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#2
JUL 09 |
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Test and Trials, Part Two:
“Frantic”
“Frantic”
Peter Parker watched the six o’clock news with little interest. He was drained from teaching again that day; his first week and he was already tired. The phone rang and he picked up the cordless. “Hello?”
“Peter, this is Robbie.”
“Hi Robbie,” Peter replied, sitting up. “What’s up?”
“Have you seen Ben? I know he wanted you to help him out on a story.”
“Nope, haven’t talked to him since he asked me to help out. What’s wrong?”
“The last time he came in was Monday, which is probably the day he talked to you,” Robbie said.
Peter checked his watch—it was Friday.
“I’m thinking he just caught a lead and didn’t let us know, but to not contact anyone for four days? It’s a little unusual, even for Ben Urich.”
“Right,” Peter said. “If he calls me, I’ll let you know. Thanks for calling, Robbie.”
“Sure, Peter,” Robbie replied. “If you need anything, give me a call, alright?”
“You got it. Later.” Peter shut off the phone as his attention was attracted to the news. He picked up the remote and turned up the volume.
“...strange crime all across the country. Children from all over the United States have been disappearing, with no apparent reason or connection. One of the few threads police have to connect the crimes is the apparent forced entries at of each of residences, sometimes entire walls of houses have been torn down to get to the child.” A house in what looked like Nebraska was shown and, like the anchorwoman had said, an entire wall was missing. A woman, probably the kid’s mother, was shown.
“Someone came and took mah Joshua,” the woman sobbed. “Ah’m glad none of mah other children were gone. Ah’m so glad none of mah other children are gone...”
“In another possible connection, reports of the missing children’s siblings being mutants was commented on by mutation expert and head of X-Corps International, Professor Charles Xavier...”
Before Xavier appeared on the screen, a knock on Peter’s window made him jump. Peter turned to see the upside-down face of a man who had posed several...interesting questions to him about his powers “Ezekiel?” Peter muttered, going to the window and opening it.
“Hello, Mister Parker,” Ezekiel said as if he weren’t hanging upside-down on the outside of a building. “Do you have a few minutes to go talk?”
“Um, sure... Let me change into my, uh, work clothes.”
“So,” Ezekiel asked, “how’s life?”
Spider-Man raised his eyebrow at the strange man. “You talk like we’re at some corner cafe. Doesn’t sitting on top of the Chrysler Building seem just a little strange?”
“Why should it? I love the view from here. Can see almost all the city.”
“Yeah...?”
“Have you been thinking?”
“About the whole ‘the chicken or the egg or the power’ thing? A little.”
“Good,” Ezekiel said with a nod. “You’re going to need that outlook on your powers in the coming battle.”
“What coming battle?”
“Peter, your entire life has been a warm-up for this,” Ezekiel said. “You’ve been running from this for years.”
“I haven’t been running from anything,” Peter said skeptically.
“Yes, you have,” Ezekiel said. “Just because you didn’t know about it doesn’t mean you haven’t been running.”
“Gee thanks,” Peter muttered. “First you wax poetic about my powers and get all deep and philosophical, now you make me paranoid.”
“I’m here to help,” Ezekiel said. “Another thing to think about: are you the only one? The only being out there with the powers of the spider? Or of any totem?”
“Totem?” Peter asked.
“A symbol; usually of animals.”
“Then why aren’t there a bunch of Spider-Man wannabes running around throughout the world?”
“Not all of us go public with our powers.”
“Us? There’s more Ezekiels?”
“Maybe. Enjoy the evening, Peter.” With that Ezekiel kicked away from the rooftop and disappeared. Peter looked around, trying to find where he went.
Us???
Spider-Man swung over Times Square, which was just starting to light up. Peter enjoyed watching this happen as on most days it was an incredible sight to behold and, come winter, it was beautiful to behold. Peter saw camera crews at the NBC studios, probably a crowd gathering for something to do with the next morning’s Today Show and swung by, giving the kids outside something to look at. He swung up and onto a nearby rooftop, perched there and began watching the late evening traffic below him.
New York’s a great place. I love living here. If it wasn’t for the psychotic supervillians crashing the town, it’d be heaven. Well, that and the cabbies. And the punks. And the prostitutes. And Hillary Clinton…who fits those other categories quite well.
Spider-Man looked up when he heard a slight whistling sound. His spider-sense flared and he jumped to the side as a crossbow bolt with a note wrapped around it flashed by, sticking into the building where he had just been sitting. Peter picked it up and read:
Greetings Spider,
All eyes are here. Can you find it before it blows? I know you’re no detective spider, but you will have to find it…before it explodes.
After all, you don’t want another more death on your head.
What the hell? More death? What’s going to explode? A bomb?
Morlun stood before a mirror in his ship. He tightened his belt, then put his overcoat on, a black coat that reached his ankles. He buttoned up his shirt to the neck, straightening it until it was perfect.
“Master.” Morlun turned to Dex. The young man had served him well.
“Is he searching?” Morlun asked, straightening his cuffs.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“Good. How long will it take him?”
“An hour, at most.”
“Then let us be prepared.”
Morlun turned and looked at himself. Perfect.
Spider-Man swung over Broadway. The famous street was swarming with people, making it a logical place for a bomber. People in tuxedos and gowns stared up at him, some in anger or fear, others in awe. Scalpers hid their wares and slunk into the shadows.
As if I’d go after you. Oh yeah. First the Rhino, Doc Ock and Venom, then scalpers selling tickets to ‘The Producers’. Yeah, right!
Peter landed atop one of the theaters, wishing he could actively probe with his spider-sense instead of just having a reactive warning, but his spider-sense didn’t flare, so he took a chance and left Broadway for a new venue.
Mariana Pacheco pushed away from the table, rubbing her eyes. Her friend and tutor, Joey Michaels, glared at her.
“Don’t give me that look,” she said. “We’ve been at this for hours. I need a break.”
“Oh come on!” Joey grumbled. “Mister Parker’s homework isn’t THAT bad.” Mari grinned. Joey was earnest and he was right. Parker was better than almost every teacher she had at Midtown (yes, she still called it that, despite the less snazzy current name). That didn’t really matter though after nearly two and a half hours of calculus. The itch in her arm didn’t help.
“You okay?” Joey asked. “You’ve been scratching your arm all night.”
Mari nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I was just thinking about that actually. Had an immunization at a free clinic earlier.”
“Mom still having trouble getting hours?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “She’s at a temp job right now and I was due for a Hepatitis booster, and the Feast center had a free clinic set up…”
“I gotcha,” Joey said. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “If it’s still itching in the morning you need to go back.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
“Flash,” Betty Brant said. “Where are we going?” Flash Thompson and Betty walked hand in hand toward Madison Square Garden. He had showed up earlier that night and told her that they were going out. It had been long enough since Flash had surprised her that she was a little more than curious about what was going on.
“I may have been working for a massive psycho for a couple years,” he said, “but I can still impress my girl.” He reached into his pocket and pulled a small envelope out.
“Flash, are you serious?” Betty asked, tearing open the envelope and pulling out a pair of concert tickets. “How much did this cost?”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Anything for you.”
“Wow,” she replied and wrapped her arm around his waist. “Thank you! This is fantastic!”
“I know,” Flash laughed. “Now come on, we need to hurry.”
Spider-Man landed atop an aging brownstone overlooking a small gym.
This was a longshot, by far, but it was the last thing Peter could think of. The gym was always full of people this day of the week, doing boxing or something like that.
Peter started to swing towards the gym when a spotlight in the sky caught his eye. He looked up and saw several sets of spotlights criss-crossing the sky.
What is that? It’s near... near... The Garden. Oh, no.
Peter swung towards Madison Square Garden at a frantic pace. The newest tour of one of the world’s most popular bands was in New York for their first night. All eyes were there. The world was watching. It was the perfect place to set a bomb.
Morlun stood across from Madison Square Garden watching for his prey. Spider-Man was coming; he could practically taste the meal now, the pure energy that powered him almost flowed off him. He loved it.
“Here he comes, sir,” Dex said beside him.
“Set it off when he is within a block. Make him feel like he’s too late.”
Mariana woke up in the middle of the night. She was sweating profusely and felt like she’d throw up. Whatever that immunization was had really screwed her up. She pushed herself up and her eyes widened in shock.
She wasn’t sitting in her bed.
She was sitting on the ceiling.
Spider-Man swung toward the Garden, watching the spotlights swinging back and forth across the sky. With each rotation he imagined a ticking sound.
Tick, tick, tick.
He should have thought of the Garden long ago. Randy Robertson had been raving about this concert for weeks. When he finally had gotten tickets he had invited Peter along. He’d known about this concert forever. Hundreds of people would die because of his bad memory.
Tick, tick, tick.
Peter swung faster. There had to be time. He had to have enough time left. Randy was in there. And Glory Grant. Probably Jill Stacey. And thousands of people Peter didn’t know. He was almost within a block. He was almost there. He could save them all.
Tick, tick, tick.
Morlun’s ancient lips curled into a sneer as he saw Spider-Man swinging franticly towards the Garden. He was too late.
“Now.”
Peter watched in horror as a fireball erupted through Madison Square Garden. The fireball expanded and enveloped nearly half the building.
“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!” Peter screamed.
I’m too late. I was too late to save them. They all died because of me.
Peter swung into the Garden through the gaping hole from the explosion. He had to atone; he had to find survivors. They had died because of him. None of these people’s lives would ever be the same because some maniac decided to strike out at him.
“Is anyone there?” Peter screamed as he tore into the wreckage. He ripped a girder clear of the rubble, then chunks of cement and catwalk.
He soon came upon the torn body of a ten year-old child. Peter lifted the child clear, cradling him in his arms. The child’s eyes fluttered open and looked at him.
“Are you an angel?” he asked.
“No,” Peter sobbed. “I’m not.”
“Then...then...I went to the other place,” the child sobbed as he slipped from consciousness.
“No son, it’s worse,” Peter cried. He looked up, hoping to see a paramedic or something. “SOMEBODY HELP ME!!! SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE!!!”
“It is time Spider,” said an eerie voice behind him. “There is no one coming. None shall save the child.”
“It was you, wasn’t it?” Peter growled, setting the child’s limp body down.
“Are you prepared to face the hunter, Spider?” the man asked. “Are you prepared to face the being that has hunted you since the day you became the embodiment of the spider? Are you prepared for your destiny? Are you prepared for Morlun?” The man stepped forward, striking an offensive posture.
“Are you prepared to die?”
“Well, since you put it so nicely Captain Cliché,” Peter growled. “BRING IT!”
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To Be Continued...
Next: In Amazing Spider-Man #3: Spider-Man faces Morlun, in a battle that will forever change the life of the web-slinger!
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