Link to Chapter 2
“Great to see you, Dad.” Richard hugged Peter at the airport.
“Grandpa!” Emily yelled, pulling free from her mother’s grip to wrap her arms around Peter’s neck.
“Hi, Sweetie!” Peter kissed her cheeks and rubbed noses with her. “Glad you could make it.” He gave his daughter-in-law a hug and kiss.
“We’re happy to be here,” Amanda said. “We wouldn’t miss it for the world. Chicago can do without this branch of the Parkers for a few days.”
“Is everybody else here?” Richard asked.
“Chrissy came last night and Mary Anna’s probably at the house by now. She called your mother from the limo right before I left.”
“She’s certainly traveling in style these days,” Richard smirked.
“No, she’s not that high profile yet. Her boyfriend owns the limousine company and he’s driving her down. His name’s Carl. From what I’ve heard, they’re pretty serious.”
“It’s nice to hear that she’s finally found somebody after Norman,” Amanda noted, lifting Emily from Peter’s neck.
“It certainly is,” Peter agreed, helping Richard with the suitcases. “Norman’s father was my best friend and I would have liked to see her end up with his son, but if it’s not meant to be, it’s okay with me as long as she’s happy.”
#
Chrissy and Mary Jane were stringing up balloons when a horn honked outside. Chrissy bolted out the door, anxious to see her sister whom she hadn’t seen, besides commercials and television, in almost two years. MJ followed on her daughter’s heels.
Both front doors of the limo opened. A handsome, dark-haired man climbed out from behind the driver’s seat. Mary Anna stepped out the passenger side. Chrissy and MJ raced for her.
She did not appear as a model, wearing jeans and a loose blouse. Her red hair was pulled in a barrette and sat halfway down her back. She smiled and hugged her mother and sister. “This is Carl. Carl Dawkins.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Parker.” He extended his hand. “The way Mary Anna talks about you, I feel like I already know you.”
“This weekend you’ll learn the good things too,” Mary Jane joked, accepting his hand.
“And you must be Chrissy. Your sister wishes she had half your brains.”
“Watch it,” Mary Anna quipped.
“Well, let’s get inside and finish decorating before your father comes home. He should be back soon.”
The three women ran inside, leaving Carl to unload the car.
#
From the roadway, another limousine crawled by the front of the house. Norman Osborn stared from behind tinted windows. Mary Anna, you are so beautiful. Soon your family will be destroyed and I’ll reclaim you as mine. When I finally cracked the codes on my father’s computer, I had to leave you so I could prepare for this moment. Your father destroyed my family. Now I’ll have revenge. “Fritz, you can take me back to the penthouse now.” The car disappeared down the road.
#
“Happy birthday dear…” Peter, Dad, and Grandpa overlapped. “Happy birthday to you!”
“Make a wish, Grandpa!” Emily clapped.
“Help me with the candles.” Peter picked her up and they both blew out all 60 candles.
“What’d you wish for?” Emily asked.
“If I told you it wouldn’t come.” He would not dare mention that he wished to be Spider-Man one last time.
After cake and ice cream, Peter opened his gifts. He received a New York Giants sweatshirt from Emily and the brand-new Cannon Voice Activated camera from Richard and Amanda. Mary Anna gave him 10,000 miles of air travel so that he could visit Mary Jane on her movie shoots. Carl chipped in a VIP limo card for when on her sets in NY. Being a working student and not able to afford much, Chrissy framed the original patent for his super adhesive. Mary Jane produced tickets for a Virgin Islands vacation.
“I’ll give you another present tonight,” she whispered in his ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. They laughed at the innuendo, even Emily who was too young to understand.
“The greatest gift is to have my whole family here with me.” A tear rose in his eye and he brushed it away. “I love you all.” A strange tingle went unnoticed in the back of his skull.
#
Make me ill! Norman Osborn gagged as he watched the video feed of Peter’s party over his television. An illegal device connected to his vid-line fed in from the Parkers’ TV without being detected. Have your moment now, but the Green Goblin will be the death of you. First, I’ll have to discredit you with your former allies before I proceed.
#
The days passed and Peter loved every moment with his family. Chrissy left late Sunday. She wished to stay longer, but had to be work early Monday. Plus, she felt strange, thinking that she might be coming down with something. Nightmares of bloodshed had assaulted her the past two nights. She hoped that a good night’s sleep in her own bed would be sufficient to ward off the virus and suppress the dreams.
Arriving at her building, the security scanner identified her car and allowed safe passage into the parking garage. She lugged her suitcase to the elevator and rode it to the fourth floor. In her apartment, she collapsed on the bed, asleep instantly.
Her immune system had almost overwhelmed the Carnage symbiote in her bloodstream; however, minutes before she returned, her sheets had been sprinkled with more of the symbiote and the increase of the invading life form in her blood turned the tide on an already overtaxed system.
The Green Goblin watched from his glider outside the window, smiling as her body spasmed, knowing that the symbiote’s control was just a matter of time. One Parker child well underway. Another one gone and Mary Anna will be the only one left. For me. He howled as shot for his lair. High tech security systems from surrounding buildings tried tracking the audio, but his repellant costume blocked the video.
Below, a wino saw a shadow blot out the moon. His gaze followed the shape until it disappeared over a distant rooftop. The bum gripped his paper bag tightly, put the end to his mouth, and guzzled its remaining contents. He belched loudly. A breeze brushed past him. He wrapped his coat around him and shivered.
“You saw me,” a voice screeched from behind.
The man whirled around and beheld the flying gargoyle. Gasping, he dropped his sack, shattering the bottle within.
“I can’t have you littering. You need to be punished.” The goblin blasted a low intensity volt from his finger at the man’s feet. The wino jumped, then collapsed to the alley floor, clutching his singed toes. “And I can’t have you telling people about me. Even if they think you’re drunk, some might suspect. It’s too soon.” The Green Goblin blasted him again, only this time with enough juice to operate a city block. The man disintegrated to ashes.
#
At Pym Labs, Chrissy was lethargic most of the day. Her supervisor suggested that she go home and recuperate. She would have loved the day off to rest, but could not drive Carnage from her mind. She looked forward to her afternoon experiments.
After performing initial readings on the symbiote, she discovered that her record from Friday showed 14/100 of a gram missing. Repeating the procedure yielded the same result. She accessed the computer records from the refrigeration room and found that the scan after her mishap did not detect any of the substance. She immediately notified her supervisor who in turn warned security.
Two guards arrived and questioned her about the spill. She informed them that the strict clean-up guidelines were followed. One of the guards reviewed the incident from back-up video. They concluded that a speck of symbiote had adhered to a disposed test tube shard and was incinerated. Just in case their assumption was wrong, they initiated a full building scan for any residue.
At the end of the day, Chrissy returned the remaining sample to its freezer. From the unit, she sifted through the information on Carnage and removed one of the datcards. Sticking it into the wall terminal, she transferred its contents to her workstation. Back in her lab, she watched hours of the villain’s exploits. She was mesmerized. Bodies and bloodshed. Superheroes everywhere. She found it hard to believe that so many heroes fought crime all those years ago. Today the Avengers were the only super powered individuals she had heard of and they weren’t even truly super powered. They were merely the technologically advanced elite strike force of the Deregulation Committee and not a true team of Avengers.
She yawned eight hours past her regular departure time. A dossier on Carnage crafted by Dr. Kafka, Cletus Kasady’s former therapist, waited by the door. After purging the downloaded files, she left with the report. Back home, the symbiote continued its pursuit of her mind as she read about its past.
#
Tuesday morning, Mary Anna kissed everyone bye, squeezing her mother the longest. A two-day shoot in the Swiss Alps awaited her. She wiped tears from her eyes as Carl drove off.
While Richard and Amanda prepared for their trip home, Peter took Emily for a walk. Emily was infatuated by the sight of her first squirrel, giggling as the furry creature eyed them suspiciously before seeking shelter in the trees. It squeaked at them and Emily imitated the sound the whole way home.
Back at the house, the Chicago Parkers bid their goodbyes. Hurriedly, Peter scaled the steps, pulled down the attic, and retrieved the box with his Spider-Man paraphernalia. He had come to a decision during his walk. My life as Spider-Man is over. It’s finally time that I got rid of this. I’m a grandfather and need to start acting like one, not dreaming of my long john days. I’ll dispose of it at the Burnery on the way back.
Peter attempted to conceal the box and dash to the car. Mary Jane stopped him. “What’s that?”
By her tone, Peter realized she knew. “Just something I should have gotten rid of a long time ago.”
“I’m proud of you, Peter.” She kissed his cheek.
Peter pecked her back and then addressed the others. “Everybody ready?”
“You bet, Grandpa.” Emily stuck her thumb up and barked like a squirrel.
They climbed into the Lexus and headed for the airport. MJ waved until the car was out of sight. She would have accompanied them, but was concerned about Chrissy’s recent listlessness and planned to call her.
#
After straightening the house, Mary Jane viewed in on Chrissy. Having taken the day off, she visited her doctor. So far, the lab results failed to reveal anything out of the ordinary; however, her blood test registered a high concentration of white blood cells, but the doctor claimed it was nothing to be alarmed about. She probably had an infection and antibodies were countering it. The doc recommended bed rest for the remainder of the week and even prescribed a mild sedative.
Hanging up, MJ changed into her pantsuit, ready for a jog on the electronic mountain simulator, when the front door buzzed. Cautious of crazed fans, MJ said, “Security.” On the flat panel, a delivery truck parked in front of the house appeared. A diminutive man stood on the front porch holding a small package. MJ held her finger against the electrical shock button, which would send enough voltage to render a man on the porch unconscious, and opened the door. The man grinned in recognition.
“Mary Jane Parker! I don’t believe it. My wife and I are big fans. I didn’t know you lived here!”
“Keep it that way and I’ll give you an autographed snapshot.”
“Will do, Mrs. Parker.”
“Wait out here.” Always wary, MJ set the security system to shock anybody breaking the plane of the doorway before retrieving a photo that Peter had taken for situations like this. She signed it and gave it to the deliveryman.
“Thank you very much. Here.” He handed her the package. “The sender said that it had to be delivered at exactly 1:15.”
“Why’s that?”
“I have no idea, but from what my boss said, he paid a bundle for this extra service.”
“Well thank you,” MJ said.
“No, Ma’am. Thank you.” The man returned to his truck and drove away.
Closing the door, Mary Jane examined the package. Only her address was printed on the parcel, no names designating whether it was for her or Peter. Intrigued, she tore the packing away. A datcard nestled among Styrofoam chips. She popped it into a slot on the TV. A new image flared to life. Her breath caught in her throat.
The Green Goblin’s demonic visage filled the screen. “Eenie, Meenie, Minie, Moe. Which of your children will die real slow? Which will die real fast? Vengeance will be mine at last.” He screeched in laughter as recorded images of Richard, Mary Anna, and Chrissy blinked in random patterns. “Who will be the first? Let me give you a hint.” The airport replaced her children. “Poor Richard.” The card self-destructed like an obscene version of Mission Impossible, blowing most of the circuits in the television.
“Oh, my God,” Mary Jane mumbled. Her heart hammered and her breathing accelerated. “Peter!” Realizing that the television communication device had been destroyed by the datcard, she ran to the garage and burst into her sports utility. “Call Peter,” she ordered the vehicle’s computer system.
#
Making the airport with plenty of time to spare, they talked in the waiting area until the boarding announcement echoed. Peter waved as the three entered the loading ramp. A faint tingle tickled inside his skull. Before he could focus, Emily yelled, “I love you!” The flicker of spider sense vanished. He thought it was nothing. “I love you, too!” He shouted back.
Peter hurried to dispose of his costume before he changed his mind. He caught the shuttle back to one of the many parking lots. Pulling out took almost as long as it did to get in. The heavy traffic of the Metropolitan Area bottlenecked in and out of the airport. Peter veered along the businesses bordering the security fence, when his Bluetooth phone announced a call from his wife.
“Hello, baby,” he answered.
“Peter!” Mary Jane shrieked.
“What?” Peter lowered the volume as MJ yelled unintelligibly. “Calm down, Honey. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Save Richard! He’s in trouble! This datcard came in the mail and…”
“Save him from who?” he interrupted.
“Harry?” MJ answered, unsure.
“Harry?”
“I don’t know. The Green Goblin.” Mary Jane’s breath began to slow. Peter could tell that tears were filling her eyes.
“What are you talking about?” He whipped his car into a McDonald’s and parked in the rear.
She told him. As her story unfolded, Peter recalled the twinge of spider sense when his family boarded the plane. He stiffened. Reaching under his seat he pulled out the box from the attic.
“I have to go,” he said in a monotone voice. “I’ll do what I can.” Shutting of the Bluetooth, he needed concentration. My birthday wish may very well be coming true. I wish it wasn’t.
In a daze, he yanked on the spandex costume in the cramped quarters of his car. Guided by years of practice, he blocked everything from his thoughts, save his spider sense. There was a slight disruption in the background buzz. He could not get a bead on it.
Pulling the mask over his face, he stepped out of the car. The costume felt strange after all this time and it did not fit very well. The fabric hung loose in his arms, chest, and thighs, while it bulged slightly from his stomach and rear. He had no time to think about appearance or the consequences of his actions with regards to the Deregulation Committee. His family was first priority.
From the McDonald’s, he ran behind a few buildings and charged the fifteen-foot barb-wire topped fence. In the distance, a shuttle picked up pedestrians from the parking lot. He cleared the obstacle and darted for the transport. Just before it picked up too much speed, he leapt on top of it. He was sure that some people saw him, but did not care. Minutes later, the shuttle stopped halfway to its destination. Someone must have notified the driver.
Leaping off, Spider-Man dashed towards the terminal. Bystanders stopped and gasped as he weaved through the throngs of people. Some thought it a publicity stunt until realizing he sprinted much faster than a normal man.
Spider-Man barged into the airport and charged the X-ray security device that led into the loading area. Hearing screams, two guards turned from their posts. In unison, each drew his sidearm. Even after years of inactivity, Spidey’s old moves kicked into gear. He tapped his palms with an index finger, forgetting that he had not put on his web-shooters and had no web fluid for that matter.
Thinking fast, he grabbed a suitcase from a woman and hurled it at the guards. It knocked one to the ground. While the other targeted him, Spider-Man leapt over the X-ray device. A barrage of shock volts followed, but he was too quick. He bolted down a ramp to the runways. His legs screamed. His back ached. He never yielded.
On the runway, he hesitated. Three planes were in take-off position and another six were standing by. Having no idea which contained his son or what he was looking for, he closed his eyes and concentrated. A tug in his mind directed him to the first plane just as it started taxiing away.
In a burst of speed, Spider-Man gave chase. He didn’t have much time. The jet could achieve liftoff velocity in fifteen seconds. In twelve, Spider-Man was still forty feet away and launched himself at the accelerating craft.
His hands affixed to its side. Frightened passengers saw him clinging. Starting to slide, he swung his feet up for extra suction. The plane began lifting off. He let its momentum slide him back to the tail’s rudder. He hammered the metal. Bones ground in his hand, but the rudder still held together. Grunting, he ripped a fin off. Losing adhesion, he toppled to the runway.
Rolling with the impact, he was dragged across a hundred feet of asphalt. Part of his costume shredded, revealing torn flesh. Blood streamed from a series of wounds and black dots danced before his eyes as he struggled to remain conscious.
Without the tail intact, the plane bounced back down to earth and stopped a third of a mile away. Police cars whistled along the runway. Spider-Man smiled. Now what? As if on cue, a small explosion disintegrated the plane’s landing gear. The jet fell ten feet to the ground. Everybody should still be in seatbelts. Injuries should be minimal. If that would have landed without wheels in Chicago… I don’t even want to think about it.
Spider-Man saw the approaching police cars. They might think I caused this. At the very least, I’ll be sent away for evading the law all these years. Mary Jane’s career will be ruined, not to mention the kids’ lives. Pain ripped through him as he staggered up. Any second the police would be upon him.
Along the edge of the runway, a thin section of land sloped towards the Potomac River. Dragging himself over the guardrail, he rolled down the incline. At the water’s edge, he looked back. Several policemen raced towards him. Taking a deep breath, he flopped into the river. Lead projectiles blasted by him; these officers were using real bullets, not electrical guns.
Spider-Man hugged the river bottom as he propelled himself for the middle. Underwater almost two minutes, he broke the surface, gasping for air, still within a hundred yards of shore. Police saw him bob up and opened fire. Inhaling deeply, he glanced around. A boat floated downstream about two hundred yards away. He plunged under again, praying for the current to aid in reaching the craft.
Painstakingly, he kicked his legs in the murky water. His eyesight penetrated less than ten feet. His lungs felt ready to burst, yet still he swam underwater. Suddenly the hull of the boat appeared to his left. On the side opposite the airport, he stuck to the side and lifted his head above the water. The hull curled up preventing anyone on board from seeing him. The boat was anchored and fishing lines dangled in the water.
“Wonder what they was shootin’ at?” a man’s voice asked from above.
“Don’t know,” a woman responded. “I think it’s time that we head home. Fish’re done bitin’.”
“Whatever you want,” the man replied.
The anchor raised and the boat drifted downstream, picking up speed when the motor switched on. Spider-Man had difficulty maintaining suction, managing to hold on for about a mile before being cast off.
He treaded water wondering what to do. Finally, he ripped off his mask and let it sink. His shirt followed. He tore his tattered pants at just above the knees and swam towards shore. Anybody seeing him would think he was some loony for swimming in the river at this time of year.
At the bank, he pulled himself onto a grassy knoll. Fatigued, he dropped. His muscles ached and arthritis flared in his joints. Flesh was peeled from his torso and bruises covered his body. He tried to activate the Bluetooth in his ear, but the river had shorted its circuits.
Peter did not know how long he lay still. When he raised his head, the sun was at the far side of the sky and his trunks were dry. He sat up wincing. The skid mark on his side had scabbed over and movement brought it bleeding again. Standing up, his knees popped and he wobbled before steadying himself.
A row of trees separated the thin clearing from a side street. Peter limped to the roadside. Not recognizing the area, he followed the street. A half mile down, an elderly man running a service station cash register ran to his aid.
“This neighborhood is horrible,” the man acknowledged as he led Peter to a chair behind the counter. “I’ll call the cops for you.”
“No,” Peter rasped, his throat raw and scratchy. “Not the police. Just let me call my wife.”
“It’s up to you. But those hoodlums won’t learn unless the law gets a hold of them.” The man scoured before handing Peter the phone.
It was an ordinary telephone with no video capabilities. He dialed his home number. A recording informed that the line was not in service. Recalling that the goblin’s datcard blew up the vid-phone, he dialed Mary Jane’s car.
“Peter!” she shouted after the first ring.
“You need to come get me,” he wheezed.
“Are you all right?”
“I’ll live. Is everyone okay?”
“Richard, Amanda, and Emily are fine. They took another flight home. Spider-Man’s all over the news. Deregulators showed up. They think he’s the saboteur and are considering requesting the Avengers to apprehend him!”
“Just great!” Peter responded, knowing that details revealing his alter ego could not be sent over the airwaves due to broadcast pirates.”
“Where are you? I high-tailed to the airport right after you hung up and honed in on your car’s GPS.”
“I’m not far. Here, I’ll let this guy tell you.” Peter handed the phone to the man.
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Link to Chapter 4
Not Yet Published (but I am trying) 