"Do something!" Serina pleaded as she and Spider-Man fell to the ground.
"Trying!" the hero defended. He was still clutching his left wrist, which by now was killing him after all the failed attempts to sling out a lifesaving web. The two tumbled, skycars whizzing by as they rapidly descended districts.
Okay. Don't panic. You're going to die, but don't panic. Spider-Man thought to himself. Think. The novice hero tried to recall the various old stories and footage he'd seen of heroes on the History Channel, specifically Spider-Man. Hadn't he had some other way to travel besides webs?
The glider wings shot out of their position, and Spider-Man's fall was slowed dramatically. Serina slowly stopped screaming as she realized they weren't about to become street pizza. They were still going a little fast, but they should slow down before they got to the ground.
"Holy crap, that actually worked?" Spider-Man said in disbelief. He'd been half sure gliding had been Daredevil's shtick. Or was that the Punisher? Aw screw it, he was just glad to be alive. Serina clung to him even tighter now that his arms were no longer wrapped around her, busy gliding them to safety.
They landed on a very low rise balcony with an old sheet metal roof full of holes. It clanged as their feet hit it, and other sections creaked and groaned at the strain of having to support two people in addition to itself.
"Where are we?" Serina asked, looking around.
There were few skyscrapers around, and the ones that were shot so monstrously high their peaks could not be seen. Dim, yellowed and orange lights made poor attempts to light the night. The air had a thick, musty feeling to it, weighed down by layers of polluted air that had sunk to these lower levels. And was that a car with actually wheels?
"Welcome to the Slums," Spider-Man said.
The Slums, on the eastern side of the city and near or at the surface in terms of elevation, were hands down the worst parts of town. In the upper and newer levels, crime was a corporate business shared by the law enforcement and the Alchemax owned gangs, operated smoothly. Down here, it was just random chaos and lawlessness. A woman walking the streets alone could get maybe two hundred yards before thugs and the like descended on her. Only half that if she wore heels.
Public Eye was, ironically, far cleaner and more honest in the Slums than it was in other areas of town. Simply because the crime in the Slums was to dirty, to random, and too down right uncontrollable for Alchemax to get its hands into. Thus, the gangs here ran their own agenda and the Public Eye here did the job they were supposed to rather than get involved in…less savory activities.
It was dirty, it was full of drug addicts and gangs, it was old, and it refused to obey any sort of rule except for maybe following the status quo and being a stereotypical slum in what was so often advertised as the city of tomorrow.
Add on the fact that this was where Miguel O'Hara's life had been changed forever, and this was a truly memorable district. Yes, this is where he'd gotten his first dose of Rapture.
"The Slums…" Serina said, looking out at this strange new world she'd never really known was right beneath her feet. "…it's really something else."
"Yeah…" Spider-Man said through clenched teeth. He clutched his wrist, another attempt resulting in only more pain. "You never forget your first night in the Slums. Ow, god damn it…"
Serina turned around to look at him again. "Are you okay? What happened up there?"
"I'm fine, it's nothing," Spider-Man assured her, still rubbing his wrist to soothe the pain. It was like something inside his arm was being pulled and stretched to the breaking point. "Just uh…um…"
Static crackled in the built in phone of Spider-Man's mask. "—uel? Read me? Miguel are you there?"
Serina's ears picked up the noise. "What was that?" she asked.
"Nothing," Spider-Man quickly replied. He pressed two fingers to his ears to try and get better quality sound.
"Miguel, what happened, I lost the signal," the old man said.
"I don't know the webs…they started hurting me," the novice tried to explain. "What went wrong?"
"You're spinnerets might be dry, you must have exhausted them saving the train," the veteran hero reasoned. "They'll be good for use again in about an hour or so, but lay off of them until then, it'll only cause strain."
"Yeah, that would have been nice to know earlier," Spider-Man commented.
"Now where would the fun be if I just gave you all the answers?" the old doctor quipped.
"Very funny," Spider-Man sarcastically retorted. "Um, I don't suppose I could get a ride?"
The call abruptly ended. Spider-Man sighed. "Yeah…guess not."
"Who were you talking to…just now?" Serina asked, confused.
"Uh…I have…schizophrenia?" Spider-Man tried.
Serina folded her arms. "You know, for a guy in a mask claiming to be Spider-Man, you're not very good at lying. Worse than a friend of mine even."
"Hey who said I was just claiming to be Spider-Man?" the hero in question asked. "I'm as real as they get."
"Please," Serina said, rolling her eyes. "Earliest sightings of 'you' go as far back as the mid-twenties, back when Alchemax was budget consuming subdivision in Oscorp. So either Spider-Man has the secret to the fountain of youth, or there is a new face under that mask of yours."
Damn it. She always was smart.
So rather than try to talk his way out of it, Spider-Man used a tactic Miguel O'Hara had employed many times before. He baited her with a subject she couldn't ignore.
"I'm sure your parents are wondering where you are right now," he said.
It was an obvious attempt to change the subject, but Serina fell for it hook line and sinker just like she always did.
"Shit!" she cursed, then realized what she'd just said. "Oh, sorry about the language. It just, if I don't get home in time my dad will kill me. Well, not literally but still. Oh god…"
"Hey, take it easy," Spider-Man interrupted. "Just call them. Tell them where you are, and that you need a ride."
"You're leaving me here?" Serina asked, looking in horror at the district. "By myself."
The costumed vigilante held up his hands in defense. "Absolutely not. Relax. I'll keep you safe until your ride shows up."
"Couldn't…couldn't you just give me a lift back?" Serina asked hopefully.
"Uh, I'm still kind of dry on the webs and, it may take a while to jump and climb all the way back to Highrise—"
"Wait," she interrupted. "How…how did you know I lived in the Highrise?"
Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid! "That's where the train was going," Spider-Man explained.
Serina looked at him skeptically. She didn't believe it for one second, but she really had no other explanation for how a sixty-year old urban legend knew where she lived. She was positive that it was someone new behind the mask though. No one who'd been around as long as Spider-Man could possibly feel that…toned.
"Sure," she said. "Tell you what. I'll stop asking questions if you get me home."
"It'd be quicker to just call for a ride," Spider-Man reminded her, even as he wrapped an arm around her waist.
"I'm sure it would," she agreed, her arms going around his neck. He sighed one last time, and made the first superhuman leap up the side of the building. He carried her all the way up and out of the Slums, through Midtown, and even up through the Highrise.
Serina wasn't normally afraid of heights. She liked tall rollercoasters, and lived in one of the tallest buildings in the city. But, flying through the city with nothing but air beneath her feet and nothing but Spider-Man to hold onto, she found her heart racing and her arms pulling her even tighter against Spider-Man's body.
Finally though, Spider-Man and Serina landed safely on the rooftop garden of the apartment complex Serina lived in. But Spider-Man had been more careful with his secret this time. He'd made Serina give him directions to her place, rather than just take her there.
He landed, by now carrying her bridal style. The soreness in his forearms was finally gone now, and Serina had stayed true to her word and not asked any more questions.
"Thanks again," Serina said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"Take care," Spider-Man told her. He stepped onto the edge of the roof, and fired out a web line to swing away. Before he could swing away though, Serina ran up behind him, grabbing his arm before he could leave.
"Who are you, really?" Serina asked.
"Do you expect an answer to that?" the hero asked.
"I'd like one," Serina told him. There was a pause. Spider-Man continued to cling to his web line, but he wasn't leaving yet.
Finally, he spoke up. "Goodbye." Then he swung away.
"Lost visual," the Public Eye scout reported as Spider-Man swung out of his scope.
"Come on back to base, today Spidey gets away," the captain ordered. The scout acknowledged the orders and signed off. The Public Eye Captain, Clinton Garrand, groaned and turned to his boss. She wasn't anything like he'd pictured her. For one thing, she was so…young.
The woman Garrand took orders from…didn't even look old enough to be called a woman at all. She was average height, she had hazel eyes and small diamond earrings glinted on her ear lobes. Her dirty blonde hair was tied back in a pony tail, and her blouse and short pencil skirt hugged her curves in a very unprofessional way. Her muscles though were surprisingly defined for a rich girl who didn't usually lift a finger.
"There a reason we let this freak slide?" Garrand asked.
Ms. Harriet Alchemax just smiled and said, "Oh, it's all part of the plan."
This officially wraps of the story beginnings. Harriet Alchemax is, in fact, still a teen. She's obviously going to be a big part of this story, as is Serina. Up next Miguel gets his first supervillian, courtesy of 3-in-1. Until then, see you all next time.
