It had been a relatively uneventful night for Superman as he went about his routine patrol. He put out a forest fire, foiled a few muggings, intercepted a near car crash, and rescued one kitten from a tree and returned it to one very happy little girl.



He was flying above the world, scanning it with his telescopic vision and super hearing when something made him look upward. He was shocked to see a meteor hurtling towards Earth.



He flew up to intercept it and then felt a horrible, all too familiar sensation. In closer inspection, he could see the vein-like green glow peeking out from the craggy, mostly lead surface of the meteor.



Normally, he would simply throw the meteor in the opposite direction away from Earth. With the Kryptonite quickly sapping his strength, the best he could hope for would be to slow its descent and guide it to an unpopulated area.



Every muscle screamed as he pulled against the meteor, diverting its path. He could feel the heat against his back as the meteor plunged into the atmosphere. His stomach churned and his head began to swim from the radiation of the kryptonite. Everything went black when he and the meteor impacted in the desert of Arizona.



“What in tarnation is this fella wearin’?”



“Beats me. He looks like he might be circus folk. He’s a big ‘un. Maybe the S is for strong man.”



Superman’s head rolled forward weakly as he felt two sets of hands lift him up from underneath his arms. He felt so weak he could only let himself be pulled along, his boots dragging in the sand. His eyes opened and closed, giving him glances of the cowboy boots they wore as they dragged him to a nearby horse and threw him over the back of it.



“Whoever he is, our new mayor wants him brought in. So we’ll throw him in the hoosegow with that English feller.”



One of the cowboys threw his leg over to sit in the saddle of his horse. The other walked beside the horse over which Superman lay sprawled, leading it by its reins. Once more, darkness claimed him.



When Superman awoke, he no longer felt the oppressive heat of the Arizona heat beating down on him. He was staring up at a wooden ceiling and he felt a cot beneath him.



“I see you tried to join the land of the living, mate. You and I are the only ones who can make that claim,” a voice with an English accent said. “Even though there’s more here than just the two of us.”



Superman rose up from his cot, still feeling slightly hung over from kryptonite poisoning. “You’re… John Constantine, right? I remember you from the Monitor’s satellite.”



“Guilty as charged,” the blond Englishman said. He wore a blue suit and a trench coat and bore more than a passing resemblance to the rock singer, Sting.



When Superman rose up from the cot and looked at their surroundings, he realized they were in a jail cell. The jail house had a decidedly old west look to it.



What did you mean by only the two of us being able to claim to be among the land of the living?” Superman asked.



“Take a look at that bloke over there leaning back in his chair. The sheriff,” Constantine said, nodding in that direction.





Taking a closer look at the sheriff, he saw that a beam of light from the window was passing through him to hit the floor. He realized, on second look, that he could see through him to just barely make out the details of the wall behind him.



“Hologram?” Superman asked.



“Ghost,” Constantine said.



Superman stood up and walked to the cell door and grasped the bars. He pulled at them as he tried to pull them apart.



“It’s true that you’re affected by magic the same as the rest of us, innit?” Constantine asked. “This town’s rotten with it. Your powers won’t work here.”



The sheriff turned to him with a look of disbelief. “Those bars are cold steel, son. I don’t care what sorts of tricks you could do back in the circus. You ain’t getting through them.”



The bell over the door jingled as someone entered. “He done woke up yet, sheriff?”



“He’s up, Carl,” he told his deputy.



“The mayor said he wants them brought to the court room at the town hall once he’s woke.”



“Looks like youre gettin’ out of there after all, strong man,” the sheriff said, turning to Superman.



He pulled his gun from its holster with his right hand. With his left, he pulled the key ring off of a nail in the wall by the key to the cell door. He unlocked the door, swung it open, and gestured with the gun. “Walk.”



“Where are we going?” Superman asked as he and Constantine stepped out of the cell.



“To see the judge slash mayor,” Constantine said.



“The Englishman’s right,” the sheriff said. “We like to keep things simple in these parts. Now move.”





As they walked through the town, Superman thought to himself that he would have believed he had gone back in time if it weren’t for the presence of John Constantine. The town looked as if it had been pulled out of an old western movie.



The four of them stepped through the doors of the old wooden town hall and into the court room. It looked as if half the town had shown up for the trial. As they passed by row after row of people dressed in period cloths, Superman noticed that they were looking at them with nervous, anxious expressions. Like the sheriff and deputy, they were slightly transparent.



The sheriff led them to the front of the courtroom and then turned to face the crowd. “All rise for the honorable mayor and judge, …. Tex Arcana.”



Superman turned in shock as one of his most dangerous enemies entered from a doorway in the back of the room. The villain wore a ten-gallon hat and a sarape over his clothes. He had long brown hair, a Winnfield style mustache and a thin Vandyke beard. All worked to give him the appearance of a cowboy themed wizard. The spurs on his boots clicked as he walked into the room and then up the small steps leading to the judge’s bench.



“Whut are thuh charges,” Tex Arcana asked.



“Unlawful entry into the privately owned territory of Prosper, Arizona, subterfuge, spying, treachery…”



“And I’m pretty sure that ‘uns some kind a warlock,” the deputy added, pointing to Constantine.



“And whut have you got against warlocks?” Tex Arcana said, looking down at the deputy.



“Uh… nothin’,” the deputy said with a gulp. An uneasy laughter passed through the crowd.



“That’s what I thought Tex Arcana said with a sneer. His expression changed to a smile as he looked out at the crowd. “I’m now ready to pass sentence.”



“Wait. Don’t we get a trial by our peers?” Superman said.



“Not bloody likely,” Constantine muttered under his breath.



“Well, now. I wouldn’t want to be unfair,” Tex Arcana said. He looked out at the crowd. “Any kryptonians here? Well, how ‘bout English fellers? Well, yuh cain’t say I didn’t try now, can yuh?” He banged down his gavel and said,” Guilty. You hang at sundown!”





“Why go through the charade of a trial?” Constantine asked as the sheriff led them back into their cell and locked the door.



“’Cause we got laws here, same as any town,” the sheriff grumbled.



“That trial was a sham and you know it,” Superman said, grasping the bars. “You’re a man of the law, sheriff. How can you go along with this?”



The sheriff peered back at him with haunted eyes. His Yosimite Sam mustache seemed to droop under the apparent weight he was carrying. “… cause I ain’t got no choice. These people depend on me to keep them safe.”



The sheriff turned and walked to the door. “I’m heading over to the saloon to wet my whistled.” He looked back over his shoulder and looked at them. “You boys don’t do nothin’ like try to escape now. Yuh here?” With that, he left.



“Is it a normal tradition among you yanks to leave prisoners unattended” Constantine said from where he sat casually on the cot.



“No, Superman said. “No, it’s not. You think maybe the sheriff was trying to tell us something?”



“That’s a bet I’d be willing to take,” Constantine said.



“We just need to figure out how to get those keys,” Superman said, eyeing the keys which hung from the nail in the wall by their old fashioned key ring.



Constantine untied his tie and pulled it from his collar. Then he unhooked his belt and pulled it loose. “Can I borrow your belt there, mate?”



Superman took off his yellow belt and then handed it to Constantine. The Englishman then tied his tie to his belt and then the other end of the tie to the end of Superman’s belt without the buckle.



Constantine waved his belt as if cracking a whip towards the key ring on the wall. On the fourth try, he managed to snag the key ring with the hook from Superman’s belt buckle pull it free from the nail. Fortunately, the ring was still caught in the hook, so Constantine was able to pull it towards them.



“Ha!” Constantine said, triumphantly. “Just a quick swing of the wrist and Bob’s yer uncle.” With that, he picked up the keys and unlocked the cell door.



On the way out, Superman took a cowboy hat and long duster hat that hung from the coat rack to hide his costume. Constantine notice a pistol that had been left on the desk and placed it in the pocket of his trench coat.



“We had better take the back alleys,” Superman said.



“Yeah, we wouldn’t want any looky Lous having a look see at those shiny red boots of yours,” Constantine chuckled.





Superman and Constantine moved behind the buildings of the town of Prosper, stopping as towns folk passed across alleyways in order to remain unseen. Finally, they reached the last building lining their side of the main street. Sitting apart from the rest, at the end of the street, was the town hall.



“If Tex Arcana is using the Town Hall as his base of operations, then that’s where we want to go,” Superman said.



“But you don’t have your powers,” Constantine said.



“But I’ve heard you know a trick or two,” Superman said, smiling.



Hopefully, it’ll be enough to keep us from getting killed,” Constantine said.The two of them made a mad dash from the row of buildings to the town hall, praying they went unnoticed.



Once they reached the back of the building, Constantine tried the door. “Bloody hell! It’s locked,” he cursed.



“I figured it would be,” Superman said. “Stand back.”



It’s a little known fact that Superman is a master of the Kryptonian martial art known as kluklor. He backed up and then skipped forwards sideways before leaping into a flying side kick that sent the door flying off his hinges.



“Looks like you know a few tricks, too, mate,” said Constantine said, impressed.



The two stepped over the fallen door and into the back room of the building. The room was filled with magical objects. “Oi! What I could do with beauties!” Constantine said with a whistle.



On one table was a replica of the planet Earth and beside it was a miniature of the meteor Superman had been forced to stop.”



“What in the world?” Superman exclaimed.



“Tex Arcana’s power is a mix of hoodoo and shamanism he learned from the demon who killed his father and then raised him,” Constantine said. “What you’re looking at is a voodoo doll of the entire planet.”



“So I was led here,” Superman said. “How do you know so much about him?”



“When there’s a new magic user on the block, I make it my business to know,” Constantine said. “That’s why I’m here.”



Constantine’s eyes drifted to several shelves on the walls filled with many blue bottles. “I think this is what we’re looking for.”



Why?” Superman asked.



“It’s a hoodoo practice to trap spirits in blue bottles,” Constantine said. “He’s probably got half the town trapped in here and is drawing from their spirit magic. The other half is forced to serve him out of fear for their friends and family.”



“That explains why someone like the sheriff would be working for someone like Tex Arcana,” Superman said.





“We’re taking these,” Superman said, peering closely at one of the bottles. Inside, he saw a swirl of smoke that moved about the bottle as if looking for a way out.



“How are we supposed to carry this lot?” Constantine asked, gesturing to the bottles.



Superman took off the duster, removed his cape, and placed it on the floor. He began taking blue bottles off the shelf and placing them in the center of the cape. Constantine looked at him dubiously.



“Don’t worry,” Superman said. “It stretches.”



“We’re never going to get that out of here,” Constantine said, looking at the narrow doorway they had entered.



Both of them turned their eyes towards the larger door that led into the main hall. “You can’t be serious,” Constantine said.



“That’s the only way out,” Superman said.



They both peered out the door as they barely cracked it. Fortunately, the main hall was empty.



Superman hefted the large bundle, grunting under its weight. He missed having super strength. The two of them crept through the main hall, keeping an eye out for anything that might suddenly jump out at them.



As they stepped outside, all eyes were on them. The townspeople stared at them curiously. Even the sheriff stood leaning against a post, making no move to stop them.



Superman and Constantine walked to the middle of the main street and stopped. They opened the bundle and Constantine lifted up one of the blue bottles.



“People of Prosper, you are now free!” Superman called out to the crowd. “Your loved ones are no longer hostage!” Constantine broke the seal on the bottle and the spirit inside escaped in a spiral of smoke and twinkling lights as it rose into the heavens and disappeared.



As Constantine lifted another bottle, the sky grew darker and a swarm of blackbirds appeared, landing on the edges of the rooftops of the buildings lining the street. “He’s back,” an old woman cried, holding her hands up to her mouth in horror.



The blackbirds left the rooftops and flew to the other end of the street and swarmed in a tornado like spiral. When they dissipated, Tex Arcana was there.



“You boys are messin’ with forces you ain’t ready for,” Tex Arcana said, walking towards them, his spurs clicking with every step.



I understand them just fine,” Constantine said, dropping the bottle in his hand. It shattered against the ground, releasing the spirit inside to spiral up into the sky.



“So that’s the way it’s gunna be, huh,” Tex Arcana said. He lifted his hands and two hangman’s nooses attached to long ropes seemed to appear out of nowhere, slithering from both directions across the ground. They made rattlesnake noises as they zig-zagged snake-like across the ground towards them.



Tex Arcana spit a wad of tobacco spit and said, “I tol’ you that you was gonna hang at sundown.”



One of the nooses leapt up and wrapped itself around Superman’s neck. He fell to the ground, gasping for air. The other wrapped itself, anaconda-like, around Constantine and he lost his footing and fell to the ground. He grunted in pain as it began to constrict.

With the arm that wasn’t pinned to his side, he was able to reach the pocket of his trench coat and remove the gun he had taken from the sheriff’s desk earlier. He fired again and again at the pile of blue bottles. With each shot, spirits were released to soar into the sky.



Superman felt his strength returning as the spirits flew into the sky to disappear. He reached up to the noose around his neck. As it split in half, it let out a screech like a wounded animal.



With a blast of heat vision, Superman shattered the remaining bottles. The last of the spirits soared upwards when released.



The rope around Constantine grew slack, lifelessly. He rose to his feet, dusting himself off.



Tex Arcana let out a cry of rage as he saw the source of most of his power destroyed. Superman turned, ready to deal with the worst he had to offer.



“Don’t think we’d done yet, Superman,” he said, fixing him with an icy stare as the blackbirds swarmed towards him. They spiraled around him, blocking him from view. When they flew away once more, he was gone.



A cheer rose from the crowd of townspeople who had stood watching. They each turned into a swirl of glittering smoke and then rose into the sky.



The last one to leave was the sheriff. He tipped his hat and said, “You done real good, boys.’ With that, he, too, disappeared into a spiral of smoke and rose into the sky.



With all the spirits gone, the town suddenly changed from the bustling town of the old west. It now looked like the derelict ghost town it was…abandoned for over a hundred years.



“Well, I for one, am positively knackered,” Constantine sighed wearily. “I must say my trip to Arizona wasn’t boring.”





Constantine said an incantation over the voodoo doll of the planet, rendering it useless. He took a few select items from Tex Arcana’s collection and put them in an old duffel bag he found in the general store. The rest were of a darker magic, so he let Superman incinerate them with his heat vision.



Well, that takes care of that,” Constantine said, extending his hand to Superman.



Superman shook his hand and said, ”Is there anywhere I can fly you? It’s a long walk to the next town.”



“If you could fly me to Houma, Louisiana, that would be ace, mate.” Constantine said. “There’s a bloke there I need to pay a visit.”



As Superman took to the sky with John Constantine, he thought of Tex Arcana’s last words. He knew it would not be the last time he faced him.