In case you missed it:
-Peter and young May Parker have in recent months come under the patronage of the mysterious Aladdin Agency, prompting Peter to do special ‘favors’ for Aladdin agents Daniel Toy and Charlene Bronson out of respect for their arrangement. (issue 32)
-One of these ‘favors’ was the investigation of a mysterious weapon system entitled ‘The World’, which seems to have some connection to the Tinkerer. (issues 39-40) But the one man connected to all of this is Alexander Lukin (issue 40)…and who knows what he’s thinking!
-Peter’s arch-nemesis, Liz Osborn, has told Peter she’s staying on the sidelines while Peter raises his daughter, (issue 37) but she’s hired the Ghost as a contract thug, and has gotten someone else to don the Rose Goblin costume instead! Liz also seems to have some connection to the World. (issue 42)
-Randy Robertson has returned to Peter’s life…and his spare room (Annual 2007)
-Peter and Betty Brant have been enjoying each other’s company for a little while but nothing has really developed, except a date this tonight! Betty’s been busy with her partner at the Daily Bugle—Ben Urich—working on a story about the World. (issue 38)
-The Hobgoblin has come back to town, after having his company stolen out from under him. He’s declared his vengeance on those who’ve wronged him…particularly Alexander Lukin. (issue 41)
-Angela Yin told Peter point-blank that she wants to be Spidey’s new photographer. And nothing is going to stand in her way. (Annual 2007)
-A new Foolkiller has started a strange pattern of murders and assaults in order to crush Spider-Man. These victims include J. Jonah Jameson (issue 38) and Curt Connors (Annual 2007), the latter of whom has gone to jail for the Foolkiller’s crime. Foolkiller’s yet to confront Spidey himself, but he has gained a prototype of a Lizard formula, which he’s used on an unsuspecting Curt Connors—and the Lizard is free again! (issue 43)
-Eugene Patillo-Slodnik, the formerly fabulous Frog-man, disappeared from Peter’s life (issue 36) but he’s reappeared wearing a stolen costume from Spidey’s old friend, the Prowler (Annual 2007, issue 41). He also brought with him Ronin, an enigmatic ninja who seems to know a lot more than he’s letting on.
-Eugene is eager to help Peter, however, and gave him and Betty Brant information regarding the World, specifically a weapons deal at New York Harbour. (issues 41, 42) Ronin helped Eugene gather more information from Mys-Tech (issue 43)
-Peter and young May Parker have in recent months come under the patronage of the mysterious Aladdin Agency, prompting Peter to do special ‘favors’ for Aladdin agents Daniel Toy and Charlene Bronson out of respect for their arrangement. (issue 32)
-One of these ‘favors’ was the investigation of a mysterious weapon system entitled ‘The World’, which seems to have some connection to the Tinkerer. (issues 39-40) But the one man connected to all of this is Alexander Lukin (issue 40)…and who knows what he’s thinking!
-Peter’s arch-nemesis, Liz Osborn, has told Peter she’s staying on the sidelines while Peter raises his daughter, (issue 37) but she’s hired the Ghost as a contract thug, and has gotten someone else to don the Rose Goblin costume instead! Liz also seems to have some connection to the World. (issue 42)
-Randy Robertson has returned to Peter’s life…and his spare room (Annual 2007)
-Peter and Betty Brant have been enjoying each other’s company for a little while but nothing has really developed, except a date this tonight! Betty’s been busy with her partner at the Daily Bugle—Ben Urich—working on a story about the World. (issue 38)
-The Hobgoblin has come back to town, after having his company stolen out from under him. He’s declared his vengeance on those who’ve wronged him…particularly Alexander Lukin. (issue 41)
-Angela Yin told Peter point-blank that she wants to be Spidey’s new photographer. And nothing is going to stand in her way. (Annual 2007)
-A new Foolkiller has started a strange pattern of murders and assaults in order to crush Spider-Man. These victims include J. Jonah Jameson (issue 38) and Curt Connors (Annual 2007), the latter of whom has gone to jail for the Foolkiller’s crime. Foolkiller’s yet to confront Spidey himself, but he has gained a prototype of a Lizard formula, which he’s used on an unsuspecting Curt Connors—and the Lizard is free again! (issue 43)
-Eugene Patillo-Slodnik, the formerly fabulous Frog-man, disappeared from Peter’s life (issue 36) but he’s reappeared wearing a stolen costume from Spidey’s old friend, the Prowler (Annual 2007, issue 41). He also brought with him Ronin, an enigmatic ninja who seems to know a lot more than he’s letting on.
-Eugene is eager to help Peter, however, and gave him and Betty Brant information regarding the World, specifically a weapons deal at New York Harbour. (issues 41, 42) Ronin helped Eugene gather more information from Mys-Tech (issue 43)
Back to GatefoldIssue #44 by Bryan Locke
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"SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE"
“Miss Brant?”
Betty turned. She felt her thin, laced stilettos tap the floor sharply. There was a bright flash in her eyes, and very quickly, she heard the word, “Cheese!”
“Parker!” Betty blinked a few times to see clearly again, but she still reached out to slug him in the shoulder.
“Hey, hey!” Peter kept the camera to his eyes, and easily avoided Betty’s graze. “I can’t have one little snap of the best looking girl in this whole place?”
Betty let herself smile, and moved a lock of her brown hair behind her ear. Pearl earrings shined in the light. “This is one-night only attire. You better take more than one picture.”
Peter’s mouth was suddenly dry. “As you wish.” He let the lens examine her red dress, past the spaghetti straps, to the draped neckline, along her curves (which the dress clung to with dangerous smoothness), all the way to the flutter hem. He didn’t bother stopping until he saw her black multi-banded stilettos again. The camera flashed more than once at her.
Betty turned on her heels, so that the camera (or Peter?) could have a better look at every inch of her. Peter noticed he wasn’t the only one taking that better look. Tuxedoed gentlemen were all over the room, and Peter had seen every single one take a long look at Betty. Some of the women too, much different looks on their faces.
Peter finally dropped the camera, letting it hang on his neck. “Hold on.” He raised his hands. “I gotta find something to wipe the steam off the lens.”
Betty laughed. “Uh-huh.” She reached at the table near her, and handed Peter a wine flute. She took another for herself. “You didn’t tell me you’d be on time. No wonder you took me by surprise!”
Peter smirked. “Are your feet as quick as your tongue, Miss Brant?” Peter sipped his wine and motioned at the eight member jazz band that was playing in one corner.
Betty’s eyes widened. “Since when did Peter Parker learn to dance?”
Peter looked shocked. “I’m very spry on my feet.” Peter shuffled a little bit. “It makes it easier to sweep unsuspecting ladies off theirs.”
Betty looked him up and down. Then, she put her flute on the trey of another waiter passing-by. “Alright. Show me what you know.”
Peter let her slip her hand into his own, and led her to the section of the wide room that had been reserved for the dancers. They passed tables draped with the widest varieties of foods, from meat, to cakes to caviar. They broke through little bubbles of conversation, interrupting gossip, or self-absorbed bragging. They passed under the wide banner that read, ‘The Stacy Foundation Annual Journalist’s Ball’. Peter turned around when they reached the dancing square, pulling Betty and wrapping his left arm around her hip. He held his right hand up, and Betty slipped her left hand over it.
“You’re not going to start singing, are you?” Betty whispered to him.
Peter shrugged. “I only sing in the shower.”
Betty snorted.
“Just kidding! You know I don’t take showers.”
Betty playfully wrinkled her nose. “Is that what that is?” She pulled back on Peter’s arm. “Maybe I don’t want to get too close.”
Peter pulled her sharply back to him, pressing his hips against hers. “Oops! Too late! Now, follow my—”
A sharp slap on his shoulder derailed any train of thought.
“I don’t believe it!”
Peter winced, not because of the slap. He recognized the voice. He turned around and saw a man just slightly taller, a bit thinner, blonde hair closely cropped on his head, and under his bottom lip.
Paul Stacy asked, “May I cut in?”
Peter for a precious second could only stare at Paul. The last time he’d seen Paul Stacy, the man had overdosed on heroin*. The last time Peter had seen Paul Stacy…Jill Stacy was still alive**.
(*-that would be the seminal issue 25, **- Mike took Jill with him into the sunset in his last ish, #30- Bryan)
“It’s my party, after all.” Paul’s smile was unblemished.
Peter blinked quickly, and tried to answer, and, in his shock, dropped Betty’s hands. He didn’t realize his mistake until too late. Paul turned his smile on Betty.
“Enchanted.” Paul wrapped his arm around Betty’s waist, and took her hand.
“Mister Stacy.” Betty sounded hesitant. “You throw a lovely party.”
“Thank you. I hope Peter told you how far back we go.” The smile aimed at Peter now. “I hope he’s told you how many times he’s ignored my VIP invitations.”
Peter felt his face flush red. Betty looked at Peter with a frown, settling herself in for a dance with Paul Stacy, but she quickly smiled when she looked back at Paul. As Paul started to twist away with Peter’s date, Peter heard Paul say quickly:
“Don’t go anywhere, Pete! We’ve got so much to talk about!”
Peter took in a breath and watched them go. What…just happened?
“You should try to shrimp cocktails. They’re scandalous.”
Peter visibly jumped as the nasal voice spoke up behind him. Ben Urich patted him on the back.
“Easy, cowboy.” A small glass with more ice cubes in it than brown liquid was settled his hand. Ben shook it around lamely. “She’s going to hate you for making her do that. She had to endure fifteen minutes of that guy before you showed up. Jonah was making us schmooze up to him.”
Peter wiped his brow. “Don’t worry. I hate myself enough already for that.” He smiled a bit. “I’m glad you’re okay. I…heard about that explosion you were in.*” He grabbed a shrimp cocktail from the plate in Ben’s other hand and downed it quickly.
(* - issue 42 – Bryan)
Ben rubbed his neck. “Eh, I’ve had worse. It’s Angela I was really worried about.”
Peter cringed and looked around, wondering if the nosy photographer was around to harass him again*. Peter Parker wasn’t exactly high on her list of friendly people, even if Spider-Man was. He sighed and munched another shrimp cocktail.
(*- Angela and Peter had a rather heated exchange in the Annual 2007- Bryan)
“Don’t worry.” Ben caught him. “Jonah’s got her covering softer stuff for a while. She’s at the Connors transfer tonight.”
Peter eased slightly. Then, he looked around again. He spied J. Jonah Jameson schmoozing close to a tall stage. The mayor of New York just happened to be talking in the same circle. Peter chuckled. The only time I ever see Jonah smile is when he fakes it. I hope he’s well, after what he had to endure from the Foolkiller*. He tipped me off about him, but I haven’t seen anything more in recent weeks**.
(*-issue 38, **-this means Spidey hasn’t checked out Max2000 issue 21!- Bryan)
“Just the man I wanted to see.”
Peter sighed. How many times were people going to sneak up on him tonight? He turned around once more and saw Joe “Robbie” Robertson. He was looking sharp in his tuxedo, and his wine flute in his hands. But his face was grave.
“Peter,” Robbie stuck out his wine-less hand for Peter to shake. Peter did, and Robbie continued, “You look well. You didn’t the last time I saw you.* I was worried.”
(*- again, the ASM annual 2007- Bryan)
Peter tried to chuckle it off. “Well, your son certainly doesn’t help the stress level. You know what I mean…”
Robbie seemed confused. “You’ve seen Randy?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah! You bet I have—erm, I mean, you haven’t?”
Robbie shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen Randy in months.”
Peter tried to not look bothered by that bit of news. He was going to pry a bit farther, but that’s when the jazz band stopped playing. Peter’s eyes flashed back to the dance square.
Paul Stacy was already coming over to him, leading Betty through the crowds of men and women usually much older than the three of them.
“Peter!” Paul laughed as he joined in with Robbie and Ben. “I won’t steal your date any longer.”
Peter smirked. “Gracious, Paul. That’s you to the core. Always has been.”
Betty was quickly back to Peter from Paul’s side. A pain shot through Peter’s ribcage and he had to keep from screaming—Betty pinched him very, very hard. She pulled him down to whisper in his ear, and cleverly picked up two wine flutes at the same time: “If you ever do that to me again, Parker, I’ll break both your arms.”
She handed him a wine flute.
Peter took it, biting his lip as he stood up fully. Paul was just getting done reacquainting hands with Robbie and Ben. Suddenly, Ben seemed jostled, but pulled a cell phone from his jacket. Looking at the ID, he excused himself.
Paul looked back at Peter. “So, Pete. You’re the last guy I ever thought I’d see here. What have you been doing with yourself?”
Don’t act weird, don’t act weird, you are cool as the other side of pillow, tiger…Peter shrugged. “School, but mostly my daughter’s been keeping most of my time.”
“Little May.” Paul nodded. “This is the same little baby rescued from my sister’s killers, right? A sweet little daughter that—ha!—none of us knew you had.”
Peter froze, dimly aware of the thundering that had started in his chest. He felt Betty grip him a little tighter around the arm. When he looked at her, a soft smile helped his composure. Suddenly, Robbie’s cell phone rang. Robbie patted himself and then remembered which pocket he put it in.
Peter sipped at his wine and said, “I was lucky, Paul.”
“That ol’ Parker luck!” Paul laughed. “Heard that one before.” He swilled deeply at the wine in his hand.
“But what about you?” Peter tried to ease into a different subject. “Do you spend all your time throwing parties for your family’s charity?”
Paul let out a guffaw—“HA!”—but then looked serious. “No, I’m actually working as a lab assistant at ESU’s science department. Didn’t you try doing the same thing once or twice? You’d like what we’re experimenting with now.”
Peter heard more cell phones starting to ring. Even Betty was thrown from his side by a sudden noise emanating from her purse. Peter watched her rifle through the bag to find it, and then saw that many other women at this Journalist’s Ball were doing the exact same thing. The men were looking through their jackets, pulling cells as well.
Peter frowned. Something’s got all the reporters spooked…
Paul Stacy was still talking, but Peter was hardly listening anymore. “We’re working with a variant of the Connors formula…”
Peter was looking at Betty. Pressing her phone against her shoulder, she whispered to him: “Something’s going on down at North Midtown. I’m going to make a few calls…”
Peter felt his stomach sink. The police station at North Midtown was one of the only ones in New York City equipped with enough technology to adequately imprison a superhuman. It was currently where Curt Connors was being held.
Wait…what was Paul talking about?
Peter looked back at Paul. “What did you say?”
Paul grinned wide. “The Connors formula. There was one left after that messy incident with Doctor Wiles. It’s still university property, and we get to play around with it. Fascinating stuff. Right now, we’re experimenting on lizards.”
The room was absolutely abuzz now. Journalists were rushing to the sides of other journalists, hoping to get rides to 53rd Street. Some were getting on the line with photographer friends, hoping to get one of them down there to see something, anything.
Paul and Peter were standing not two feet from each other. Nobody paid them any mind at all.
“What have you done, Paul?” Peter said, not afraid to say what he wanted.
Paul smirked, and drank at more of the wine. “It’s just an experiment, Peter. You should see how dangerous lizards can get. But then again, some would argue that mindless beasts will act mindless, even if given a placebo…”
Peter felt his fist clinching. Paul was still smiling. Then, Paul turned his back on him. “I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you do best. Tell the wall-crawler I said ‘hi’. I have a funny feeling you’ll see him later.”
Peter didn’t waste any time. He looked back at Betty.
She wasn’t looking at him, even had her back turned to him a little. She yelled into her phone, “Yeah, you’ve heard about what’s going down at 53rd? Because I know you can at least get me photos, that’s why—how am I supposed to get there? I’m in TriBeCa tonight, Richie, remember? Huh? I’m just with a friend, an old friend that I’ve worked with for long—” and that’s when Betty suddenly felt a familiar sinking in her stomach.
Betty did a 360 on her heels, already expecting what came. Peter had disappeared.
She forgot about her phone. “Dammit, Parker…”
“Are you crazy?”
Angela Yin poked her head around the corner, peering down a long hallway. She looked quickly down the other direction. Then she looked behind her, at Sally Floyd.
Angela didn’t usually work with Sally, though they had in conjunction with Ben Urich at certain times. Sally was an alcoholic. Angela didn’t usually respect alcoholics, and neither did J. Jonah Jameson, which was why Sally was being punished with such assignments like a prison transfer of a has-been super-villain. But Angela still thought Sally was pretty cool. Her haircut was hot and butch, and she always looked like a badass Bridget Fonda whenever she smoked a cigarette.
“Come on, Sally.” Angela laughed. “You know you wanna.”
Sally peered down the hallways in the same way Angela did earlier. She sighed, and said, “Of course I do but…” She hung her head, disappointed. “I’ve got a little girl to take care of. I cannot die tonight. She’s staying with my ex-husband.”
Angela laughed. “Okay. Then it’s up to you to tell everyone you know how cool I was before I died.”
Sally laughed and said, “Deal.” She pulled Angela into a quick hug. “Be careful, honey.” Then Sally darted like a rocket across the several yards of tile separating the two from the entrance to the police station behind them.
Now, Angela was sure she was the only thing left in this building. Well, the only one besides, you know, the freakin’ Lizard. All the cops had dashed like crazy out of the precinct house. Code: BLUE was apparently on their way, but in New York traffic? Angela heard they were coming all the way from Staten Island…didn’t they have a helicopter?
Angela took another step. She had waited with Sally outside for what felt like hours (but was probably only fifteen minutes) and then she decided that this was her only course of action. Money from these photos would probably pay her shelter and food for the next eight weeks! True it was just Curt Connors—a poor man’s Bruce Banner, but from how fast those cops were running, maybe Angela would get lucky and see a real monster.
Another turn, Angela slowly angled her head in that direction…all clear. Angela absently thumbed at her camera. For a police station, it was pretty ordinary. That’s probably because it was so old. It had the look of something that was trying to be a bit more majestic than it had any right to be. Outside, it was pretty simple (nothing to offend anyone) and on the inside the walls and tiles were the same shade of bland. Chairs with ripped cushions lined the walls. Wide, clear glass separated the working officers from the perps, or the citizens. The precinct house was a pretty big building, so the Lizard could have been anywhere on the many floors…
But it was still too quiet for Angela’s stomach to stop turning.
Angela couldn’t take it. “Come here, Lizzy, Lizzy…heh, Thin Lizzy…guess who just got back today?” She peered through the empty rooms behind the glass. “Them wild-eyed boys that had been away…” Angela spied all the cop equipment inside the standard ‘booking’ area (she didn’t know what that room was called—the Bookery?). “Haven’t changed, had much to say…” She hummed and looked back down the hallway. “But you know I think them cats is crazy…” There was another turn up ahead.
“The boys are back in tow-ow-owwn…yeah, the boys are back in town…” She nervously poked her head around another corner.
She stopped singing. She pulled her neck back. She took deep breaths. One quick look down at the camera and…
Angela looked back down the hallway. She stared, then brought the camera up to her eye, and after another quick second, she pressed the small button at the camera’s top.
Luckily, the Lizard didn’t hear the shutter click.
But Angela had got it all: there was blood seeping closer and closer to her, spreading over white tiles from the prone bodies of two faceless policemen. The Lizard was hunching over them both as if studying their bodies. There was a wide fin from the base of spine, getting taller then smaller on its way to his neck. Every so often, his skin color would fade in and out of different shades of green and black.
Angela pressed the button again, then again, and again. Then, she whipped back down the hallway behind her. Then, she exhaled.
She had to get more than this. Maybe if she was quiet enough, she could follow the Lizard farther into the police station, maybe get shots of the faces of those policemen…
Angela took another breath, and then she looked down the hallway again.
She saw herself, wide-eyed, reflected in yellow, pointed fangs. Wet jaws opened and a long, narrow tongue slithered, whipped at her, coming mere inches from her face. The Lizard’s breath was cold against her face. Bulbous, glowing eyes blinked.
“Prrrrtttt-eeee Grrrrlllll…” was the sound that leaked from warped vocal chords.
“Awww that’s so cuuute!” this was a new voice.
The Lizard spun on its heel, still keeping a claw aimed at Angela, but recognized the red and blue figure behind him.
Spider-Man stood there with his arms crossed. “Does Lizzy got a crush?”
“Sssssppyyyyydddrrrrrr…” it was long, and low.
Spidey cocked his head. “A crush on me? Oh shucks, Lizzy, you’re nice and all, but I’m a Leo, and we don’t dig scales and all that cold-blooded…ness.” He raised his fist at the Lizard, then said, “Now run toward my knuckles!”
The Lizard obliged. He’d forgotten about Angela, and he dived at Spider-Man, claws first, jaws snapping.
But Spider-Man was already up in the air. One quick jump, bounce off the Lizard’s snout, send him hard into the tile, then flip down in front of Angela and say something funny like--
“You know the best angle to shoot a seven-foot ravenous monster?” Spidey landed right in front of her, pointing his finger at Angela’s camera.
Angela seemed a bit stunned but answered quickly, thumbing her lens. “Where?”
Spidey grabbed her arm, spun her around, and pushed her down the perpendicular hallway. “One-hundred eighty degrees in the other direction! And running!”
Angela stopped herself. “No way! I can take care of my—”
SPIDER-SENSE~!
“Leaping lizards!” Spidey said, spinning around to catch the…leaping Lizard.
They flew backward in a tackle, going through a reinforced glass window, with the Lizard breaking some of the brick wall into chunks. Hitting and bouncing off a metal office desk, they broke free of each other.
“Does my insurance cover leaping lizards?” Spidey shook off the daze.
The Lizard had not landed far. Spider-Man didn’t need his--
SPIDER-SENSE~!
—to know what was coming. He did what felt natural: he jumped, and landed in a crouched position, upside-down on the ceiling. And watched the Lizard sail through the air under him. The wide fin on the Lizard’s back scraped at Spidey’s nose.
But the Lizard’s thick tail smacked Spider-Man like a plank, right under the chin.
Spidey hacked, felt his world spin, then go black for an instant when he hit white tile. His vision hadn’t returned for three seconds when he felt something cold and heavy pin him at his wrists, then a crushing weight at his gut.
When his vision was finally cleared of purple spots, Spidey saw yellow, gnashing teeth. A long, winding tongue whipped like a serpent itself.
“Eww!” Spidey said, “Do you use tongue on all your dance partners?”
Pushing his knees upward together, Spider-Man flipped the Lizard off of him, and then through what was left of the wall they had already toppled through. The Lizard tumbled right past Angela Yin, who was standing with her camera to her eye, her finger easing off the button. Spider-Man was up quickly, jumped over some rubble to get to her.
“If there’s no one around to hear your one and two-liners,” Angela seemed curious, “do you still talk like that?”
Spidey grabbed her arm and, pulling, said, “You heard it.” He yanked her back toward the hallway leading to the exit.
“Yeah.” Angela shook him off. “But if I wasn’t here…you’d still talk to yourself, wouldn’t you?” Angela raised her camera and flashed a shot right in Spidey’s face. She was smiling when she lowered the camera. “I don’t know whether I should find that cute or crazy.”
“I’m having that same problem with your very presence in front of me.” Spider-Man tapped his foot impatiently. Spidey suddenly felt a wave of dizziness, then noticed how much he had been sweating. So much so, his costume was sticking to his body
But he saw Angela responding by shaking her head. She said, “I’m not a damsel in distress. And there’s a Lizard behind you.”
SPIDER-SENSE~!
Spider-Man tried to jump but the Lizard tackled him once again, taking him to the tile, sliding through several chucks of glass and debris. When they slid to a stop, the Lizard’s clawed hands were tight around his throat. Spidey’s own hands weren’t enough to pry them away. The Lizard’s legs were crushing his stomach, making it impossible to catch his breath.
Angela Yin appeared over the Lizard’s shoulder, and clicked another flash.
It was eerily quiet. Even the Lizard had calmed his hissing, if only to focus on the murder he was committing. The web-slinger couldn’t even struggle in the debris, he was pinned so tightly. But Spider-Man managed to squeak, “Rrrrrockkk…pleeessss…” Angela realized he was talking to her. His hand was pointing at Angie’s feet.
Angela looked down, then at Spider-Man, then heaved the nice chunk of wall into Spidey’s hand. Spider-Man subsequently clobbered the Lizard across the temple with it. The Lizard caved to the side, and Spidey, gasping, helped him that way with a punch.
Spidey rubbed at his neck and wheezed, “Just how much money are you getting for putting my near strangulation on the front page?”
“Ouch.” Angie said. “Be nice. I just saved your life.”
Spider-Man suddenly fell to his knees. “Whoa.” Spidey mumbled. His eyes were seeing spots, and the dizziness was getting stronger. The room was so hot…What’s going on here? I feel so sick all of a sudden…what’s happened? Was it the Lizard? Dread crept into his mind. He has poisoned me before after all…
SPIDER-SENSE~!
Spidey jumped up to a crouch to see the Lizard was back up. Dripping jaws erupted another roar, so inhuman it shot chills up the webhead’s spine. Scaly skin glistened in the dim light, and Spider-Man had no doubt there was some kind of toxin slick all over it.
How am I supposed to fight him now? He knows he just has to wear me down…and I can’t keep fighting him in my situation. I’d probably be long dead by now if I didn’t have my costume to guard my mouth and eyes…
As the Lizard’s roar faded into an echo, another sound came to replace it—on the other side of the high wall in front of him and the Lizard. Bright spotlights shined through the windows at the ceiling.
It was a helicopter. There were shadows moving in the spotlights…Spidey couldn’t see too clearly for the light, and the Lizard seemed to be frozen by the machine’s noise.
SPIDER-SENSE~!
“Down!” Spidey grabbed Angela into a crouch, putting his body between her and the wall.
Just in time. Glass and brick exploded inward, engulfing the Lizard, but luckily, only cascading over Spider-Man and Angela. But the smoke was thick and everywhere.
Angela started hacking. Spidey sprayed a wad of webbing into his palm and then put it against Angie’s lips. Angie got the hint, and kept it up to her mouth, to help her breathe.
Beating rotors wailed bringing with them a sudden darkness as the power to the station was now cut out. The night outside flooded through the demolished wall. Ropes were dangling in front of the gap. After a light zipping noise, heavily dressed police officers caught themselves when their heels tapped the ground. The helicopter immediately retreated over the building to parts unknown.
“Curtis Connors! Stay where you are!”
Spider-Man recognized the uniforms now…and the massively huge rifles that were slung over their shoulders.
“You are under the protection of Code: Blue!*” Lieutenant Marcus Stone was still wearing sunglasses in the almost darkness. He held a very large Magnum that glistened even in such weark light. It was pointed right at the Lizard. Without flinching Stone added, “’Cause you need protection from yourself!”
(*-and Code: Blue’s last appearance was…Venom issue six! Go read it! Good stuff!- Bryan)
The Lizard was trying to move under the hill of rubble that had him mostly buried. But Stone kept the gun steady on him and called--
“Fireworks!”
“Yes sir?” One of the other officers behind Stone appeared at his shoulder.
Stone was annoyed. “Don’t just stand there! Shoot this sucker full of that serum! Can’t you see we got him pinned?”
‘Fireworks’ Fielstein visibly shuddered even with all the body armor he had on. “Okay, Stone.” He pulled what looked like some kind of flare gun from his pocket. Shaking his head, he said, “This guy’s a lot bigger in real life.”
Fielstein fired the gun in his hands. The bang was sudden and bright, causing Spidey to jump a little bit, and he felt Angie do the same beside him. The Lizard was now releasing another scream, but this was one was a long, low moan. Spidey saw there was a huge dart in his neck. Spider-Man frowned.
Spidey was still feeling nauseous, and dizzy, but he still had enough to stand and quip, “Hey! This ain’t poaching season!”
The officers suddenly whipped their heads toward Spider-Man and Angela. The way they peered meant they hadn’t seen them for the smoke.
“Who…?” Stone aimed his gun toward the smoke. “Is that…well I’ll be damned, it’s Spider-Man.”
Spidey got right up close to Stone, “Listen up, Elmer Fudd, he’s not an animal. That’s a good man under those scales.”
Stone was stern. “Relax. This serum’ll trigger a reaction to turn him human. It’s standard Code: Blue Hulkbusting equipment.”
“And he’s obviously not the Hulk.”
“Like I care? After what he did to those poor boys?”
Spider-Man looked in the direction Stone was thumbing, and saw the downed police officers. Other Code: Blue officers were looking over them, and shaking their heads.
“He’s just the victim of an accident.” Spidey mumbled. Waves of dizziness were still strong, and he was surprised his knees hadn’t buckled yet…his stomach was cramping…
Stone rolled his eyes. “I’ve actually got a bone to pick with you, web-slinger.”
Spidey tried to shake off his daze. “What? Tips on a better looking uniform?”
Stone frowned, and then aimed his gun again at Spider-Man. “Do you remember the Liberty Island Dozen?* Was that an accident too?”
Spider-Man felt a knot in his stomach, not from his body betraying him, but because he did remember the press’s pet name for the twelve escaped criminals Spidey had an unwitting hand in freeing, during his last skirmish with the Chameleon.*
(*- that would be issue 39- Bryan)
Angela was still right next to Spidey, but until she piped up, the wall-crawler had forgotten she was still there. “What are you doing?” There was a scowl on her lips.
“Code: Blue is placing you under arrest, Spider-Man.” Stone now had the barrel of his gun just inches from Spidey’s face. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Spidey thought for an instant how odd it was his spider-sense didn’t warn him of this…but it was probably because none of Code: Blue truly meant him any harm. They just wanted to take him in.
“Anything you say can and will be held against you—”
Spidey looked from side to side: Code: Blue surrounded him, five cops at five points. Obviously, Peter couldn’t let himself get arrested.
“—in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney—”
“Hey, kiddo?” Spidey whispered to the girl at his side.
“Yeah?” Angela was quick.
“You’re gonna wanna get this.”
THWIP!
“—if you cannot afford an ahhhh sonovabitch!”
Webbing spread over Stone’s face and the veteran officer instinctively aimed his gun at the ceiling. Spidey was already webbing Stone’s feet to the floor. Impact webbing splattered across the chests of the men to Spidey’s left and right, pinning their arms to their sides. Webstreams from his wrists disarmed the officers behind, and in front of him.
Angela Yin got it all.
Spider-Man tilted his head toward her. “Never say I didn’t do anything for you.”
“Okay.” Angela smiled. “You realize Jonah’s gonna crucify you in the morning.”
“Ol’ Sourpuss is the least of my worries.” Spidey said, feeling how sick he still was in his stomach.
Then, he fired another stream of webbing at a high angle against gap in the police station’s wall. Angela grasped his hand, stopping him. Spider-Man faced her.
“When can I see you again?” she smiled at him.
Spidey shook his head and laughed. “Kids these days! Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile.” He tapped his finger against her nose. “The day we see each other again is a day I wished I stayed in bed!”
For some reason, Angela Yin only smiled wider when she heard that. Spider-Man jumped into a swing, and soon enough, he was just a red speck against Manhattan’s glowing nighttime.
Angela laughed as she watched Code: Blue struggle and writhe against their bonds. She looked back to where the Lizard had been buried in rubble…and stopped laughing. Curt Connors was supposed to be lying there, in a daze, unaware of the murders he’d just perpetrated. But there was nothing where the Lizard had been buried, then shot full of anti-serum. Nothing at all.
“Oh no.” she whispered.
NEXT ISSUE: Can Peter think up a good enough excuse to give Betty? Will Angela leave Spidey alone? Where did the Lizard go? What has the Hobgoblin been up to? Will any of these questions be answered next ish? Count on it, tiger!
Betty turned. She felt her thin, laced stilettos tap the floor sharply. There was a bright flash in her eyes, and very quickly, she heard the word, “Cheese!”
“Parker!” Betty blinked a few times to see clearly again, but she still reached out to slug him in the shoulder.
“Hey, hey!” Peter kept the camera to his eyes, and easily avoided Betty’s graze. “I can’t have one little snap of the best looking girl in this whole place?”
Betty let herself smile, and moved a lock of her brown hair behind her ear. Pearl earrings shined in the light. “This is one-night only attire. You better take more than one picture.”
Peter’s mouth was suddenly dry. “As you wish.” He let the lens examine her red dress, past the spaghetti straps, to the draped neckline, along her curves (which the dress clung to with dangerous smoothness), all the way to the flutter hem. He didn’t bother stopping until he saw her black multi-banded stilettos again. The camera flashed more than once at her.
Betty turned on her heels, so that the camera (or Peter?) could have a better look at every inch of her. Peter noticed he wasn’t the only one taking that better look. Tuxedoed gentlemen were all over the room, and Peter had seen every single one take a long look at Betty. Some of the women too, much different looks on their faces.
Peter finally dropped the camera, letting it hang on his neck. “Hold on.” He raised his hands. “I gotta find something to wipe the steam off the lens.”
Betty laughed. “Uh-huh.” She reached at the table near her, and handed Peter a wine flute. She took another for herself. “You didn’t tell me you’d be on time. No wonder you took me by surprise!”
Peter smirked. “Are your feet as quick as your tongue, Miss Brant?” Peter sipped his wine and motioned at the eight member jazz band that was playing in one corner.
Betty’s eyes widened. “Since when did Peter Parker learn to dance?”
Peter looked shocked. “I’m very spry on my feet.” Peter shuffled a little bit. “It makes it easier to sweep unsuspecting ladies off theirs.”
Betty looked him up and down. Then, she put her flute on the trey of another waiter passing-by. “Alright. Show me what you know.”
Peter let her slip her hand into his own, and led her to the section of the wide room that had been reserved for the dancers. They passed tables draped with the widest varieties of foods, from meat, to cakes to caviar. They broke through little bubbles of conversation, interrupting gossip, or self-absorbed bragging. They passed under the wide banner that read, ‘The Stacy Foundation Annual Journalist’s Ball’. Peter turned around when they reached the dancing square, pulling Betty and wrapping his left arm around her hip. He held his right hand up, and Betty slipped her left hand over it.
“You’re not going to start singing, are you?” Betty whispered to him.
Peter shrugged. “I only sing in the shower.”
Betty snorted.
“Just kidding! You know I don’t take showers.”
Betty playfully wrinkled her nose. “Is that what that is?” She pulled back on Peter’s arm. “Maybe I don’t want to get too close.”
Peter pulled her sharply back to him, pressing his hips against hers. “Oops! Too late! Now, follow my—”
A sharp slap on his shoulder derailed any train of thought.
“I don’t believe it!”
Peter winced, not because of the slap. He recognized the voice. He turned around and saw a man just slightly taller, a bit thinner, blonde hair closely cropped on his head, and under his bottom lip.
Paul Stacy asked, “May I cut in?”
Peter for a precious second could only stare at Paul. The last time he’d seen Paul Stacy, the man had overdosed on heroin*. The last time Peter had seen Paul Stacy…Jill Stacy was still alive**.
(*-that would be the seminal issue 25, **- Mike took Jill with him into the sunset in his last ish, #30- Bryan)
“It’s my party, after all.” Paul’s smile was unblemished.
Peter blinked quickly, and tried to answer, and, in his shock, dropped Betty’s hands. He didn’t realize his mistake until too late. Paul turned his smile on Betty.
“Enchanted.” Paul wrapped his arm around Betty’s waist, and took her hand.
“Mister Stacy.” Betty sounded hesitant. “You throw a lovely party.”
“Thank you. I hope Peter told you how far back we go.” The smile aimed at Peter now. “I hope he’s told you how many times he’s ignored my VIP invitations.”
Peter felt his face flush red. Betty looked at Peter with a frown, settling herself in for a dance with Paul Stacy, but she quickly smiled when she looked back at Paul. As Paul started to twist away with Peter’s date, Peter heard Paul say quickly:
“Don’t go anywhere, Pete! We’ve got so much to talk about!”
Peter took in a breath and watched them go. What…just happened?
“You should try to shrimp cocktails. They’re scandalous.”
Peter visibly jumped as the nasal voice spoke up behind him. Ben Urich patted him on the back.
“Easy, cowboy.” A small glass with more ice cubes in it than brown liquid was settled his hand. Ben shook it around lamely. “She’s going to hate you for making her do that. She had to endure fifteen minutes of that guy before you showed up. Jonah was making us schmooze up to him.”
Peter wiped his brow. “Don’t worry. I hate myself enough already for that.” He smiled a bit. “I’m glad you’re okay. I…heard about that explosion you were in.*” He grabbed a shrimp cocktail from the plate in Ben’s other hand and downed it quickly.
(* - issue 42 – Bryan)
Ben rubbed his neck. “Eh, I’ve had worse. It’s Angela I was really worried about.”
Peter cringed and looked around, wondering if the nosy photographer was around to harass him again*. Peter Parker wasn’t exactly high on her list of friendly people, even if Spider-Man was. He sighed and munched another shrimp cocktail.
(*- Angela and Peter had a rather heated exchange in the Annual 2007- Bryan)
“Don’t worry.” Ben caught him. “Jonah’s got her covering softer stuff for a while. She’s at the Connors transfer tonight.”
Peter eased slightly. Then, he looked around again. He spied J. Jonah Jameson schmoozing close to a tall stage. The mayor of New York just happened to be talking in the same circle. Peter chuckled. The only time I ever see Jonah smile is when he fakes it. I hope he’s well, after what he had to endure from the Foolkiller*. He tipped me off about him, but I haven’t seen anything more in recent weeks**.
(*-issue 38, **-this means Spidey hasn’t checked out Max2000 issue 21!- Bryan)
“Just the man I wanted to see.”
Peter sighed. How many times were people going to sneak up on him tonight? He turned around once more and saw Joe “Robbie” Robertson. He was looking sharp in his tuxedo, and his wine flute in his hands. But his face was grave.
“Peter,” Robbie stuck out his wine-less hand for Peter to shake. Peter did, and Robbie continued, “You look well. You didn’t the last time I saw you.* I was worried.”
(*- again, the ASM annual 2007- Bryan)
Peter tried to chuckle it off. “Well, your son certainly doesn’t help the stress level. You know what I mean…”
Robbie seemed confused. “You’ve seen Randy?”
Peter nodded. “Yeah! You bet I have—erm, I mean, you haven’t?”
Robbie shook his head. “No. I haven’t seen Randy in months.”
Peter tried to not look bothered by that bit of news. He was going to pry a bit farther, but that’s when the jazz band stopped playing. Peter’s eyes flashed back to the dance square.
Paul Stacy was already coming over to him, leading Betty through the crowds of men and women usually much older than the three of them.
“Peter!” Paul laughed as he joined in with Robbie and Ben. “I won’t steal your date any longer.”
Peter smirked. “Gracious, Paul. That’s you to the core. Always has been.”
Betty was quickly back to Peter from Paul’s side. A pain shot through Peter’s ribcage and he had to keep from screaming—Betty pinched him very, very hard. She pulled him down to whisper in his ear, and cleverly picked up two wine flutes at the same time: “If you ever do that to me again, Parker, I’ll break both your arms.”
She handed him a wine flute.
Peter took it, biting his lip as he stood up fully. Paul was just getting done reacquainting hands with Robbie and Ben. Suddenly, Ben seemed jostled, but pulled a cell phone from his jacket. Looking at the ID, he excused himself.
Paul looked back at Peter. “So, Pete. You’re the last guy I ever thought I’d see here. What have you been doing with yourself?”
Don’t act weird, don’t act weird, you are cool as the other side of pillow, tiger…Peter shrugged. “School, but mostly my daughter’s been keeping most of my time.”
“Little May.” Paul nodded. “This is the same little baby rescued from my sister’s killers, right? A sweet little daughter that—ha!—none of us knew you had.”
Peter froze, dimly aware of the thundering that had started in his chest. He felt Betty grip him a little tighter around the arm. When he looked at her, a soft smile helped his composure. Suddenly, Robbie’s cell phone rang. Robbie patted himself and then remembered which pocket he put it in.
Peter sipped at his wine and said, “I was lucky, Paul.”
“That ol’ Parker luck!” Paul laughed. “Heard that one before.” He swilled deeply at the wine in his hand.
“But what about you?” Peter tried to ease into a different subject. “Do you spend all your time throwing parties for your family’s charity?”
Paul let out a guffaw—“HA!”—but then looked serious. “No, I’m actually working as a lab assistant at ESU’s science department. Didn’t you try doing the same thing once or twice? You’d like what we’re experimenting with now.”
Peter heard more cell phones starting to ring. Even Betty was thrown from his side by a sudden noise emanating from her purse. Peter watched her rifle through the bag to find it, and then saw that many other women at this Journalist’s Ball were doing the exact same thing. The men were looking through their jackets, pulling cells as well.
Peter frowned. Something’s got all the reporters spooked…
Paul Stacy was still talking, but Peter was hardly listening anymore. “We’re working with a variant of the Connors formula…”
Peter was looking at Betty. Pressing her phone against her shoulder, she whispered to him: “Something’s going on down at North Midtown. I’m going to make a few calls…”
Peter felt his stomach sink. The police station at North Midtown was one of the only ones in New York City equipped with enough technology to adequately imprison a superhuman. It was currently where Curt Connors was being held.
Wait…what was Paul talking about?
Peter looked back at Paul. “What did you say?”
Paul grinned wide. “The Connors formula. There was one left after that messy incident with Doctor Wiles. It’s still university property, and we get to play around with it. Fascinating stuff. Right now, we’re experimenting on lizards.”
The room was absolutely abuzz now. Journalists were rushing to the sides of other journalists, hoping to get rides to 53rd Street. Some were getting on the line with photographer friends, hoping to get one of them down there to see something, anything.
Paul and Peter were standing not two feet from each other. Nobody paid them any mind at all.
“What have you done, Paul?” Peter said, not afraid to say what he wanted.
Paul smirked, and drank at more of the wine. “It’s just an experiment, Peter. You should see how dangerous lizards can get. But then again, some would argue that mindless beasts will act mindless, even if given a placebo…”
Peter felt his fist clinching. Paul was still smiling. Then, Paul turned his back on him. “I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you do best. Tell the wall-crawler I said ‘hi’. I have a funny feeling you’ll see him later.”
Peter didn’t waste any time. He looked back at Betty.
She wasn’t looking at him, even had her back turned to him a little. She yelled into her phone, “Yeah, you’ve heard about what’s going down at 53rd? Because I know you can at least get me photos, that’s why—how am I supposed to get there? I’m in TriBeCa tonight, Richie, remember? Huh? I’m just with a friend, an old friend that I’ve worked with for long—” and that’s when Betty suddenly felt a familiar sinking in her stomach.
Betty did a 360 on her heels, already expecting what came. Peter had disappeared.
She forgot about her phone. “Dammit, Parker…”
“Are you crazy?”
Angela Yin poked her head around the corner, peering down a long hallway. She looked quickly down the other direction. Then she looked behind her, at Sally Floyd.
Angela didn’t usually work with Sally, though they had in conjunction with Ben Urich at certain times. Sally was an alcoholic. Angela didn’t usually respect alcoholics, and neither did J. Jonah Jameson, which was why Sally was being punished with such assignments like a prison transfer of a has-been super-villain. But Angela still thought Sally was pretty cool. Her haircut was hot and butch, and she always looked like a badass Bridget Fonda whenever she smoked a cigarette.
“Come on, Sally.” Angela laughed. “You know you wanna.”
Sally peered down the hallways in the same way Angela did earlier. She sighed, and said, “Of course I do but…” She hung her head, disappointed. “I’ve got a little girl to take care of. I cannot die tonight. She’s staying with my ex-husband.”
Angela laughed. “Okay. Then it’s up to you to tell everyone you know how cool I was before I died.”
Sally laughed and said, “Deal.” She pulled Angela into a quick hug. “Be careful, honey.” Then Sally darted like a rocket across the several yards of tile separating the two from the entrance to the police station behind them.
Now, Angela was sure she was the only thing left in this building. Well, the only one besides, you know, the freakin’ Lizard. All the cops had dashed like crazy out of the precinct house. Code: BLUE was apparently on their way, but in New York traffic? Angela heard they were coming all the way from Staten Island…didn’t they have a helicopter?
Angela took another step. She had waited with Sally outside for what felt like hours (but was probably only fifteen minutes) and then she decided that this was her only course of action. Money from these photos would probably pay her shelter and food for the next eight weeks! True it was just Curt Connors—a poor man’s Bruce Banner, but from how fast those cops were running, maybe Angela would get lucky and see a real monster.
Another turn, Angela slowly angled her head in that direction…all clear. Angela absently thumbed at her camera. For a police station, it was pretty ordinary. That’s probably because it was so old. It had the look of something that was trying to be a bit more majestic than it had any right to be. Outside, it was pretty simple (nothing to offend anyone) and on the inside the walls and tiles were the same shade of bland. Chairs with ripped cushions lined the walls. Wide, clear glass separated the working officers from the perps, or the citizens. The precinct house was a pretty big building, so the Lizard could have been anywhere on the many floors…
But it was still too quiet for Angela’s stomach to stop turning.
Angela couldn’t take it. “Come here, Lizzy, Lizzy…heh, Thin Lizzy…guess who just got back today?” She peered through the empty rooms behind the glass. “Them wild-eyed boys that had been away…” Angela spied all the cop equipment inside the standard ‘booking’ area (she didn’t know what that room was called—the Bookery?). “Haven’t changed, had much to say…” She hummed and looked back down the hallway. “But you know I think them cats is crazy…” There was another turn up ahead.
“The boys are back in tow-ow-owwn…yeah, the boys are back in town…” She nervously poked her head around another corner.
She stopped singing. She pulled her neck back. She took deep breaths. One quick look down at the camera and…
Angela looked back down the hallway. She stared, then brought the camera up to her eye, and after another quick second, she pressed the small button at the camera’s top.
Luckily, the Lizard didn’t hear the shutter click.
But Angela had got it all: there was blood seeping closer and closer to her, spreading over white tiles from the prone bodies of two faceless policemen. The Lizard was hunching over them both as if studying their bodies. There was a wide fin from the base of spine, getting taller then smaller on its way to his neck. Every so often, his skin color would fade in and out of different shades of green and black.
Angela pressed the button again, then again, and again. Then, she whipped back down the hallway behind her. Then, she exhaled.
She had to get more than this. Maybe if she was quiet enough, she could follow the Lizard farther into the police station, maybe get shots of the faces of those policemen…
Angela took another breath, and then she looked down the hallway again.
She saw herself, wide-eyed, reflected in yellow, pointed fangs. Wet jaws opened and a long, narrow tongue slithered, whipped at her, coming mere inches from her face. The Lizard’s breath was cold against her face. Bulbous, glowing eyes blinked.
“Prrrrtttt-eeee Grrrrlllll…” was the sound that leaked from warped vocal chords.
“Awww that’s so cuuute!” this was a new voice.
The Lizard spun on its heel, still keeping a claw aimed at Angela, but recognized the red and blue figure behind him.
Spider-Man stood there with his arms crossed. “Does Lizzy got a crush?”
“Sssssppyyyyydddrrrrrr…” it was long, and low.
Spidey cocked his head. “A crush on me? Oh shucks, Lizzy, you’re nice and all, but I’m a Leo, and we don’t dig scales and all that cold-blooded…ness.” He raised his fist at the Lizard, then said, “Now run toward my knuckles!”
The Lizard obliged. He’d forgotten about Angela, and he dived at Spider-Man, claws first, jaws snapping.
But Spider-Man was already up in the air. One quick jump, bounce off the Lizard’s snout, send him hard into the tile, then flip down in front of Angela and say something funny like--
“You know the best angle to shoot a seven-foot ravenous monster?” Spidey landed right in front of her, pointing his finger at Angela’s camera.
Angela seemed a bit stunned but answered quickly, thumbing her lens. “Where?”
Spidey grabbed her arm, spun her around, and pushed her down the perpendicular hallway. “One-hundred eighty degrees in the other direction! And running!”
Angela stopped herself. “No way! I can take care of my—”
SPIDER-SENSE~!
“Leaping lizards!” Spidey said, spinning around to catch the…leaping Lizard.
They flew backward in a tackle, going through a reinforced glass window, with the Lizard breaking some of the brick wall into chunks. Hitting and bouncing off a metal office desk, they broke free of each other.
“Does my insurance cover leaping lizards?” Spidey shook off the daze.
The Lizard had not landed far. Spider-Man didn’t need his--
SPIDER-SENSE~!
—to know what was coming. He did what felt natural: he jumped, and landed in a crouched position, upside-down on the ceiling. And watched the Lizard sail through the air under him. The wide fin on the Lizard’s back scraped at Spidey’s nose.
But the Lizard’s thick tail smacked Spider-Man like a plank, right under the chin.
Spidey hacked, felt his world spin, then go black for an instant when he hit white tile. His vision hadn’t returned for three seconds when he felt something cold and heavy pin him at his wrists, then a crushing weight at his gut.
When his vision was finally cleared of purple spots, Spidey saw yellow, gnashing teeth. A long, winding tongue whipped like a serpent itself.
“Eww!” Spidey said, “Do you use tongue on all your dance partners?”
Pushing his knees upward together, Spider-Man flipped the Lizard off of him, and then through what was left of the wall they had already toppled through. The Lizard tumbled right past Angela Yin, who was standing with her camera to her eye, her finger easing off the button. Spider-Man was up quickly, jumped over some rubble to get to her.
“If there’s no one around to hear your one and two-liners,” Angela seemed curious, “do you still talk like that?”
Spidey grabbed her arm and, pulling, said, “You heard it.” He yanked her back toward the hallway leading to the exit.
“Yeah.” Angela shook him off. “But if I wasn’t here…you’d still talk to yourself, wouldn’t you?” Angela raised her camera and flashed a shot right in Spidey’s face. She was smiling when she lowered the camera. “I don’t know whether I should find that cute or crazy.”
“I’m having that same problem with your very presence in front of me.” Spider-Man tapped his foot impatiently. Spidey suddenly felt a wave of dizziness, then noticed how much he had been sweating. So much so, his costume was sticking to his body
But he saw Angela responding by shaking her head. She said, “I’m not a damsel in distress. And there’s a Lizard behind you.”
SPIDER-SENSE~!
Spider-Man tried to jump but the Lizard tackled him once again, taking him to the tile, sliding through several chucks of glass and debris. When they slid to a stop, the Lizard’s clawed hands were tight around his throat. Spidey’s own hands weren’t enough to pry them away. The Lizard’s legs were crushing his stomach, making it impossible to catch his breath.
Angela Yin appeared over the Lizard’s shoulder, and clicked another flash.
It was eerily quiet. Even the Lizard had calmed his hissing, if only to focus on the murder he was committing. The web-slinger couldn’t even struggle in the debris, he was pinned so tightly. But Spider-Man managed to squeak, “Rrrrrockkk…pleeessss…” Angela realized he was talking to her. His hand was pointing at Angie’s feet.
Angela looked down, then at Spider-Man, then heaved the nice chunk of wall into Spidey’s hand. Spider-Man subsequently clobbered the Lizard across the temple with it. The Lizard caved to the side, and Spidey, gasping, helped him that way with a punch.
Spidey rubbed at his neck and wheezed, “Just how much money are you getting for putting my near strangulation on the front page?”
“Ouch.” Angie said. “Be nice. I just saved your life.”
Spider-Man suddenly fell to his knees. “Whoa.” Spidey mumbled. His eyes were seeing spots, and the dizziness was getting stronger. The room was so hot…What’s going on here? I feel so sick all of a sudden…what’s happened? Was it the Lizard? Dread crept into his mind. He has poisoned me before after all…
SPIDER-SENSE~!
Spidey jumped up to a crouch to see the Lizard was back up. Dripping jaws erupted another roar, so inhuman it shot chills up the webhead’s spine. Scaly skin glistened in the dim light, and Spider-Man had no doubt there was some kind of toxin slick all over it.
How am I supposed to fight him now? He knows he just has to wear me down…and I can’t keep fighting him in my situation. I’d probably be long dead by now if I didn’t have my costume to guard my mouth and eyes…
As the Lizard’s roar faded into an echo, another sound came to replace it—on the other side of the high wall in front of him and the Lizard. Bright spotlights shined through the windows at the ceiling.
It was a helicopter. There were shadows moving in the spotlights…Spidey couldn’t see too clearly for the light, and the Lizard seemed to be frozen by the machine’s noise.
SPIDER-SENSE~!
“Down!” Spidey grabbed Angela into a crouch, putting his body between her and the wall.
Just in time. Glass and brick exploded inward, engulfing the Lizard, but luckily, only cascading over Spider-Man and Angela. But the smoke was thick and everywhere.
Angela started hacking. Spidey sprayed a wad of webbing into his palm and then put it against Angie’s lips. Angie got the hint, and kept it up to her mouth, to help her breathe.
Beating rotors wailed bringing with them a sudden darkness as the power to the station was now cut out. The night outside flooded through the demolished wall. Ropes were dangling in front of the gap. After a light zipping noise, heavily dressed police officers caught themselves when their heels tapped the ground. The helicopter immediately retreated over the building to parts unknown.
“Curtis Connors! Stay where you are!”
Spider-Man recognized the uniforms now…and the massively huge rifles that were slung over their shoulders.
“You are under the protection of Code: Blue!*” Lieutenant Marcus Stone was still wearing sunglasses in the almost darkness. He held a very large Magnum that glistened even in such weark light. It was pointed right at the Lizard. Without flinching Stone added, “’Cause you need protection from yourself!”
(*-and Code: Blue’s last appearance was…Venom issue six! Go read it! Good stuff!- Bryan)
The Lizard was trying to move under the hill of rubble that had him mostly buried. But Stone kept the gun steady on him and called--
“Fireworks!”
“Yes sir?” One of the other officers behind Stone appeared at his shoulder.
Stone was annoyed. “Don’t just stand there! Shoot this sucker full of that serum! Can’t you see we got him pinned?”
‘Fireworks’ Fielstein visibly shuddered even with all the body armor he had on. “Okay, Stone.” He pulled what looked like some kind of flare gun from his pocket. Shaking his head, he said, “This guy’s a lot bigger in real life.”
Fielstein fired the gun in his hands. The bang was sudden and bright, causing Spidey to jump a little bit, and he felt Angie do the same beside him. The Lizard was now releasing another scream, but this was one was a long, low moan. Spidey saw there was a huge dart in his neck. Spider-Man frowned.
Spidey was still feeling nauseous, and dizzy, but he still had enough to stand and quip, “Hey! This ain’t poaching season!”
The officers suddenly whipped their heads toward Spider-Man and Angela. The way they peered meant they hadn’t seen them for the smoke.
“Who…?” Stone aimed his gun toward the smoke. “Is that…well I’ll be damned, it’s Spider-Man.”
Spidey got right up close to Stone, “Listen up, Elmer Fudd, he’s not an animal. That’s a good man under those scales.”
Stone was stern. “Relax. This serum’ll trigger a reaction to turn him human. It’s standard Code: Blue Hulkbusting equipment.”
“And he’s obviously not the Hulk.”
“Like I care? After what he did to those poor boys?”
Spider-Man looked in the direction Stone was thumbing, and saw the downed police officers. Other Code: Blue officers were looking over them, and shaking their heads.
“He’s just the victim of an accident.” Spidey mumbled. Waves of dizziness were still strong, and he was surprised his knees hadn’t buckled yet…his stomach was cramping…
Stone rolled his eyes. “I’ve actually got a bone to pick with you, web-slinger.”
Spidey tried to shake off his daze. “What? Tips on a better looking uniform?”
Stone frowned, and then aimed his gun again at Spider-Man. “Do you remember the Liberty Island Dozen?* Was that an accident too?”
Spider-Man felt a knot in his stomach, not from his body betraying him, but because he did remember the press’s pet name for the twelve escaped criminals Spidey had an unwitting hand in freeing, during his last skirmish with the Chameleon.*
(*- that would be issue 39- Bryan)
Angela was still right next to Spidey, but until she piped up, the wall-crawler had forgotten she was still there. “What are you doing?” There was a scowl on her lips.
“Code: Blue is placing you under arrest, Spider-Man.” Stone now had the barrel of his gun just inches from Spidey’s face. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Spidey thought for an instant how odd it was his spider-sense didn’t warn him of this…but it was probably because none of Code: Blue truly meant him any harm. They just wanted to take him in.
“Anything you say can and will be held against you—”
Spidey looked from side to side: Code: Blue surrounded him, five cops at five points. Obviously, Peter couldn’t let himself get arrested.
“—in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney—”
“Hey, kiddo?” Spidey whispered to the girl at his side.
“Yeah?” Angela was quick.
“You’re gonna wanna get this.”
THWIP!
“—if you cannot afford an ahhhh sonovabitch!”
Webbing spread over Stone’s face and the veteran officer instinctively aimed his gun at the ceiling. Spidey was already webbing Stone’s feet to the floor. Impact webbing splattered across the chests of the men to Spidey’s left and right, pinning their arms to their sides. Webstreams from his wrists disarmed the officers behind, and in front of him.
Angela Yin got it all.
Spider-Man tilted his head toward her. “Never say I didn’t do anything for you.”
“Okay.” Angela smiled. “You realize Jonah’s gonna crucify you in the morning.”
“Ol’ Sourpuss is the least of my worries.” Spidey said, feeling how sick he still was in his stomach.
Then, he fired another stream of webbing at a high angle against gap in the police station’s wall. Angela grasped his hand, stopping him. Spider-Man faced her.
“When can I see you again?” she smiled at him.
Spidey shook his head and laughed. “Kids these days! Give ‘em an inch and they take a mile.” He tapped his finger against her nose. “The day we see each other again is a day I wished I stayed in bed!”
For some reason, Angela Yin only smiled wider when she heard that. Spider-Man jumped into a swing, and soon enough, he was just a red speck against Manhattan’s glowing nighttime.
Angela laughed as she watched Code: Blue struggle and writhe against their bonds. She looked back to where the Lizard had been buried in rubble…and stopped laughing. Curt Connors was supposed to be lying there, in a daze, unaware of the murders he’d just perpetrated. But there was nothing where the Lizard had been buried, then shot full of anti-serum. Nothing at all.
“Oh no.” she whispered.
NEXT ISSUE: Can Peter think up a good enough excuse to give Betty? Will Angela leave Spidey alone? Where did the Lizard go? What has the Hobgoblin been up to? Will any of these questions be answered next ish? Count on it, tiger!