Chapter 34: Voice Command
The abandoned farmhouse sat at the edge of Miller's property, windows dark, paint peeling, exactly the kind of place people forgot existed.
"He's been here three days," Chloe had said, spreading satellite photos across the Torch office desk. "At least seven people have gone inside. None have come out."
Now I crouched behind an overturned tractor fifty yards from the front door, waiting for Clark and Kara to reach their positions. The plan was simple—deceptively so. I approached first, confirmed Alex's location, then signaled. Clark and Kara would move in fast, before Alex could speak.
The key was speed. Alex's power worked through voice—direct commands that bypassed free will entirely. I'd discovered my immunity by accident during our first encounter, when he'd told me to "stand still" and I'd kept walking. The System's analysis suggested something about my altered neural pathways, but the practical upshot was simple: I was bait.
[TACTICAL ASSESSMENT: APPROACH VIABLE. ALLY POSITIONS CONFIRMED. SIGNAL ON YOUR MARK.]
I touched the earpiece Clark had borrowed from his father's emergency supplies.
"In position?"
"East side." Clark's voice was steady. "Thirty seconds to intercept once you signal."
"North." Kara's tone carried the controlled tension I'd learned to recognize. "Ready when you are."
"Going in."
I straightened from cover and walked toward the farmhouse like I owned it. No sneaking, no hesitation—Alex had already demonstrated he could sense people trying to hide. Better to approach openly and let him think I was just another victim wandering into his web.
The front door was unlocked. I pushed it open and stepped into darkness that smelled like dust and something else—something organic, unwashed, human.
"Hello, Alex."
He sat in what had once been a living room, surrounded by figures that didn't move. Seven of them, as Chloe had predicted—men and women of various ages, all staring at nothing with expressions of perfect vacancy. His collection.
"You again." Alex rose from his chair, and I got my first clear look at him. Young—maybe my age, maybe younger. Pale skin, dark circles under his eyes, the twitchy energy of someone running on fumes. "The one who doesn't listen."
"I listen fine. I just don't obey."
"Everyone obeys." He stepped closer, and I could see the meteor scars on his throat—green-tinged tissue that pulsed faintly when he spoke. "Give me your loyalty."
The command hit me like a warm breeze. Pleasant, almost—I could feel the shape of what it wanted, the comfortable surrender it offered. But it couldn't find purchase. My mind remained my own.
"My loyalty isn't yours to take."
Alex's expression shifted from confidence to confusion to something uglier.
"Then I'll take something else." He turned to his collected victims. "Kill him."
Seven bodies rose as one.
Now.
I touched my earpiece. "GO!"
The farmhouse exploded into motion. Clark hit the front door so hard it disintegrated, crossing the room in a blur and clamping his hand over Alex's mouth before the persuader could issue another command. Kara came through the back, moving between the zombified victims with impossible grace, catching them before they could reach me.
"It's okay," she said to each one, voice gentle. "You're safe now. You're free."
One by one, the vacant expressions began to clear. An elderly man blinked, looked around, started crying. A young woman collapsed against the wall, hyperventilating. A middle-aged farmer stared at his hands like he'd never seen them before.
Alex thrashed in Clark's grip, trying to speak, but Kryptonian strength was absolute. He couldn't move, couldn't command, couldn't do anything but watch his victims wake up.
[THREAT NEUTRALIZED. TEAM EFFICIENCY: 94%. CASUALTIES: ZERO.]
"You can't do this!" Alex's voice came out muffled but furious. "They WANTED to follow me! They NEEDED someone to tell them what to do!"
"No one needs that," I said. "They were just vulnerable enough to fall for it."
The sheriff's deputies would be here soon—Chloe had tipped them off with an anonymous call, timing it to arrive after we'd finished. Until then, we had to manage seven traumatized people and one meteor freak who couldn't stop struggling.
"Help me with them," Kara said, guiding the young woman toward a chair. "They're in shock."
I moved to the elderly man—the one who'd been crying. Up close, I could see the wedding ring on his finger, the trembling in his hands.
"Sir? Can you hear me?"
"I would have given him everything." His voice was barely a whisper. "My whole life. My wife, my savings, my—" He choked on a sob. "I would have given him EVERYTHING."
"It wasn't your fault." I helped him sit down, kept my voice steady. "His power was real. You couldn't have resisted."
"But you did."
"I got lucky." The lie came easily. "Different brain chemistry or something. The point is, you're free now. It's over."
He grabbed my hand with surprising strength.
"Thank you. God, thank you."
I stayed with him until the deputies arrived.
The Kent barn had become our unofficial headquarters.
We gathered there after the authorities processed Alex, eating pizza and processing what had happened. The mood was strange—triumphant but subdued, the adrenaline of success mixing with the weight of what we'd seen.
"We're actually pretty good at this," Clark admitted, reaching for another slice. "The three of us, I mean. Working together."
"Some of us were always good at this." Kara smirked, and I threw a napkin at her head. She caught it without looking. "You're getting predictable."
"And you're getting cocky."
"Confident. There's a difference."
Clark laughed—a genuine, relaxed sound that had become rarer since his powers returned. The Eric Summers situation had changed him, made him more serious about the responsibilities that came with what he could do. But moments like this reminded me he was still a teenager, still someone who deserved normal things like pizza and banter with friends.
[TEAM COHESION: ELEVATED. SOCIAL BONDS: STRENGTHENING.]
"What happens to Alex?" I asked, bringing the conversation back to business.
"Same as the others." Clark's expression sobered. "Transferred to a 'specialized facility.'" The air quotes were audible. "Which means—"
"33.1." Chloe had explained the pattern weeks ago. Meteor freaks went in, vanished from official records, and never came out. "He'll disappear."
"Unless we do something about it."
The words hung in the air. We all knew what Clark meant—and we all knew how dangerous that path was.
"Soon," I said. "But not yet. We need more evidence, more allies. If we move too fast—"
"Lex buries us." Clark nodded grimly. "I know. But we can't keep waiting forever."
"We won't." I looked around the barn—at Clark's determined expression, Kara's quiet strength, the pizza boxes and scattered napkins that made this feel almost normal. "We're building something here. A team. Give it time to grow."
For a moment, everything felt possible. Three powered individuals, united by purpose, ready to protect people who couldn't protect themselves.
Then my phone buzzed.
The text was formal, elegant, nothing like the usual communication I received: I believe we have matters of mutual interest to discuss. Please join me at the mansion tomorrow evening. —Lex
The game was changing.
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