Authors: Peter David
And then she saw that glider of his coming after him, seeking him out. It let nothing stand in its way. It sailed
through the replica of the globe, crashing in one side and out
the other, knocking the globe off its stand.
At that moment, Mary Jane saw something land on a wall
of a building across the way. She realized belatedly that it
was the thing that had knocked the monster, however briefly,
off its perch. And then she recognized him. How could she
not? His pictures were all over the papers in recent days.
"Spider-Man," she breathed. And if she had ever been
inclined to believe any of those headlines about what a crim
inal mastermind he was, all of those went right out the
window.
"A little help!"
she tried to scream to him over the chaos below, because she still didn't have a firm grip and the balcony seemed on the verge of breaking off anyway. But
Spider-Man wasn't looking in her direction. Instead his
focus was elsewhere.
And then she saw it, too.
The globe that the glider had knocked over was rolling.
Like a gigantic boulder, it was crushing everything in sight, and people were pushing and shoving and screaming to get
the hell out of its way. Directly in its path was a small boy, staring in frozen shock as it barreled right toward him. His
mother was screaming, waving her arms, trying to get to him
and being carried in the opposite direction by the wave of
panicked humanity.
Instantly Spider-Man raised his arm and something came
hurtling out of his wrist
. . .
a web?
My God . . . how weird is
that?
Mary Jane thought.
The web line snagged a billboard high atop a nearby
building and, with no trace of fear, Spider-Man swung off
the building in a huge arc, heading for the little boy, his right
arm outstretched....
I'm not gonna make it, I'm not gonna make it,
thought
Peter, as the little boy trembled in front of the rolling globe.
And then he was right on top of the kid, and the globe was
rumbling so fiercely that it hurt his teeth. He snagged the
boy and whipped his body upward, arching his back as the
globe rolled just under him, snapping a row of parking me
ters as if they were matchsticks.
"You made it!" the boy gasped.
"Never a doubt."
He hurtled past the tent where the green armored nutball
who'd started all this was struggling to get out from under the fallen canvas. He was surrounded by police, and Peter
heard him shout from underneath, "I surrender! I surrender!
Media violence made me do it!"
What a loon,
Peter thought as he angled himself toward a
woman who was waving her arms and screaming "Billy!
Billy!" over and over again.
"That your ma?" The boy nodded, and Peter dropped
down next to the woman.
He saw the look on her face, the fear of his own masked
features, plus who-knew-what-else thanks to the
Daily
Bugle.
But he couldn't give it any further thought. Instead he
handed the boy over to her without comment and turned toward the balcony where Mary Jane was holding on. She
had managed to get some traction and had braced herself so
she was no longer dangling over the street, held by the
strength of her arms alone. Peter was about to swing up to
get her....
When suddenly he heard a roar, a cackling, and he spun
just in time to see a half dozen of New York's finest flying off
in all directions. Standing in the middle of the melee was the
armored monstrosity that had come tearing into the middle
of all this and terrorized so many.
Under his mask, Peter felt his fury growing even as he
charged forward, his booted feet moving with precision and
certainty across the debris-strewn street. He leapt through
the air, did a series of handsprings and somersaults for no other reason than to show this monster just with whom he was dealing, and landed directly in front of his opponent.
"How dare you interfere with me!" snarled the green
goon from beneath his mask. "What do you want?"
"World peace. But I'll settle for your chin."
His arm moved so fast that the armored man never even
saw it coming. Peter's punch lifted him clear off his feet and
sent him tumbling heels over head into a brick wall. His
heart pumping, Peter charged straight at him, cocking his fist
to deliver another fierce blow ...
... and the creature caught it in one metal hand, stopping
the punch in midthrust.
"See what I did there?" he said almost conversationally, and then he drove a punch straight at Peter, and Peter had never, but never, been hit that hard in his life. Not even as a
kid being smacked around by bullies. It was like being
punched by a wrecking ball, and Peter crashed through an ice cream cart and into a lamppost.
The world was spinning around him, and Peter fought off
a wave of nausea as he staggered to his feet. A heartbeat
later, his spider sense screamed a warning and, operating
purely on reflex, he backflipped high in the air. An instant later he saw why he'd felt compelled to do so: The bizarre
glider the guy had been riding had come swooping in behind
him and would have broken his spine if it had struck home. With a gleeful cackle, his armored opponent leapt high in
the air, landing smoothly on the flying wing. His boots
snapped into place with an audible click and up he went into
the sky.
For a moment, Peter allowed himself a breath of relief.
He hadn't caught the guy, but at least he'd managed to chase
him away.
The sound of machine-gun fire alerted him to his error.
Mary Jane, having managed to pull herself away from the edge of the balcony, bringing herself closer and closer to rel
ative safety and Harry's outstretched hand, was starting to
think that the worst was over. Then she heard the machine-
gun rounds pumping away and twisted her head around to get a better view of what was happening.
The nut on the glider was diving down toward Spider-Man, and machine-gun muzzles had popped out of either
wing. Bullets were chewing up the ground, and Spider-Man was moving faster than Mary Jane would have thought pos
sible.
Spider-Man leapt, firing a web line at the same time. It
drew taut and he ricocheted upward, staying just ahead of the
gunfire's path. He swung up and over a huge float of a Rasta
man, as the maniac on the glider disappeared into the sky.
Suddenly the reviewing stand moaned. With a creaking of
metal, the struts began to give out, rivets popping like so
many champagne corks. Harry was still trying to reach
down to M. J., but she was out of range and slipping fast.
She let out a scream that she hoped would attract Spider-
Man's attention.
She succeeded in doing so. She saw Spider-Man look up at her, and an instant later he was moving. A procession of floats stood between her and Spider-Man, but not only did
that prove to be no obstacle to him, they were in fact his
means of getting to her. He bounded from one float to the
next, drawing closer and closer to her.
He'll save me, he'II
save me,
she kept saying to herself, trying to let that new
mantra drown out the continued creaking of the overstressed metal supports.
Spider-Man was in midair when the monster reappeared.
He came ripping down from nowhere on his glider. Spider-Man obviously saw him coming, twisted around in
midleap but was momentarily helpless. And the creature took full advantage of it. The grinning gargoyle smashed
into Spider-Man, wrapping him in a bear hug and driving
him into the building above the balcony. Glass and debris
rained down, and Mary Jane frantically shielded her head as
small bits of rubble and glass bounced off her.
Harry wasn't quite so fortunate. He tried to dodge, but
there was no room to maneuver, and a chunk of rubble
bounced off his head. He wavered where he stood, trying to maintain his footing, but then Mary Jane watched in despair
as his eyes glazed and he slumped over.
Spider-Man shoved away from the building with his legs and twisted around so that he had his toes on the edge of the
glider. There he slugged it out with the armored monster. She could hear the sounds of the metal ringing under the
pounding of Spider-Man's fists, but the creature didn't seem the least bit perturbed, as if—now that he'd readied himself—he could take whatever punishment Spider-Man was
dishing out. Then the creature swung an elbow around,
catching Spider-Man in the jaw. The impact sent Spider-Man
toppling off the glider, and he smashed into the balcony.
The impact of his landing caused Mary Jane to lose not only her grip, but also the small measure of safety she had
managed to obtain with her struggles. She rolled toward the
edge, and she could have sworn she heard Spider-Man cry
out. It was the balustrade that stopped her once again, bring
ing her to a halt but leaving her dangling perilously high
above the street.
Spider-Man rose, started to move toward her, and sud
denly the glider was right there, rising out of nowhere. The
turbojet had gone utterly silent; perhaps he'd had it on only for effect before, or perhaps there was some other power source for simple lifting, like magnetism. She had no idea;
she wasn't a scientist. Peter was the scientist. Deliriously, she wished he were there.
With a deft maneuver, the creature swung his glider
around so that he was facing Spider-Man. There was a hum
ming sound coming from the vehicle, the noise of a weapon powering up. The front section began to glow. Instantly
Spider-Man shot out a web strand. It splattered over the
monster's face with such force that, had he not been ar
mored, it likely would have taken his head off. As the crea-
ture pitched back, clawing at his face, his change in posture
sent the glider's aim off just as the weapon discharged. It ap
peared to be some sort of laser beam, although she couldn't
be sure. But it was a pencil-thin beam of red light, and when
it struck the wall next to Spider-Man, the wall blew apart. If
it wasn't a laser, it was still a damned nasty piece of work.
The glider angled up within range of Spider-Man, and he
leapt upward, grabbing at the underside of the glider. He
came away with a handful of wiring from underneath. Immediately the glider began to smoke and sputter, sparks
crackling from underneath. And its rider was still blinded by
the webbing, howling his indignation as he angled the glider
away from Spider-Man as quickly as he could.