hope they've finished my car." Lana had taken it to a local shop to have her oil and brake pads changed.
He glanced at her. "Do you want me to carry that?"
She shook her head. "No, but you can distract me. I always get depressed after spending that much money. Retail therapy is a lie."
"I can distract you," Harry said, "but you have to trust me."
He stopped her at the end of the block, right where an alley cut between two buildings. The alley was empty except for a few blue recycling bins and a single black cat stretched out on a warm patch of pavement. "Close your eyes," Harry said.
Lana raised an eyebrow. "Why?"
"An exercise in trust"
She rolled her eyes but shut them anyway. She felt him touch her elbow, steering her a few steps into the shadow. "You're not going to do anything weird, right?"
"Define weird."
She elbowed him. He laughed, then the air around them snapped cold for a heartbeat, and then everything went silent. There was no traffic, no birds, no bakery noise. Lana's skin prickled with goosebumps.
She opened her eyes. "Harry?"
The world was green. Not literally, but every edge shimmered, and for a second, her vision blurred. Harry was there, holding her hand, and when the green light evaporated, it was replaced by the familiar sight of her apartment inside the Talon. Lana's mouth dropped open. "How …"
"Trade secret," Harry said, letting go of her hand. Lana's legs felt rubbery, but she managed to stand. She dropped the bags at her feet and brushed the hair from her face.
She stared at her room. It was exactly as she had left it. "Did we just… teleport?"
"Back home, we called it Apparition. This was just an upgraded version of that," Harry tried to explain.
She gaped at him. "Can you do that with anybody?"
Harry shrugged. "Pretty much."
Lana stabilized herself and picked up her bags. "It's definitely a useful trick."
"It beats riding the smelly bus," Harry said. The bus ride to Metropolis had smelled awful. Harry still wasn't desensitized to the strong smells he was now experiencing.
Harry looked around. The apartment was clean and tidy. Sunlight spilled across the scuffed hardwood, and the air smelled faintly of vanilla. Lana set her shopping bag down on the table and kicked off her shoes. Harry wandered to the window and looked out at the empty street. He seemed perfectly content. Lana broke the silence. "So if you're not going to school, what are you going to do with your time?"
Harry turned, his hands in his pockets. "Probably get a job."
She waited for him to keep going, but he didn't. "Doing what?"
He shrugged, then picked up the little metal pencil holder on her desk. One of the legs was bent out of shape, there was a dent on the side, and the metal finish was fairly scuffed. Harry picked it up, and the pencil holder burned green. The legs instantly straightened, the dent ballooned out, and the metal surface became glossy and smooth. "Fixing things," he said. "Apparently, I'm pretty good at that. I thought I'd sell the stuff for cheap and help people out."
Lana was about to tease him, but then remembered his situation. For someone who'd landed here with nothing, it was a plan. "That's kind of sweet," she said.
Harry smiled cutely at her, which made her stomach do a little flip. "It's not saving the world, but it's something. I can't rescue cute girls from falling planes every day, you know?"
Lana smiled at him and flopped onto the couch. She picked up a magazine and absently flipped through it, not reading the words. Harry joined her, perching on the armrest. An easy, comfortable silence fell over the room. The low hum of the refrigerator was the only noise. "I'd still prefer you come to school with me," Lana stated after a few seconds.
"Can't," Harry said. "Not unless you want me to magic up a Social Security number." He then scooted over and dropped into the seat next to her. Lana scooted closer without even thinking. She didn't stop until her shoulder bumped into his arm.
She laughed. "Could you actually do that?"
Harry thought about it for a second before shrugging. "To be honest, I have no idea. I could make the physical card easily enough, but it's more than that. Isn't all that information stored on computers?"
"Yeah, in large government databases," Lana confirmed as she looked at his handsome face.
"I don't know … maybe I could. My powers are really strange, and I don't really know the limit of them," Harry admitted.
Lana thought about it for a second and jumped off the couch. She darted into her room and returned holding several items. She handed over her birth certificate, Social Security card, and driver's license. Harry examined them and held up her driver's license to examine it closely. He slowly turned to her with an eyebrow raised. "Did you go straight to the DMV from an overnight bender or something?" he asked teasingly. Lana snatched the card from his grip.
"Stop making fun of me!" she said, trying not to smile. "The picture's horrible, I know."
"Why is one of your eyes all wonky?"
"Harry!" she exclaimed, playfully smacking his muscled thigh. Harry chuckled and pulled it from between her fingers. He held the card up to his eyes and concentrated. The card flared green, and Lana's picture morphed before their very eyes. In less than a second, the Lana Lang on the driver's license looked like a supermodel. Her hair was perfect, her makeup was spot on, and her smile was flawlessly beautiful. The most important thing was that both of her eyes were equally open now. Harry nodded, liking what he saw, and handed it back to her. Lana took the card and gasped.
"Oh, my gosh! Thank you!" she said, ecstatic to no longer have to be embarrassed to hand over her ID. Harry smiled. He looked comfortable, sitting there, like he belonged in this life. Lana thought about how quickly she'd gotten used to him being around. "Now, try to make one for yourself. Concentrate first on making the card, then concentrate on adding the information to the government database," Lana told him. Harry looked at the beautiful girl and saw that she was totally serious. He watched her eyes, shining with anticipation, and felt the expectation like a weight on his chest. She looked … hopeful. He took a deep breath and picked up her driver's license. The plastic felt oddly alive under his fingers, as if it were still tingling from his power.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, still turning the card over in his hand. "Isn't this, I dunno, a felony?"
"I'm not asking you to rob a bank. I just want you to be able to be yourself, and make it so the rest of the world can see it too." Lana's voice was unwavering and determined.
He exhaled, then focused. The green light sparked inside him. He pictured the license in his hand, down to the microprint, the watermark, the ghostly second photo in the bottom corner. He imagined the same card, but with his face, his stats, his… what, exactly? He wasn't even sure what year it was here? He went with his regular birthday, but changed the year to the same as Lana's. July 31, 1986.
The card warmed, then vibrated. There was a flash of green light, and then a twin card appeared in his other hand, perfectly identical except for the photo. Harry looked at the picture of himself. His jawline was sharp, and his hair was messy. He checked the signature, then the address. Lana had lived in her aunt's farmhouse before, so he listed that as his place of residence. "Looks good so far," he told her.
He smiled, then moved to the Social Security card. This one was trickier. He'd never seen one before. He examined the texture of it, the slightly fuzzy blue print, and the odd little ridges along the edge. He called out to his powers, which hummed up his arm like a static charge. He copied the card, added his own details, and conjured up a random nine-digit number that, in the moment, felt entirely plausible. Harry didn't even think of a number. He put his whole faith into his powers.
The birth certificate was the easiest. This one responded so quickly, he barely had time to register the change. He now had three documents, laid out in a row. Lana stared, then picked them up one at a time, inspecting every detail with a practiced eye. "You could charge for this, you know," she said, joking. "Like a green ghost notary. You could even wear a little suit and bowtie." The news was still going on about the green ghost that had saved the doomed plane.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm good, thanks."
Lana grinned and tucked her cards back into her purse. "Now, for the hard part."
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "I thought that was the hard part."
She shook her head. "Nope. The records have to exist somewhere. The government, the DMV, the credit bureaus… they have to believe in you, or the cards are just paper and plastic. Can you …" She made a vague, upward gesture. "You know… hack reality?"
He sat back, closing his eyes. This was more than conjuring a coin or fixing a tractor. It meant reaching out far and wide, finding all the hidden places where information was stored, and giving them a little nudge. He gave himself up to the power and let the images flash through his mind in a haze of green. The DMV database, with its vast servers and blinking lights .... He pictured the SSA, the census, the tangled knot of digital and physical records that held this country together. He could sense the green ring inside him, questing outward, seeking every weak spot.
"Here it goes," he muttered, letting the vast knowledge of the ring inside of him guide his thoughts. He focused on his new identity … Harry James Potter, born July 31, 1986, currently residing in Smallville, Kansas, perfect credit, one prior speeding ticket for the sake of realism. He felt the power spool out, a gentle thread of light reaching far and wide. It slipped through the tangled mass of servers and hard drives. For a moment, the entire apartment shivered, and the edges of reality felt blurry. The three cards in Lana's purse glowed faintly, then faded. A second later, the cable box under her TV reset. The lights blinked out and then slowly came back on. Harry let go and slumped back into the couch, his breathing strained. It was actually much harder than he thought.
"Well?" Lana's voice was anxious
.
He shrugged. "I think it worked?"
She grinned so wide it threatened to split her face. "Let's go check."
He tried to protest, but she was already halfway to the door, keys in hand. She didn't even wait for him to stand. She just looped her hand around his wrist, pulled him up, and towed him down the stairs. They walked three blocks to the Smallville Savings and Loan. Lana stopped him outside the front door and turned to face him. "If you can open a checking account, you exist in the system. If you can't …" she stopped, trying to think of something that would brighten his spirit. "I'll buy you an ice cream."
Harry grinned. "I'd rather have ice cream, honestly."
She elbowed him. "Try."
They entered together, the air thick with the smell of new carpet and printer toner. There was only one teller, a woman with streaked blonde hair. "Can I help you?" she asked, eyes darting from Harry's face to his white shoes and back.
"Yes," Lana said brightly. "My friend just moved here and needs to set up a checking account."
Harry handed over his freshly minted license and Social Security card. The woman looked them over with the patience of someone who'd seen every scam under the sun, then sighed and began typing at her keyboard. Harry felt sweat bead under his collar.
"So, Mr. Potter," she said, drawing out the last syllable. "Let's see… just moved here, huh?"
He nodded. "Moved here for the corn."
She snorted, but she kept typing. There was a pause as she ran the license through her little scanner. "Mother's maiden name?"
Harry didn't miss a beat. "Evans."
The woman checked, then double-checked, then looked at him with a faint hint of respect. "Your documentation's in order. We can get you an account, but you'll need to deposit at least twenty dollars."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out ten five-dollar bills. He handed them over to her. Harry then filled out the forms. The woman stamped everything with blue ink, then handed him a temporary debit card and a pamphlet about internet banking. "Welcome to Smallville," she said, with a generic smile.
Harry pocketed the card and they left, walking back into the bright Kansas sun. The sky was bright blue and cloudy, and the air was filled with the scents of baking bread and fresh-mown grass. Lana was beside herself. "It worked!" She threw her arms around his waist and squeezed. "You actually did it! This is amazing."
His cheeks heated up from the sudden close contact. "It's just a bank account, Lana."
She shook her head, her hair catching the sunlight. "No, it's not. It's the first step. Now you can come to school with me. Meet people. Be normal."
He doubted that last part, but he let her have the moment. She was so happy that it radiated off her like the perfume she was wearing. Harry let her drag him down Main Street, through the growing noise of the day. She was still hugging him around the waist when she said, "We'll sign you up tomorrow. I'll help with the paperwork."
He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help smiling.
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.
Chapter 6
The knock on Harry's door was loud and persistent, as if the person knocking didn't have time to wait. The rain had started to fall again, drumming loudly against the motel overhang. Harry set down the TV remote and crossed the threadbare carpet. He already knew who was on the other side of the door.
Lana stood under the flickering yellow porch light, her hair slicked with rain. Her eyes were wide with something that hovered between annoyance and frustration. All five feet of her was shivering in her wet sweater and denim jeans.
"Hey," Harry said, trying to sound casual. He hadn't known Lana for long, but he knew enough to know that she didn't like being made a fuss over. He stepped aside to let her in. "You wanna come in?"
Lana didn't hesitate and immediately came inside. She scanned the room automatically and wrinkled her nose cutely. The old motel rooms had the persistent smell of old cigarette smoke. After a moment, she sighed and sat on the edge of Harry's bed, the mattress creaking under her delicate weight. She didn't take off her jacket.
Harry closed the door behind her. "Bad day?" he asked, settling on the other side of the bed with more space between them than usual. Lana looked at her knees, and Harry touched her shoulder and pumped some of his magic into her. Her clothes began steaming as they dried, and her hair whipped around wildly as if caught by a huge gust of warm wind. A second later, Lana was warm and completely dry. She smiled at him gratefully.
"Remember when I told you about Jason?" she said. Her voice was flat. It wasn't the cheery, teasing tone she often used when they were hanging out in her apartment, nor was it the gentle warmth she reserved for close friends.
Harry looked at her strangely. He did remember. He was the guy she had been dating while living in France. As far as Harry knew, he was supposed to be on a different continent, far from Kansas.
"Yeah," Harry answered. "The guy from Paris." He watched her carefully. "What about him?"
"He's here," she said, looking up at Harry with wide eyes. "He's in Smallville."
Harry blinked. "Are you serious?" His first instinct was to laugh. Smallville was the kind of place people only ended up in by accident or maybe by a supernatural force. However, Lana wasn't joking. Her hands gripped her knees so hard that her knuckles began to turn white.
"He just showed up at the Talon today," Lana continued. "No warning, no nothing. He just showed up out of the blue."
Harry searched her face. "Really?" he asked, and Lana nodded.
"It was so bizarre." She shook her head, trying to make sense of it herself. "He wants to pretend nothing's changed. He wants to pick up where we left off, back when I was still in Paris and things were …" She stopped again, squeezing her eyes shut for a second. "Less complicated."
Harry let out a low whistle. "That's… a bit much."
"Yeah," Lana agreed. "He thinks we're still together." Her laughter sounded brittle. "He's not dangerous. He's just… stubborn."
Harry watched her, the way her body curled in on itself. He felt a surge of protectiveness that surprised him. "Are you sure he's not dangerous?" Harry asked. Following someone across continents wasn't usually a sign of mental stability.
"No. He just … He looked so angry for a second, and then he stopped himself. He smiled and said that he hoped we could still be friends. I mean … Who follows someone home like that?" Lana asked, her voice going up a few octaves.
Harry nodded. He stretched his arm along the back of the bed, not quite touching her. "Do you want me to talk to him?" he asked. He'd make sure the guy stayed away if Lana didn't want him around.
Lana managed a small smile. "No, it's okay. I just needed to talk to someone who wouldn't think I'm overreacting." She exhaled, the stress draining out of her shoulders. "Thank you."
They sat in silence for a while, the rain providing a steady background noise. Harry tried to imagine what Jason was thinking. He probably didn't understand how creepy it was to do what he was doing, and he probably didn't know that he was freaking Lana out. He thought about telling her that she was safe as long as he was around, and that he'd never let anything happen to her. However, judging by the way she instinctively scooched closer to him, he had a feeling that she already knew that. Instead, he reached for her hand. She let him take it. He squeezed gently, and she squeezed back.
"People can be really dumb about love," Harry said at last. "Sometimes it makes them do things that don't make sense. But you don't owe him anything."
Lana's eyes flicked up. She studied his face for a moment, then nodded. "I know."
Harry felt her relax, just a little. He smiled brightly at her, and Lana's cheeks turned a little pink. "You want to go get something to eat? There's a place down the street that serves strawberry pie."
Lana looked at him sideways. "Pie? At this hour?"
He shrugged. "I'm a growing boy."
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling for real now. "Let's go, then. I can't sleep anyway."
The Last Guardian
Harry woke up to the wet slap of his ceiling leaking. Another drop fell, hit the floor, and added to the growing wet spot on his musty carpet. He stared at it from his place on the saggy mattress, one hand under his head, the other rubbing his sleepy eyes. The mini fridge door was open again. For some reason, it liked to open itself at random moments. It smelled like sour milk, even though it only held a two-liter bottle of orange soda and a half-eaten gas station burrito. Harry could have fixed the leak or the fridge with a flick of his will, but he didn't bother. The owner of the motel wasn't the nicest person, and Harry wasn't eager to do him any favors.
He flopped an arm across his eyes and groaned. Light from the cracked window speared his eyelids. He rolled away from it and grabbed the newspaper he'd bought while he and Lana were out eating pie the night before. The headline was about a tornado that had torn a strip out of Oklahoma, but the story next to it was better. "Miami Drug Kingpin Busted in Major Sting," the headline screamed. The subheader was pure tabloid. "Federal agents say massive South American cartel may retaliate." Harry flipped the page and read the list of seized assets. There were several million in cash, a dozen gold-plated machine guns, a speedboat, a dozen luxury cars, and two cheetah cubs. The cheetahs were going to a zoo, and the kingpin was going to prison for life.
Harry grinned and chuckled. "That's one way to make a living," he said, and tossed the paper aside. The new cell phone that Lana insisted he buy vibrated on the nightstand. It was Lana. She texted a photo of herself in front of the Talon. Her tongue was out and her eyes were crossed. Harry chuckled and sent her a text. Lana had found it hilarious when she discovered that he had never used a cell phone before. Thankfully, she was more than willing to teach him how to properly use it.
Harry texted her back. "Looking good!" He didn't wait for the reply. Instead, he swung his legs off the mattress and padded across the gross carpet. He looked around his motel room. He hated it. The walls were nicotine yellow. The sheets were industrial-grade polyester. The TV remote was chained to the nightstand with a piece of twisted wire. His only real possession here was a battered backpack stuffed with a few meager possessions.
He needed money. A lot of it. Harry already had a plan, but it would take start-up capital. Even with his powers, some things required folding green currency. He needed school supplies, a car, and most importantly, first and last month's rent on something that didn't smell like death. Harry could have conjured a stack of bills in a second, but he had a sneaking suspicion that anything more than a few hundred here and there would eventually get noticed.
He opened the backpack, reached into the side pocket, and pulled out a handful of coins and wrinkled bills. He counted it. It was enough for breakfast, and maybe lunch if he skipped coffee. He sighed, then looked at his reflection in the dirty window. His hair was messier than ever. He ran a hand through it and frowned. His face had sharpened since coming to Smallville. His jawline had hardened, and his eyes were almost glowing with green. He looked older than he had before, but still like himself.
Harry sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the peeling wallpaper. He thought about the Miami drug lord, the millions in seized assets, and the string of events that led to a man winding up in a cell. There was always more money, and always more bad guys. Harry smiled to himself. It could be an opportunity to do good and get rewarded.
Harry concentrated, and his body flared green. He was suddenly clean and wearing new, crisp clothing. He placed his phone on the table. He didn't want anyone, not even Lana, to know where he was going. Harry stood in the middle of the room, closed his eyes, and vanished. The air popped where he had been.
He reappeared thirty thousand feet above the Gulf of Mexico. The wind lashed his face and whipped his hair straight back. The sky was so blue it almost hurt to look at it. Harry flexed his will and shot south. He left a wake of green light behind him. Clouds blurred past in seconds. He dropped lower, letting the heat and pressure of the air wrap around his body. His shirt flapped and nearly ripped away. He laughed, and the sound was whipped away by the hurricane-force wind. In less than ten minutes, he was over South America. He slowed to a hover, suspended two miles above a vast tangle of green rainforest. The land below was veined with rivers, dirt roads, and smoke rising from small towns. He could feel the billions of living things below. Every bird, every mosquito, every mind. Harry let his consciousness open wide.
At first, it was noise. Thoughts layered over each other. Memories, wishes, fear, and hunger were all a tangled mess. He filtered it, scanning for what he was looking for. He was looking for greed and evil, and he quickly found it. The mind of a man at the center of a vast illegal empire sprang out at him. The local drug lord was a very naughty boy.
Harry smirked, plummeted, then slowed to a stop a hundred feet above the jungle canopy. The compound was easy to find. It was a perfect square of cleared land surrounded by double fences and primitive guard towers. There were a dozen old trucks, three helicopters, and at least forty men with guns. In the center of the compound was a house the size of a palace. The windows were mirrored, and there was a pool in the shape of a palm tree. Harry rolled his eyes.
He watched the men for a minute. Some patrolled the fence line, some smoked under the shadow of the main house, and some lounged near the pool, rifles propped against plastic chairs. He listened in. Their Spanish slang was difficult to understand, but the intent was clear. They were on high alert. They expected an attack. Just not from above. The guards didn't see him. Nobody looked up. Harry counted four on the main roof, two with binoculars. There was one watching the long driveway from a second-story balcony, and five more in the back, smoking under the sloping awning of a carport. He scanned for security cameras and found a dozen, all aimed at the obvious approaches. There was no blind spot.
Harry floated, invisible, above the main house. He closed his eyes and reached for the mind he'd marked earlier. It was the boss. The man was in his office, screaming into a satellite phone, veins bulging in his neck. Harry saw the man's face. He wore a gold chain, and a thick mustache covered his upper lip. The boss was furious. One of his shipments had vanished in Florida. Someone was going to pay. Harry let the man's thoughts flicker through him. He saw stacks of cash, rooms full of guns, and a vault buried deep within the bowels of the mansion. He opened his eyes and smiled. He knew where the money was.
He drifted down and stared through the window of the drug lord's gaudy office. The drug lord was alone, pacing in front of a huge desk. The walls were covered in animal heads and paintings of nude women. Harry silently apparated in just as the man threw the phone against the wall. The man's rage spiked. He screamed for his guards. Three men ran in, guns drawn. Harry listened as the boss barked orders and locked down the house. He told them to prepare the helicopter and to find out who in Miami had stolen his money. The guards nodded, then hurried out.
The drug lord reached under his desk and pressed something. A panel in the floor slid open, revealing a hidden staircase. The boss grabbed a pistol from a drawer and stomped down the steps. Harry followed, invisible and silent. He was getting the hang of the whole ghost routine.
The staircase led to a vault door at the bottom. The boss unlocked it with a fingerprint and a code. Inside was a room piled high with brown cardboard boxes. Each box was filled to the brim with bricks of cash. They were bundles of American one-hundred-dollar bills, hundreds stacked twelve feet high. There were also stacks of passports, piles of gold coins, and a suitcase full of expensive watches. The boss fell to his knees, scooped up a handful of money, and pressed it to his face. Harry almost laughed.
A security camera tracked the boss's every move. Harry traced the camera feed. It went to a small room above, where a pair of bored guards watched rows of screens. Harry reached out with his will and gently put both men to sleep. They slumped over, drooling on their keyboards. He turned his attention back to the boss. With just a thought, Harry vaporized the security camera. He reached out and used his magic to rapidly lift the drug lord off his feet. Before he could even scream, his head smacked into the metal roof of the vault. He dropped down to the ground, completely unconscious. "Sorry," Harry said, "but I need this more than you do."
Harry then waved his hand, sending every single box, gold coin, and watch to his motel room. He then waved his hand again and vanished all the passports. He paused, then looked at the man one more time. "Maybe try a different line of work," he said with a shake of his head. Unfortunately, the boss was out like a light and would never hear Harry's wise words of wisdom.
Just as Harry finished, someone must have discovered the sleeping guards and the cut camera feed because loud alarms started blaring. He knew it was probably a good time to leave. He vanished in a flash of green, leaving behind a completely empty vault.
The Last Guardian
Lana pulled into the motel parking lot and eyed the peeling number on Harry's motel door. The wind rattled the sign above the office, the "O" in "MOTEL" swinging by a thread of wire. The lot was nearly empty. Only a single rusted pickup truck shared the space. She climbed out and closed her door. The air smelled like cow manure, which wasn't out of the ordinary for Smallville. Lana squared her shoulders, crossed the parking lot, and knocked.
There was a rustling inside, and the curtain beside the door twitched. Harry's green eye peeked through the gap, then vanished. Lana frowned. He'd never been so cagey before. She knocked again, louder. The doorknob rattled, but the door didn't open. "Harry?" she called out. "Are you naked in there, or are you just hiding from your adoring fans?" she teased.
There was no answer. Instead, a flash of light hit her in the face. There was a split-second of blinding green, and then she was somewhere else. Her ears rang. The soles of her shoes hit cheap carpet, and she stumbled forward, losing her balance. Harry caught her around the waist before she faceplanted. "Sorry," he said. His hand lingered a little too long, but she didn't pull away.
"Warn me next time," she muttered, smoothing her skirt. She blinked, waiting for her vision to clear. When it did, she nearly choked. There were boxes stacked up wall to wall. The motel room looked like an overflowing post office, except every box was bursting with cash. The carpet was buried, and the bed was a mountain of green paper. There was barely room to move. A gold bar gleamed from a stack in the corner. A hundred-dollar bill fluttered to her feet.
She turned slowly and deliberately to Harry. "Harry?" she asked. Her voice was dangerously calm.
He shot her a cute smile that made her belly flutter. "Yes, Lana?"
She folded her arms and gave him the look she reserved for people about to flunk algebra. "Did you rob a bank?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No, just a cartel. So, not technically a bank, but close enough." He picked up a wad of bills and tossed it from hand to hand.
Lana stared at the stacks. "This is cartel money? That's so much worse, Harry."
He shrugged, then grinned wider. "I was careful. Nobody saw me. Nobody's ever going to trace it here." He tossed the bills onto the pile, where they landed with a soft fwap.
Lana walked the perimeter of the room, touching the boxes with one finger. The sheer amount of money made her dizzy. She stopped at the gold bar and lifted it. It weighed more than she expected. She turned back to him. "They're going to come looking for this. They'll find you. What if they hurt you?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
Harry rolled his eyes with a smile. "They don't even know who to look for, and even if they did find out by some miracle, it's not like they can do anything. I'm pretty hard to hurt these days." He flexed his arm for effect. The sleeve of his shirt bulged. Lana resisted the urge to poke it.
She set the bar down and grabbed a loose stack of hundreds. She fanned them, letting the air tickle her nose. "I don't even know how much is here," she said. "Do you?"
Harry shook his head. "I have no idea. Several million? Maybe more."
She whistled. "That's insane." She looked at the stack in her hand, then at him. "You can't just spend this, you know. People will ask questions."
He shrugged again. "Not if I'm smart about it. I'll buy some land and start a business." He looked at her, eyes shining. "Want some?"
Lana felt her cheeks flush. She set the stack back onto the nearest box. "No. That's… that's not right."
He stepped closer to her. He was close enough that she could feel his pleasant breath on her cheek. Lana's face began to heat up, and the fluttering in her belly got worse. "It's not like they were going to use it for scholarships," he said.
She shook her head, but not very hard. "Still. I don't want to get in trouble."
Harry grinned, then leaned against the wall. The wall creaked under his weight. "Suit yourself, but if you ever need anything, just ask." His voice was soft now, almost serious.
She looked down at her hands, then back at the piles. "Maybe just one?" she said, and plucked a brick of cash from the pile. "Bills are expensive." She smiled with an embarrassed expression. He laughed, and Lana couldn't help but blush.
"So what are you going to do with all this?" she asked.
He looked at the cash and gold. "I dunno. I'm definitely going to buy a house with a nice piece of land. I'm pretty sick of this stinky motel room," he told her. Lana couldn't disagree. The motel was pretty bad.
She sighed and stuffed the cash into her purse. Lana then stepped closer to him. "Just don't get caught, okay?"
He smiled kindly at her and nodded. "I won't," he promised. He slipped his arms around her slim waist and hugged her. Lana pressed herself tighter to him and rested the side of her head against his muscled chest. She heard his heart thumping loudly, and the sound of it soothed her nerves. "Do you want to help me look for a new place?" he asked her. Lana looked up and smiled widely.
"That sounds good, but first, we need to go buy school supplies," she told him with a twinkle in her eyes. Harry groaned, which made her laugh. She took his hand and led him to her car.