Chapter Nine

There I was as Spider-Girl, webswinging, somewhere in Manhattan. I flew through the air in a tremendous swing, let go, and started to fall, somersaulting and twirling like a skydiver until I webslung again and went soaring back up into the sky. I laughed and laughed, swinging from building to building, sometimes nearly toucing the ground and then swinging back up fly. People below waved and cheered.

No, that wasn't right. They weren't cheering, they were shouting, waving wildly, pointing to something I couldn't see. There was something wrong! I changed direction and swung around a corner, to a street that was gray and empty. The sky, sunny a moment before, was thick and heavy with clouds. Soundless.

"Hello? Anyone here?" I quickly scaled the nearest building for a better look. Some kind of gothic apartment complex on the waterfront, with a steep gabled roof. Gargoyles leered down at the deserted street below.

What was going on? There was no one here. There was nothing wrong.

WHAM!

Something hit me in the back with the force of a wrecking ball, sending me reeling forward. I twisted around and caught the edge of the roof with one hand, gasping at the dizzying drop below.

I couldn't climb up! My hands was slipping and sliding across the rough wall, not gripping at all. Frantically, I aimed and tried to shoot a web line. Nothing.

I pulled with all of my strength, dragging myself upwards, trying to ignore the gargoyles that seemed to be laughing and leering down at me. Wait. That wasn't a gargoyle, was it? Someone was up there on the roof!

"Help me!"

The person leaned forward, and I gasped. It wasn't a person, and it wasn't a gargoyle crouching there. It was something in between, with a face twisted into something between a grin and a snarl, with huge yellow eyes and long, pointed ears. All a shiny, metallic green.

The fingertips of my gloves were being shredded as I clawed at the wall. The creature began to laugh, cackling with sadistic glee, pointing mockingly at me. Then, as I listened in horror, the insane giggling became higher and younger. Wide, rust-colored swaths slashed across the creature's face and body, somehow changing into someone different before my eyes.

Then I lost my grip.

I sat through school that day in some kind of daze, trying to keep the dream out of my head. More than once someone asked me if I was feeling all right. I told them I was fine and tried to look normal and cheerful, but inside was a totally different matter.

Why was I dreaming things like that? I hadn't had a real nightmare in years. But it was so vivid, with colors and details. And that face. I had seen that face before somewhere. But where?

During chemistry class, when I was supposed to be looking up something about Democritus in the encyclopedia, I flipped ahead to 'dream'. It was mostly stuff about Freud and Jung, but one sentence caught my eye.

'Usually interpreted as the subconcious' attempt to clarify or explain an important issue in the subject's life.'

"That was supposed to be an explanation?" I grumped. For a minute I actually considered putting my head down on my desk and catching up on the five hours of sleep I had missed because of a stupid nightmare.

I sat there staring dimly at a page that made absolutely no sense, feeling incredibly lonely as other students happily cracked jokes and laughed with their project partners. This was fourth period, and it was already pretty obvious that Harry was sick or something.

"Who needs to use the library next?" Ms. Garcia called. I halfheartedly raised my hand.

"Mayday? Harry's not here?" I shook my head.

Ms. Garcia raised her eyebrows, looking concerned. "You can go ahead if you need to. Tired?"

I nodded weakly. "I couldn't sleep last night."

"I know what you mean. Hang in there." She wrote me a pass.

Five minutes later, I was in the library. The librarian, a woman with frizzy gray hair who had a name that, after a year, I still couldn't pronounce, blinked at me.

"Parker? Need some help?"

"Oh, yes, Ms...er, ma'am. I was looking for..." I broke off as another idea hit me. "I was looking for information on...um..." How was I supposed to say this? 'I was looking for information on this green gargoyle person who shows up in my dreams and laughs at me. Can you help?'

"I...um...I was looking for information on Manhattan architecture," I blurted out finally. The librarian smiled. "You? I would've thought you'd be looking for something on outer space or a Michael Crichton book."

"It's for a project," I said. Well, sort of a project.

I followed her through the maze of computers, tables, and shelves towards the back of the library. There weren't many people there, being so close to the end of the day. I listened as the librarian pointed out books about everything from buildings of New Amsterdam to the layout of the World's Fair.

"Let me know if you need any more help."

"Okay. Thank you."

The librarian went back to the front desk and I stared at the shelves of books in front of me. I had had this vague idea of finding the building somewhere in these books. I knew I had seen it before, but now I had no idea where to start looking.

I turned around and sighed, staring up at the shelves and shelves of books. This could take me days!

That was when I saw the door set between two bookshelves. A tarnished sign read, 'Archives'. Archives? Newspapers?

I glanced around to make sure no one was looking and pushed the door open with a slight creak. Flipping on the lights, I looked around. It was a converted storage room, filled with neatly labeled filing cabinets. I stepped over a pile of old textbooks and peered at the labels. 'The New York Times, Janunary-June 1995.' 'July-December, 1995.' Curiously, I pulled open the last drawer and leafed through the folders. Newspapers. I pulled one out from early November and coughed in the cloud of dust that came with it.

Hmmm. Almost exactly seven years ago. I flipped the newspaper over and got a shock as I saw the hideous nightmare face grimacing up at me from the front page. The creature, or person, was standing on what looked like a swept back, batlike airborne surfboard, clenching something like a metallic baseball in one hand, and laughing straight into the camera. Behind him was Dad! Dad, gripping a web line in one hand and swinging up behind him, one fist drawn back to punch.

World Unity Festival Disaster! the headline screamed, Spider-Man Saves Hundreds From Green Goblin!

Green Goblin.

Mouth hanging open, I read on. 'The annual Oscorp-sponsored World Unity Festival quickly became a nightmarish scene when what was at first believed to be part of the show created a life-threatening ordeal for festivalgoers. Early yesterday afternoon...'

It was him. With a surge of horror, I realized who it must have been in the alley last night. The Green Goblin.

But that didn't make total sense, either! This Green Goblin in the newspaper actually seemed a little taller than the one from Halloween. And what had he said to me? 'I swear on the grave of the one who was stolen from me, I will make you suffer.'

I jumped a foot in the air as the bell rang. Quickly stuffing the newspaper back into the filing cabinet, I flipped the lights off and picked up my binder.

I glanced curiously around. There were people rushing into the library instead of rushing out as usual. In fact, they seemed to be crowding around the front desk. Wasn't there a TV mounted on the wall there?

"Excuse me. Sorry. Excuse me." I shouldered through a crowd of gigantic seniors and almost knocked over a poor freshman.

"Holy crap," I heard a guy next to me mutter.

I nearly dropped my binder. CNN was on, with live coverage of Times Square. A reporter was facing the camera, screaming into his microphone, while police cars roared past beind him.

"I can't believe what I'm seeing here! It's like it's happening all over again! Spider-Girl! If you're watching, please! Please! Help us!"

That was when the camera whirled upwards at a dizzying speed to point directly into the sky, where a single figure stood aloft on a glider. It was as if the Goblin had stepped off the page and was there, hovering, laughing at the fleeing people and cars below. He was clenching something in his fist. But the costume was differently colored, with wide swaths of orange striping it, like rust.

"Where are you, Spider-Girl?"

The Goblin punctuated his last words by spinning around and hurling the object at a brightly flashing advertisement at the top of a skyscraper. It disappeared, seemingly swallowed up by the billboard, then a massive explosion of light and noise rocked the building. The twisted steel remains of a twenty-foot- tall billboard plummeted down.

"Where are you, Spider-Girl? Come out!"

Breathing fast, throat clenching, I pushed my way back against the crowds of students rushing in to watch. Outside, in the courtyard, I leaned against the gym wall. Me. This madman was after me.

"Okay, Gobby," I said. "You want to mess with me? You're going to get a hell of a lot more than you bargained for."

I turned and ran for the street.