Chapter Three

        The alley behind the Rosenbaum watch shop was where I usually changed before coming home, and where we headed. The street lamps shone eerily suspended in the fog like ghost lights. A single car crawled past and vanished.

        "Okay, tell. Where's your glider, again?" I asked Harry as we stopped at the entrance of the alley. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a metallic square about the size of his palm. I stared at it, then at him. He smiled.

        "You might want to stand back."

        Harry pulled back his arm and hurled the square like a boomerang. It spun off into the fog.

        I raised my eyebrows. Harry said, "It takes a few seconds."

        A strange, loud clicking echoed down the street, and I saw the square returning, spinning back like a Frisbee, nearly twice the size it had been a moment ago. It seemed to be stretching, expanding in midair, three, four, five times its size. Swept back wings unfolded from its sides with a sudden snap and it halted abruptly at Harry's feet, hovering a foot above the ground.

        "It's collapsible," Harry said.

        I stared at it, my eyes wide. The glider at Harry's feet was built in the shape of a streamlined bat. The entire craft was nearly five feet from wingtip to wingtip, with curved wings that had a strange, greenish shimmer to them. I crouched down and ran my fingers over the surface tentatively. The metal wavered under my fingers; it had a strange texture as if the steel had been formed out of liquid. Harry's old glider, the one that had belonged to his father, seemed clunky and stilted, like the Wright brothers' plane to an Air Force jet.

        I heard the sliding of metal plates and saw Harry's armor building itself around him from a pair of green gauntlets on his hands. I gaped at him.

        "Harry, how...how the heck did you do this?"

        Harry pulled his helmet down over his head and raised the eye shields. "A lot of late nights."

        "How did...how..." I was at a loss for words. I always known he was good with machines, and that he had done stuff like taking his aunt's car apart and putting it back together, but I'd never imagined that he could build something like this! This was incredible!

        "I can't take all the credit," Harry said modestly. "The infrastructure's basically the same as the old one, except that it's jointed for flexibility. I hooked up its mainframe and targeting systems to a few terminals in the workshop and rewrote some of the parameters. It's a souped up version of the prototype."

        "You're not kidding!" I stood up. "What's it made of? The surface? And...wait a minute," I said, peering at the glider again. "How do you even stay on it? There aren't any clamps."

        "Like this." Harry stepped aboard the glider and braced his feet. He made a slight movement of his head, and to my astonishment, I saw the metal of the glider begin to ripple like water around his feet. It oozed around the base of the armored boots and solidified, locking them in solid metal.

        "Treated cendequatrium. Element one hundred and fourteen. It's an artificial metalloid. You'd be really surprised to see what they're doing in Quest Aerospace with this stuff."

        "It's got the properties of a solid and a liquid? This is a new phase of matter! Harry, you're a genius!"

        "I know," he grinned.

        "And very modest, too," I said, still stunned. "I'll...I'll go on and..."

        I stepped into the alley, pulled my T-shirt off over my head and rolled down the sleeves of my Spider-Girl costume; I wore it almost everywhere under my normal clothes. As I slid my mask over my head, I wondered.

        Harry didn't take school very seriously at all. He did what was required, turned in homework he did hastily between classes, and was perfectly satisfied with whatever grade he got. He read whatever he wanted, researched projects when he felt like it, and had admitted freely that he found the In the Wake of the Plague, the required history text, to be the worst book he'd ever read. Teachers called him average, undisciplined and unmotivated, and shook their heads sadly at the mention of his name.

        And yet he had spent five months single-handedly putting together a piece of technology so amazingly sophisticated that most of the people in the world didn't know existed. On his own, in secret, with nothing but some old blueprints and materials scrounged from Quest Aerospace, formerly OsCorp.

        I had never realized how truly brilliant my best friend was.

        I stuffed my outer clothes and shoes into the backpack I had stationed in the alley a few days before and did a front handspring back to the sidewalk to warm up. Harry was hovering impatiently on his glider, his eye shields lowered so that they were opaque yellow.

        I cracked my knuckles. "Okay, let's-hey!"

        The glider blasted straight up in the air with a roar that must have rattled windows in Newark, revolved to the north, and jetted away into the fog like a missile. My jaw dropping, I bounded up the wall of the watch shop and took off in a sprint over the rooftops. I couldn't even see him through the murk; I could only follow the noise of the glider, and the buildings in Queens weren't nearly tall enough for webswinging.

        The Queensboro bridge loomed up suddenly and I leaped from the last building, shot a webline, and was hurtling towards the pavement. The line pulled taut, swinging me up in a wide arc and sending me flying towards the first skyscraper of Manhattan island. I landed on the roof and skidded to a stop.

        Harry drifted down in front of me. "Mayday! Did you see this thing go?" He crowed, "I clocked it! Two hundred miles and hour! Two hundred!"

        "I...noticed..." I wheezed. "But you sound like a jet...when you fly..."

        "Oh, yeah, I can tone it down. You ain't seen nothin' yet. Wait'll you see what else this baby can do-"

        "Harry," I said. "I hate to spoil this for you, but we really have a job to do here."

        "Oh," Harry said. "Right. Sorry."

        We started off again, Harry flying more slowly and silently. We were above the mist now, and it felt like swinging between layers of clouds. Manhattan Island was nearly twelve miles long. Harry probably could have made the trip in a few minutes, if it weren't for my webswinging. The fog muffled all sounds below, and the city was eerily silent.

        We crossed into the Bronx. The Shamrock Hotel was right on the waterfront. The police were still there below, and the whole area was surrounded by yellow tape. But the sky was empty.

        "So, now what?" Harry asked.

        Time to get down to business. I peered over the edge of the hotel's roof. "We'd better take a look around. Split up. This thing sounds like it can fly...so, think you can keep watch above the fog?"

        Harry shrugged. "Sure. A giant bird should be pretty hard to miss, if that's what it is."

        "Okay. I'll keep under the fog. Say, back here in an hour?"

        He nodded.

        "See you then." I stepped off the roof and fell feet first through the mist, shooting web from both wrists to break my fall. The streets of the Bronx were deserted.

        "That's weird," I muttered. The Bronx wasn't as busy as Manhattan at night, but it was rarely empty like this. I held my breath, waiting to see if my spider-sense would start tingling. It didn't.

        I hopped building-to-building, squinting through the fog. I didn't see anything at all, and my mind started to wander, mostly to the situation at home.

        Seriously, what was wrong with my cousin? How was I going to survive the summer sharing my room with her? Frankly, I would have rather taken a round with some spiderbots. She had just been in the house for ten minutes when-

        "Aaaaah! Aaaaah! Help me! Help me!"

        I fired a short webline and sailed across the street to land crouched on the corner of a small office building. It was a man's voice screaming, loud and hysterical. I strained my ears. Running footsteps, coming down the sidewalk in my direction. I released my grip and dropped, landing in the middle of the sidewalk just as he appeared out of the mist. I stood up.

        "Hey, what's the problem?"

        He skidded to a stop in front of me, and in the dim light I could make out an expression of abject terror. "No, no, no, no, not you!"

        He turned and ran a few steps, then came scrambling back. "No! I don't care if you turn me in, just help me! Please! Please!"

        He was a man in a baseball cap and windbreaker. His face was white and his eyes were wide. "Please! Save me! It's coming! It's gonna kill me!"

        "Whoa, hold on! What's going to kill you?" I asked, more than a little rattled. "There's nothing-"

        Not a second after the words had left my mouth my spider-sense exploded, shrieking a wild alarm. A half-second after that, the night was cut by an earsplitting screech.

        "Aaaah!" I yelled and clapped my hands over my ears, tears of pain leaking from my eyes. It was horrible, louder than a fire truck's siren, bouncing off the sides of buildings and echoing back louder and higher than before, again and again and again. I saw windows shattering, glass raining down to the ground. My head was throbbing. I couldn't move, could barely breathe...

        The man screamed and fell onto the pavement, hands over his ears, writhing in agony. I stumbled against a wall, and I saw it. It came out of the mist, blurry and indistinct, gliding like a deadly bird of prey. Bird of death. Two huge wings flapped once, shot low over the ground, and two talons snatched the man off the sidewalk and vanished into the fog.

        "Oh, my..." I shoved myself away from the wall and tried to websling. The scene wavered before my eyes as if it were underwater. I staggered, forced myself to think, to aim...

        The pain was fading. I leaped into the air and took off, feeling sweat break out over my forehead. In the silence there was a slow, steady rush of air: the beating of wings. I raced after it, straight into the fog, totally blind.

        What was this thing? It had paralyzed me with that noise, grabbed the man, and I hadn't been able to do anything! Where was Harry? Maybe he could catch up to it on the glider; I couldn't even see, and could barely hear after that noise.

        I swung haphazardly, running along walls and sliding down a stray power line, narrowly missing windows and corners. Once or twice I felt my web shoot into empty space, nearly sending me headfirst into the concrete. The thing was flying in a straight line, right down the main avenue. I had to catch up to it, I had to!

        "Come on...come on..."

        I saw the outline of a tall building come up on the left, and I shot a line to its very top, swinging wildly fast, almost out of control. I gritted my teeth, straining to keep my grip and follow the wingbeats with ringing ears. I was getting close, almost there...

        I saw wings again, so close that I could make out individual feathers. I couldn't see anything else, just wings. It was right under me.

        I dropped the webline and fell straight down, slamming my feet right into the space between its wings.

        "Oof!"

        Since when did birds go 'oof'?"

        The wings spun and tumbled down, sending me after them. Thinking fast, I shot web from both wrists, a guaranteed fall-breaker. I heard a heavy thud, and a scream of pain. It was the man.

        I landed in a crouch. Where was that coming from? The murk drifted around the street lamps. I walked a few steps towards the closest, squinting. My spider-sense was ringing, buzzing almost like an electrical shock.

        "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

        I spun around. The man was screaming, repeating the same words in a desperate chant.

        I called, "Where are y-"

        "Aaaaaaah! No! Nooooo!"

        I ran forward, feeling a sour taste in the back of my throat. Someone was going to be killed, ten feet away, and I couldn't even see!

        I stumbled around, whirling in panic, when I saw the man again. He was on the ground, dragging himself on his elbows into the light from a stifled lamp. His leg was broken.

        I rushed forward. Something stepped into the light behind him and I skidded to a halt. I gasped. Were my eyes working?

        Because I could see a person standing there. I could see what looked like a brightly-colored garment, a green suit with a bright yellow belt. Then boots, then gloves, then collar, then mask.

        Mask. I could make out a yellowish mask, the color of a bird's beak. It was swept forward, out from the face with a hooked end, covering the top half of the person's face in a mask molded in the shape of the head of a bird of prey.

        It was a girl, or maybe a young woman. She was much taller than I was, and when she stepped forward again I saw, rising from her shoulder blades, two gigantic, feathered wings.

        The man turned over and shrieked. She made a strange leap, almost like a pounce, and grabbed the man by the throat, heaving him up off the ground and over her head.

        "Did you think you could get away from me, little rat?" She whispered.

        "Please!" The man gurgled helplessly, kicking his good leg. "Let me go! I'll never do it again! I'll-" A strangled gasp left him as the person raised her left hand in front of his face, and I saw thin, black eagle talons extending from the fingertips of her gloves.

        "I'm making sure you'll never do it again. No, tonight, justice is served!"

        She swung back her hand, about to rake her claws across his face, and I fired, completely enveloping her hand in webbing.

        "What...!"

        I sprang forward, slamming into her and sending her sprawling. The man dropped to the ground and I leaped in front of him, tense, ready, eyes narrowed. She stumbled to her feet, and I saw eyes blazing furiously at me through her mask.

        "You! What are you doing? How dare you interfere with me!"

        "What do you think you're doing? You tried to kill him!" I yelled.

        "He deserves death. I am only the instrument of punishment," she said.

        The first question that came into my head was Who wrote your lines? but I shouted, "What are you talking about?"

        She jerked her head in a strange, birdlike movement."You're Spider-Girl, aren't you?"

        "You must be new in town," I said, trying to sound cockier than I actually felt. "Who are you?"

        What was she? Those wings growing from her back were real. They didn't look mechanical or tied on, at least not that I could see. Now that she had spoken, I was sure that she wasn't much older than I was, maybe eighteen or nineteen.

        She hissed, ignoring my question, "Then it's you! You are the weak one who allows this to happen."

        My temper flared. "I beg your pardon? I don't take well to insults from would-be murderers."

        "Murderer?" She threw back her head and laughed, a harsh cawing noise. "I am no more a murderer than a noose or an axe or a needle. I deliver justice to those who deserve it, like that cringing animal over there."

        "You're a vigilante," I said, realizing. "You can't do this."

        "You speak without knowledge," she said, tearing the webbing from her left hand. Tearing it. The mist swirled around her like a whirlpool. "I watch. I saw what happened." She stabbed a clawed finger at the man cowering behind me. "Do you know who you protect?"

        I said nothing, and she continued harshly. "Just an hour ago, during the day, I saw this man try to abduct a young child. He dragged her to his car. I stunned him and gave the girl a chance to escape, and this man a head start. And then..." Her mouth stretched into a malignant grin. She raised her talons. "I went hunting."

        I didn't move. The man behind me was scum. Filth. The lowest, vilest of criminals. The kind that I had handed over to the police, knowing that he was on his way to a long time behind bars.

        This was the man lying on the pavement.

        And I was protecting him!

        "You see?" She said. "Now stand aside. I need to complete my work. The work you should have carried out for this long time, and Spider-Man before you."

        I braced my feet and tensed my arms, folding my hands into fists. "You mean killing everyone we catch?" My voice trembled. She was insane to even suggest something like that! "We aren't the law, and neither are you!"

        "I give justice to those who deserve it, while you moralize and let the system do your dirty work."

        "Who are you to decide that?" I threw back at her. "Who are you to be his judge and jury?"

        "Judge, jury, and executioner. Now stand aside, Spider-Girl." She took a step forward. I raised my fists.

        "If you come any closer, you'll get nothing but a fight. It's one of the things this moralizer is rather good at." I lowered my voice. "I've tackled things much more frightening than you, things that make a feathered vigilante look like a tinsel fairy. So I suggest you stand aside."

        There was utter silence as we glared at each other, broken only by the terrified gasps of the man on the ground. His fate was being decided in front of him.

        "I could stun you the way I did before and there would be nothing you could do," she said.

        "Then try it," I responded evenly.

        The seconds stretched on. "Leave," I said, trying to keep my uneasiness out of my voice.

        She seemed wary, uncertain, as if she thought I was leading her into some trap. Then she backed away.

        "You are too weak to do what must be done. You don't have the strength to defend this city."

        "And I suppose you do?" I growled. "By murdering? You're taking lives! You're descending to the same level as the people you hunt!"

        "One must go into savagery to defeat the savage," she said. "Descend into crime to defeat the criminal. Fine. I won't pursue this rodent any further." She nodded at the man. "But as for you..." She turned, and I saw avian eyes blazing through her mask. She pointed at me.

        "You inhibit justice. You don't allow scum to get their just reward. Then you are also in opposition to me. You must also be removed if I am to continue my work."

        "And you're as much a criminal as the rest of them. If we cross paths again, I'll make sure the next thing you see will be a prison cell."

        She snorted. "We will see." She took another step backwards, fading into the fog. "Watch your back, Spider-Girl."

        She stood there, half shrouded in mist. Her wings unfolded to their full length, almost a twenty foot wingspan. The wings lifted and flapped once, sending tiny tornados of mist swirling around her, and she shot up through the fog and vanished.

        Silence.

        "Th-thank you," the man groveled, crawling forward on his hands and knees. "You saved me-"

        "Get away from me," I snapped. "You're disgusting. I didn't save you so you could go running off again. You're going to be taking a  ride in a squad car, pal."

        I turned and shot web from both wrists, pinning his arms to his sides. Careful not to touch any of him other than the web, I grabbed him and leaped into the air, slinging and swinging back through the fog in the direction of the Shamrock Hotel.

        Great. Just great! What a day this had been, and what a way to start the summer. Andrea and a murderous vigilante with wings. I didn't even want to try to come up with an explanation for someone who seemed to be half bird. Somehow the idea of being bitten by a genetically enhanced hawk just seemed ridiculous.

        The man had the sense to keep his mouth shut as I dropped down in the crowd of police officers and reporters still surrounding the hotel, provoking many startled yelps. I tossed the guy into the hands of two officers.

        "You might want to try interviewing people in the area about attempted abductions," I said.

        "What do you want now?"

        I sighed. I knew that voice all to well. As the police officers hustled the thug into an ambulance, I turned. "Bannon, I'm really not in the mood for this."

        He came jogging through the crowd. "We've got it covered. That's what police are for."

        "What are you doing here, anyway?" I asked.

        "I'm assigned to this case," he replied smugly. "And I can tell you that we'll be able to handle whatever comes up on our own."

        "No you won't, man!" It was the criminal, sitting up on an ambulance gurney as another officer read him his rights. "It's a monster! It's got huge claws and it-."

        "Hey, hey, comin' through, people! What was that?" A man with a tape recorder and a camera around his neck hustled forward.

        "Jerry Mason from the Daily Bugle. Can I get your statement on that?"

        Well, this just kept getting better and better. Jerry Mason, the pet reporter of J. Jonah Jameson himself, the endless crusader against Dad, and now me. The man went off, describing in highly exaggerated detail about a woman with wings who had nearly mauled him and eaten him alive.

        I sighed. I was planning to go an sit up on the roof and wait for Harry to arrive. The whole thing had taken only about thirty minutes, and on that glider he could have been anywhere.

        The criminal was packed into the ambulance and Jerry Mason was ushered away, already barking into his cell phone. I hopped up onto the wall and began to crawl upwards, just as Jerry rushed to his car.

        "I'm serious, he said that's what she looked off. Spider-Girl just showed up..."

        I heard faintly Jameson's voice yelling on the other end, and Jerry said, "I don't know, I think they had a showdown or something. I don't think they're working together..."

        More shouting from Jameson, and Jerry said, "Boss, I'm not good at making up names...yeah...well, 'Hobgoblin' was kind of easy to come up with...what was that? What? Sorry? No, I'm not deaf, Mr.. Jameson...yes, I had my hearing checked last month...okay. How's this for a headline. "Daily Bugle Tells All: Criminal Menaced by Ladyhawk!"