Issue #3 by Jake Hawkins
Nov 2023 Peter Parker
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Peter looked down at the street below him with one arm still around Gwen’s waist. His eyes were glued to the aftermath of the car chase that nearly took the pair of budding high school students out for good. Peter and Gwen finally looked at each other, both still unable to understand what had transpired in the last sixty seconds. Much to both their embarrassment, Peter finally realized that he was still clutching Gwen as tightly as he could and that they were nearly chest to chest.
He quickly broke away from her atop the fire escape and stared down at the pair of hand-me-down Penny Hardaway 1s his Uncle Ben had given him last summer. Peter’s brain worked overtime as he was mystified with his hands and feet trying to figure out how he managed to land them both some fifteen feet into the air. I don’t remember, at least I don’t think I remember, freaking out when that spider bit me. I remember the entire world spinning like I became the Tasmanian devil, and feeling like I was going to vomit up my spleen. But this, yeah I think if I vomit it's going to be from the full-blown spaz attack I seem to be suffering from as we speak. Peter finally looked up at Gwen, who had taken her glasses off in an almost comical attempt to see him better for some reason. I totally freaked Gwen out. And the funniest part of it all(if there is one in the first place), I’m not entirely sure which part freaked her out more; The leap of faith or my Paul Atreides impression with my hand around her. Gwen managed to shake herself from the apparent state of shock she was in after the ordeal they survived. She rushed to the edge of the fire escape and teetered the top half of her body over the railing, watching as the cops pulled the men inside the crashed vehicle out. She took a long, deep breath. “I swear I hope my dad never finds out I said this but,” She finally looked at Peter, completely confused and excited by what his body had just managed to do. “What the %$^& did you just do?!” Peter stammered uncontrollably, looking between his hands and feet then back to Gwen. Completely dumbfounded and not wanting to continue to look like a moron, Peter shrugged with a very non-confident smile. “Maybe my legs were feeling extra rubbery after doing, like, nothing for the better part of two weeks?” Gwen cocked her head to the side at the notion Peter came up with. “Peter, you just jumped over 8 feet into the air. I don’t even think I’ve seen my dad do that the last time he saw a rat on the streets.” Peter was thankful that Gwen gave him the mental image of her boulder-shaped, golden-age-era bodybuilder framed dad squealing at the sight of a city rat. The idea was enough to ease some of the anxiety eating its way through his chest. They both peered back down over the fire escape and watched the men get placed into the back of separate squad cars. “Alright, I suggest we have Uncle Ben just order delivery when we get back. May will freak if she knows we were over here when this went down.” “Or the fact that you pulled a Lebron to get us out of turning into street paste.” Gwen responded rather calmly considering the previous events. She hoisted a leg over the side railing and climbed down the fire escape. Peter followed after her warily, carefully eyeing the street below as he went down. He just remembered as he climbed down how much he wasn’t the biggest fan of heights. What instincts drove him to make that leap? “Well, and here’s a suggestion I’m just spitballing here, how about we leave that part out?” Pete advised once both their sneakers hit the pavement again. Gwen teased his worries further, which only eased Peter’s anxiety about the ordeal. “Aw, you’re just no fun. I’m sure she would be thrilled at the idea of you being Flash’s number-one wide receiver at BVA.” They headed up the street, away from the crime scene that New York’s finest were trying to clear up. “How did you…you moved before any of them rounded the corner..” Gwen surmised, still trying to get a sense of how Peter had saved their lives. Peter shrugged and decided to focus on his nikes as they walked, not really understanding what alerted him to the imminent danger.” I..don’t think I can honestly describe any of that without sounding like a total lunatic.” Total lunatic I think is more than likely the understatement of the 21st century, but it will have to suffice. I don’t believe I’ll ever be able to find the best way to explain to Gwen that my head started ringing like Josie’s on St. Patty’s Day before that car whipped around the corner. It’s like my whole body went into a hyper state of fight or flight. Heck, every goosebump still feels like it's ready to explode off my skin. First me not needing my glasses, then this. I don’t want to consider what could be the reasoning. I’ve got enough to worry about just entering high school. Gwen frowned, she could see the trouble Peter was struggling with and didn’t want to continue to treat him like some kind of science experiment gone wrong. “Well, whatever it was that made you do it, trust me, I’m glad you did.” Peter smiled, Gwen’s pearly white cheesing grin almost infectious as it spread across his mood. Their moment of understanding was quickly quashed once they realized they had reached the strip mall where they had left May. Peter’s aunt was to neither of their surprise, pacing in front of Bab’s Furniture discount store where they had left her. Her always sharp eyes locked on to the pair of them both heading towards her, each doing their best to look as innocent as they could. They knew the effort was not going to spare them from the earful May was about to reign down upon them both. “Where on god’s green earth did the pair of you run off to?” May demanded to know in a tone she only used when her worrying had reached near its peak. Gwen knew full well how much Peter wasn’t very adept at overcoming the pitfalls of rule-breaking. Before he could try to stammer through a flimsy excuse, Gwen took the initiative to explain. “It was my fault, Mrs. Parker. I was hankering for a slice of my favorite pizza so I dragged us both a few blocks over.” “Please tell me you weren’t anywhere near those sirens I heard blazing past here,” May asked, her eyes on her nephew foremost. She knew he would cave before lying to her, but Gwen saw through her tactic and kept the conversation going between the two of them, “Not at all!” Gwen replied with a bit of a twinkle in her green eyes, one she knew May would be the one caving for. “I know the two of you are growing up but I can’t help but fall into old habits.” May shook her head, realizing maybe she was overreacting to the pair of teens ditching her inside of the furniture store. “Anyway, how about we just have Ben order us a couple of pies?” “My thinking exactly, Aunt May.” Peter finally chimed in as they headed towards the subway. # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # A reddish-haired, freckle-faced young man, sat on a bench outside of a door that led to the dean of admissions office. He rolled his eyes at the conversation he could hear vaguely from his side of the door. He straightened up on the spot and smoothed out the freshly tailored suit his father had made for him the moment they flew back into New York that morning and did his best to stay awake. Harry was jet-lagged, something he didn’t think too many kids his age had the frequent experience of being. His father would tell him to appreciate his privileges. He would wax on and on for hours during flights on the private jet about how he built all of this brick by brick for Harry, how his father never handed him anything. However annoyed and tired Harry was, he wasn’t so tired that he didn’t take note of the irony in his father’s speeches. That very same irony drew the smallest of smirks from the heir to the Osborn empire as he listened to his father promise a gross amount of money to the school’s science department. Harry’s grades in middle school were the kind you got when your allowance was big enough to pay the kid obsessed with Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure in class to do it. Any test he’d ever taken was proof that he surely didn’t belong inside Brooklyn Visions. His father nevertheless, made sure that his last name was proof enough of the opposite. The door swung open to the dean’s office, pulling Harry away from his surly smug attitude as he shifted to the persona he usually reserved for when out in public alongside his father. Norman Osborn gave the dean a smile fit for the devil himself as they shook hands feverishly. “Norman I cannot tell you how excited we are for this coming fall and to have your pride and joy join us for this school year.” Dean Pelton beamed at Harry from behind his thick hornrimmed glasses. Harry didn’t dare return the smile with the annoyed air he wanted to, instead, he played his role as he’d been taught to for far too long, that of the ever-perfect prodigal son. Norman clasped a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder, something he usually reserved for corporate retreat getaways when he was in full-on “doting dad” character. “Well, you’re building the future here at Brooklyn Visions. And there is no brighter future than the one my son will be a part of building.” Norman responded proudly. Harry could only wonder what member of his PR department fed him that line. “Mrs. Langinham will get Harry his orientation and rooming packet on your way out.” The dean informed Norman as they started to leave the office. # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Once they were back inside the relative comfort of the Oscorp corporate limo, Harry welled up the courage finally to cut the silence between his father and himself. “You know Dad, Nasir High School is only ten minutes from Mom’s.” Harry wasn’t sure if he should be proud of his strategy to provoke a reaction from his father, or disappointed that the mention of his mother elicited the one it did from Norman. Norman cut his eyes away from the data he was looking at on his laptop to stare directly at his son. He slowly put the device aside, giving his son the attention he figured he clearly sought. “Really? Is that right?” Norman flexed his jaw as he answered. Wary, but not willing to sacrifice this rare moment to make his voice heard, Harry continued. “I mean I just think I’d feel more comfortable in a place I can blend in a bit. I won’t even need one of your people to drop me off every morning. I can just take the train over to Mom’s and walk from there.” Norman let out a dry chuckle although he was far from amused at the suggestion his only son had put forth. “Let me explain something to you, Harry. Something I’ve tried explaining to your mother on several occasions but she can’t seem to get it through her skull so maybe you can succeed where she failed. Though honestly, I doubt it.” Harry shrunk back in his seat, realizing his strategy had backfired worse than he realized. “Dad, I just want to have a normal life. Private prep school is every bit the opposite. I didn’t mean-” “I KNOW what you meant, Harry.” Norman cut him off before he could continue explaining. “You want to be mediocre. Hell, you crave it.” He straightened his tie as he stared at Harry, his anger almost beginning to boil over. “And you know what son? That would be fine if you were anyone else on this planet. But you’re not. You’re an Osborn.” Harry didn’t dare say a word, instead, he bowed his head after his father finished his stern speech that quashed his notion of not attending Brooklyn Visions. After another fifteen minutes of silence, the limousine finally reached the Manhattan highrise condo that belonged to Norman Osborn, his favorite place to stay when in the city. The moment they stepped off the elevator directly into their home, Norman’s chief assistant, Natalie Leeds, rushed over to the head of Oscorp. Harry already assumed she had at least fifteen things he was going to prioritize over looking at the orientation packet in his hands with him. He shuffled off towards his bedroom, ignoring the beautiful smells wafting from the kitchen even though he hadn’t eaten since before they boarded the plane. Harry closed the door to his room as quietly as he could. He was careful to make sure he stayed off his father’s radar for the remainder of the evening, feeling like their exchange in the car and his snide remarks around his mother were enough for one day. He slid one of the panels on the wall next to his door upwards, illuminating the room in a soft orange light that came from an array of fixtures attached to each wall. Harry tossed the packet onto his queen-sized bed before wandering over to the fish tank that was lined inside with glow-in-the-dark figurines. He sprinkled a bit of chow for the exotic fish that he kept inside the massive, custom-built tank. He watched it dribble through the water, the fish eagerly gobbling it up. He turned around and fell face forward onto his bed, the orientation packet in front of him. With a resigned sigh, he snatched it as he sat upright and kicked his shoes off. He flipped open the packet while making himself as comfortable as he could, trying to ignore his softly growling stomach. As Harry read through the orientation guidebook, he scowled at a particular event listed during the first week for Freshman. “Roommate assignments?” Harry mouthed out loud to himself with an air of outright disgust. “Well, that’s cool. I can’t be normal because I’m an Osborn. But I’m normal enough he couldn’t make sure I at least got a private room.” Harry tossed the packet across the room where it landed on the floor after thumping against the opposite wall. # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Later that evening, a box of half-eaten pizza lays open in the middle of Peter’s bed. Sitting cross-legged in front of it is Gwen, while Peter sits in his gaming/computer chair. Peter sighed and tossed away his PlayStation controller, letting it land next to the pizza box. Gwen looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re still freaking out about your leap of faith? It was a rush of adrenaline, Pete. You’re going to have to let that moment of glory go.” Gwen poked fun at him, trying to brighten his demeanor again. Peter, however, wasn’t so much upset as he was conflicted about the train of thoughts chugging along in his head since the incident Peter got out of his chair, much to Gwen’s confusion. He turned to face her and folded his arms as he finally came to at least one conclusion. “So, I kind of think there may be more to it than that.” Peter’s chagrined revelation caused the look of confusion on Gwen’s face to continue. “What are you talking about?” Gwen questioned as she was eager to get to the bottom of the mood he’d been in since. “Have you ever wondered, or like do you ever remember me telling you what my dad did at Oscorp?” Peter asked in return. He watched as she sat in thought for a brief moment before answering, recalling all their years as friends since meeting in third grade. “I mean...I knew...well know he has doctorates in biology and chemistry, but if you’re asking me if I ever knew like…what he worked on for Oscorp-” A startling dawn of realization washed over Gwen. “Huh. That’s weird. You’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t I know or even ask that?” Peter pointed two fingers at Gwen, a sign they were actually on the same page. “Right? But if you think that’s weird, imagine being his son and never having a clue myself.” Gwen shook her head, still unable to understand where Peter was going with this. “I mean since your mom died it's not like any of us saw much of him before your accident, Pete. I mean he wasn’t even at the-” “Ceremony. Yeah. That’s why I ended up at Oscorp that night in the first place.” Peter turned around and pulled open the bottom drawer of his computer table. He lifted the false bottom of the drawer and pulled out the USB drive hidden inside. “I wanted to tell my dad all about the award ceremony, and the scholarship. Of course, he was in a big meeting or whatever, so while I was waiting for him I may or may not have run that decryption protocol you helped me develop last year on Oscorp’s private servers.” Gwen’s jaw dropped which was a milder reaction than Peter was expecting so far. Of course, there was far more to the theory he was piecing together that he needed to show her. He plugged the drive into his computer and pushed his bedroom door closed a hair more, right after peering into the hallway to be sure it was clear of his aunt and uncle. He turned around to see Gwen off the bed and now in his chair, browsing through the data he’d sifted from his father’s computer. Peter said nothing, watching the information on the trio of monitors reflect on Gwen’s glasses. “Your father had been working on this research for years, him and your mother.” Gwen realized as she poured through the thousands of pages of data. “Their first live subjects started around the time your mom got sick.” Peter hung his head as emotions ran their due course. He closed his eyes, finally so close to understanding why his father behaved the way he did. “He was trying to save her life. And I’m not really sure how but I think one of their subjects-” Gwen whirled around in the computer chair and interrupted Peter. “It had to be the spider that bit you. It wasn’t the venom that knocked you out, it had to be the radiation.” Gwen concluded. She smacked her palm to the front of her forehead and stared up at her friend. “So theoretically, you could leap like that again.” Peter looked up at her with a hand on the back of his neck. “Theoretically? Maybe. Yes. And I thought that could mean other things could be possible. Which led to the testing of some theories.” Gwen looked at him with a peculiar stare. “What theories are you talking about?” Peter walked away from her at the sound of the question. He paced slowly around the room till he stopped next to his closet. He looked at the wall next to him, then back to Gwen. “Well theories that led me to discovering the following.” He turned to face the wall and took a deep breath. Focusing on his hands, he placed both palms flat against the wall and slowly each foot followed. Gwen held her breath as she watched her oldest friend climb up the wall and onto the ceiling until they were staring upwards and downwards at each other. “Peter. I’m not freaked out, I think. But you’ve got to be, right?” Gwen finally exhaled and Peter dropped from the ceiling onto his bed with a loud thump. “I’m totally freaked. I mean I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now, except come up with a good laser eye surgery joke about my lack of glasses? And honestly, I haven’t come up with anything solid yet in that department.” Gwen sighed. She scooted the chair across towards the bed closer, making sure Peter’s attention on what she was about to say next. “This is serious, Pete. What if there are side effects you can’t predict? Have you heard from your dad at all since Ben and May got those court papers?” Peter shook his head. “And I’m ok with that. I get what drove him away, and I don’t want me being his first and only success at what he was trying to do being the one thing that draws him to me.” Gwen frowned, completely brokenhearted for him. She wrapped both arms around his neck and squeezed as tight as she could while fighting back tears. Peter had been through enough. More than anyone at his age should go through, her father told her once. He wasn’t going to wade through this newfound uncertainty alone, like he’d done so much of his troubles already. She released him after a moment, looking him in his eyes. “Hey, whatever forms this takes, we’ll be ready for it. You’re not by yourself dealing with this. Ok?” Peter nodded, at a complete loss for how to thank Gwen. Always equipped with the ability to deflect, Peter did just that. “Hey let's both try just worrying about orientation next week, right? You get your room assignment in the packet you picked up?” # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Just outside the bedroom with a basket of laundry in his arms was Ben. His eyes were glossy, his mouth agape at the conversation he’d stumbled upon. He slowly backed away, turning around fully once he reached the staircase. He hurried back into the living room, where May was sitting deep into a crossword puzzle. She looked up at Ben over her reading glasses, confused as to why he was back downstairs so quickly. # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Peter snatched up a slice of pizza before leaping to the ceiling, hanging there with one hand. Gwen giggled, impressed with the feat. “So those guys that got carted off earlier, you think your dad would know anything about it?” Peter wondered between bites of pizza. “Not too sure, but, I got a few ways I can find out.” Gwen gave him a sharp look. “What makes you ask?” Peter shrugged. “Morbid curiosity? I think…” # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # Inside the Queens local precinct, Captain George Stacy made his way through the bullpen after a long shift. He spotted his desk on the other end of the room and was desperate to fall right in front of it. Much to his dismay, his pathway was intercepted by one of the file clerks passing by. “Sorry, captain. You’re headed in the wrong direction.” The clerk informed him. “What are you talking about? I gotta wrap up these reports before I clock out of here tonight.” Stacy replied before promptly walking around the clerk. “Chief needs you at city hall. Told me to let you know as soon as you set foot back here.” The clerk called to George, who halted in place once again and swore under his breath. Fifteen minutes later Captain Stacy was stomping his regulation size thirteen work boots through the corridors of city hall. He was led into the mayor’s office by his assistant, where the chief was already enjoying a drink and cigar with Mayor Cherryh. “Chief Sterns. Sorry, it took me so long to make it over.” Captain Stacy apologized to his boss, who motioned for him to take the other seat next to him. “Captain Stacy, I’m sorry we had to rush you over. I’ve read your file, I know you’re out there breaking your neck.” The Mayor extended a handshake that Captain Stacy took firmly but while keeping his demeanor professional. “Just trying to do what I can to keep the streets safe, Mr. Mayor,” Stacy replied, which drew a firm nod from the mayor. Chief Sterns cleared his throat before interjecting from there. “Well, George, that’s what I had you hustle down here for. Believe me, I know you got to get home to that little girl of yours.” The chief had Captain Stacy’s full attention as he went on. “Some of your men pulled those morons who tried to hit that liquor store on Hamilton a few hours ago, is that right?” George nodded, and the mayor spoke up once again. “Chief Sterns tells me the men you arrested have possible mafia ties. Any idea which family?” This time Stacy cleared his throat before speaking, making sure he could be heard clearly and in a firm voice. “Well we believed them to be the last remnants of the Silvermane family, but the lawyer and the bail they were able to post has me leaning in another direction.” “You think it was another Maggia hit on a rival family’s turf?” The chief suggested, and his assumption was confirmed with a few nods of the head from Captain Stacy. “We’ve been trying to get more aggressive with how we handle their push across the city. We haven’t had the success I would like so far, but hopefully, today was a win that stifled some moves on their end.” “Well now George, that’s the thing here we want to examine. See Silvermane going under was big for the city, and big for the mayor’s campaign as you can understand. But the Maggia trying to turn the city into their playground now that the old tyrant had his head lopped off.” Stacy looked between the mayor and Chief Sterns, still trying to understand what exactly they wanted to see him for. “I agree sir. What are you proposing?” “We want you to put together a force, from every department across the city if you need to, with the sole purpose of completely shutting down the Maggia crime family and its operations in the state of New York.” Mayor Cherryh laid it all out in front of Captain Stacy, who was almost lost for words by what he and the chief were suggesting. “I’m not entirely sure what to say sir. I-” “We need you to say yes. Now we understand entirely what you will be up against in going head-up with one of the five families.” Chief Sterns didn’t give his captain the chance to voice his possible trepidation. He knew how much of a dutiful soldier George Stacy was since the day he signed up for the force, and also knew the way to get the best out of him was to tap into that sense of responsibility for other people’s safety. “I’m not asking you to sacrifice your family for this job. I’m asking you if you’re willing to sacrifice yourself for the city your daughter is growing up in. Captain Stacy looked the chief dead in both his eyes, his jaw clenched and jutting firmly with pride. “When can I start putting together my squad?” # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # George Stacy pulled his station wagon to a halt in front of Ben and May Parker’s about an hour after leaving city hall. He sighed. He knew the ramifications of the conversation he’d just left and how they would affect not just himself, but Gwen. He watched her walk out onto the porch in the sweater her mother had left behind, looking exactly like her. She gave a wave behind her to the parkers, who gave one to George as well he returned as Gwen opened the passenger door. He gave her a smile he hoped she couldn’t tell was forced as she tossed her bags into the backseat. Once her seatbelt was buckled, he put his jalopy back into drive and pulled off. “Did you get everything you needed while you were out with May, or do we need to make one last run together ourselves before orientation?” George asked his daughter. He watched her flip through her welcome packet from Brooklyn Visions with pride as he struggled to keep his focus on driving and not on Gwen. “Nah I think we should be all set. I do think we may want to go ahead and get that U-haul though for moving day.” Gwen advised as she looked over the information inside her booklet. “I may have ordered myself a futon that will be coming this weekend.” George chuckled and shook his head. The words of Chief Stern were still fresh on his mind, and as he watched his daughter beaming with excitement about her first steps into high school, he knew that the task laid in his hands was more important than even he realized. “Listen, Gwen-” “Hey Dad, did you hear anything about a crazy car chase near uptown? Peter and I saw the whole thing go down!” Her exclamation brought her father crashing down from his cloud of thoughts. “What were you and Peter doing anywhere near an active crime scene?” George’s voice dropped fully into protective dad mode. Gwen’s first instinct was to calm him down. “Relax Dad, we saw everything from up the street. They had the block shut down pretty quickly over a couple of stick-up guys though. What’s up with that?” Gwen asked, trying to mask her interest as genuine, intrepid curiosity. Her father didn’t buy what she was selling, and considering his new assignment, figured it was best to swat away her question the best he could manage. “There’s been an uptick in violent crimes around a few areas, we just wanted to make sure they weren’t connected to something else.” He looked over at his daughter, a firm disposition on his face. “Look honey, you know I’m not overly excited about you staying on campus at this place., so I don’t want you running around the city the first chance you get that classes are over.” Gwen wanted to argue, and just about started to, but the plea in her dad’s voice and the glint of care in his eyes caused her to think otherwise. “You don’t have to worry about me, Dad. You taught me how to keep my nose clean if nothing else.” Gwen couldn’t help but smile herself when she saw the grin that her words brought to her dad’s face. “Besides, I’m sure I’ll be too busy worrying about Peter.” # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # On the slope of roof that was accessible from his bedroom window, Peter sat with his arms wrapped around his legs. The wind bristled softly through his curly blonde hair and he took in every sight and sound of his neighborhood that reached him. Music blaring from Mr. Delmar’s bodega could be heard faintly in the distant, the production unmistakable from Jay-Z’s first Blueprint album. Then came the sirens, wailing as if they would never stop, overtaking the joyous sounds of laughter and commerce coming from the bodega up the street. Peter’s mind wandered back to the crash that could have killed Gwen and himself, and a train of thought began to barrel down the tracks in his head that he couldn’t quite stop. He stood up on the roof and took a deep breath. Alright, I can climb up walls, leap to a fire escape in a single bound. Now how does a boy spiderling get over his fear of heights? The answer I hope, is in micro doses. Peter placed both hands on the sloping roof and put both legs straight into the air. He smiled once his handstand was complete, enjoying the world around him now from a unique perspective. It is definitely going to take me a while to get used to all the blood rushing to my head, but let’s see how fancy I can really get. Peter lifted his left hand and stretched it out beside him, now holding himself up easily with only his right. Through the window to his right, he didn’t see his uncle enter the bedroom. Ben placed a stack of folded clothes onto his nephew’s bed and looked up to see Peter on the roof. His mouth hung open, in a complete struggle for the words to comprehend what he was seeing the usually frail, sickly boy he’d known was capable of. Finally, Ben managed to find something to describe his feelings. “Amazing..” Ben’s utterance drew Peter’s attention to his room, where he saw his uncle staring at him mid-handstand. “Uncle Ben? I can ex-” Peter lost his balance and his attention before falling off the roof. Ben hopped across the bed and to the window sill, climbing out himself to check on his nephew. “Peter! Peter! Are you alright?” Ben peered over the edge of the roof to see Peter on top of his car, giving his uncle a thumbs up. The burglar alarm finally goes off, causing several neighbors to come out of their homes to see what the ruckus could be. TO BE CONTINUED |