Peter slowly and quietly pushed his car into the driveway, pointing towards the street, all its doors unlocked. He slipped around to the driver's door and glanced inside the car. Keys in the ignition. Good. A silent shadow, he ghosted around to the side of the bungalow and back into his bedroom.
Here we go, Peter thought. Then he darted out of the room. The huge figure instantly registered his presence. Peter grinned, and unleashed the fire extinguisher.
With a hollow roar, it cascaded thick fog and chemical goo all over the assailant. In one smooth motion the huge man was on his feet and lunging for Peter.
"Yeah," Peter said to himself as he hefted the extinguisher and drove its tank square into the face of his attacker. With a ringing thud, the big man stumbled; no way a puny college kid could have unleashed a hit like that. Peter hurled the tank into the mist, unerringly bouncing it off the big man, and he spit a thin stream of fluid onto him. Then he snatched Harry and Mary Jane's unconscious bodies and bounded to the front door, knocking it down and leaping for his car.
As he tossed his rescued friends into the back seat, he heard a deep hiss and the huge man staggered clear of the front door. For just a moment, Peter froze.
Still up? That freak is still up?
Peter dropped into the driver's seat and started the car as the huge man took a couple stumbling steps towards them. Peter tore out into the street as the massive man broke into a run towards him. As Peter gunned it and screamed away on the road, the huge man in a black suit launched himself through the air and smashed into the car.
Peter swore as the car shifted and swerved with the tremendous weight its back. Harry and MJ stirred, groaned, blinked.
Peter glanced in his rearview and saw the huge man kneeling on the trunk, gripping the roof.
Oh yeah?
Peter stomped on the accelerator and pushed the strained vehicle into a punishing corner maneuver; the huge man on the back of the car hissed again, and his fingers punched into the back windows as he gripped the roof. The car almost rolled, but Peter managed to keep it up; no tires blew. Then the huge man on the back flexed with a massive effort that ripped the roof of the car free in the back and bent it forward at an angle. Now Peter glanced back through the missing roof. He saw the ugly pug face of the giant, thin pale hair whipping in the wind, eyes unblinking and full of rage.
Mary Jane tried to scream, and she and Harry struggled to get down on the floor in the back seat.
No.
Peter thought he heard a hissing chuckle as he swerved again. This time he aimed for a lamp post on the sidewalk; sure enough, the big man was forced to lean off to the side. One of the tires did blow this time, and Peter's whole world was suddenly reduced to instants, moments of intense focus.
The car did not flip.
Then there was a wrenching yank, and the car wobbled as Peter pushed it to its limits. The car was lighter now. Peter had banked close enough to the light pole to catch their passenger and knock him loose. As Peter glanced in the rear view, he saw the big man get up and start running.
The busted car handled erratically, but Peter managed to coax it along at good speed. Wind tore through the inside of the car as Harry and Mary Jane helped each other get loose of the duct tape.
"Are you okay!" Peter yelled.
"I think so!" Mary Jane yelled back over the wind of the opened car. "My leg hurts but I think it's okay!"
"I'm taking you to the Stacys!" Peter hollered, then he buckled down and drove.
Only a few minutes later he screeched the trashed car to a halt in front of the Stacy residence. He bounded out of the car and up the front steps. He rang the doorbell repeatedly, then jumped down the stairs. "You getting clear of the tape?"
"Clear enough," Mary Jane managed. "What are you going to do?"
"When you get loose, call the police," he said quickly. "And an ambulance, but the police for sure. Go inside. Lock the door." He turned and ran down the sidewalk, back the way they had come from.
"What are you going to do?!" Mary Jane called after him.
xXx
Peter didn't have far to go before he saw the big van, smelled a whiff of his saliva tracer from it. Inside, he saw the huge white knuckles of the fist gripping the wheel. Peter hoped whoever this monster had hijacked was still alive and not too maimed.
Glancing around, he saw a large postal drop box bolted to the sidewalk. He wrenched it free of the concrete sidewalk, and eyed the van. Then he glanced ruefully down at the mailbox. "Look, ma, I'm using a Federal missile!" With that, he cranked back and sent the mailbox smashing through the van's windshield.
The van swerved, hopped up on the curb, almost avoided a group of trash cans, scraped off a stairwell, and spun to a halt. The mailbox sailed out, pushed by incredible strength. Peter saw the big man inside scanning the street. He saw Peter, and revved his engine.
"Come on and ram me, you insane freak," Peter muttered. "Looks like Frankenstein's newest monster comes with internalized bolts for only nineteen ninety nine more," he softly pattered, not paying any attention to himself.
The van squealed as it's tires spun wildly, and its fishtailing trajectory lined up on Peter. He let it come. Closer. The headlights got further apart, and still he did not dodge. Then in a single agile spring he went straight up.
With a crash, the van rammed into the front of the apartment complex hard enough to lift the back off the ground. Peter landed lightly on the roof, dropped down by the driver's side of the van. If anyone in the neighborhood heard anything, they weren't involving themselves. Peter wondered if, when questioned, anybody would have seen anything. Peter reached for the driver's door.
The door flew off its hinges, crashing into Peter as he prepared to rip it open. Surprised, Peter bounded back, shattered safety glass scattering. He shoved the door aside and stood ready as the giant pulled himself clear of the wreck.
"Okay, so let's do introductions," Peter said. "I'm the spider ghost and you're Timex."
"Bet that'll be even funnier the next time you say it," whispered the giant. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a massive handgun.
Peter zipped out a webline, snagging the gun and tugging it out of the giant's hand. "No," he said. "Bad thug. No gun." His muscles flexed in a sudden effort and he bent the barrel of the gun.
For just a moment, the two stood looking at the gun. Then they met each other's eyes.
The giant grinned, showing his sharpened teeth.
"I have an offer for you," he whispered in his ruined, guttural voice. "This is not the way it was supposed to happen. We could have had a nice, simple chat. But no. You gotta try to extinguish me. So let's start at the top. Howja like two hundred and fifty thousand a year plus bonuses?" whispered the big man, his eyes narrowing and his smile widening as sirens wailed closer.
"What?" Peter said, for a moment at a loss for words.
"This isn't the time," whispered the huge man. "I'll be in touch." Then, moving with surprising grace and silence, he vanished down the alley.
"Much as I'd like to know where you're going," Peter muttered, looking after him, "I've got some other business to attend to."
By the time the police showed up, the wreck was abandoned.
xXx
Peter strode down the sidewalk towards the Stacy residence. A police car was parked out front, and every light in the house was on. Peter sprang up the stairs and opened the door, heading in.
"Peter!" John Stacy said. "There you are. We were worried stiff."
Peter noted that Mary Jane and Harry were sitting on the couch, looking a little bruised and chafed but otherwise intact.
"How'd you do it?" Harry asked. "How did you get us out of there?"
"I snuck in the window like usual," Peter said, "In case you all were busy." Harry blushed. "Then," Peter continued, "I glanced in the living room and saw you two all laid out. I got the fire extinguisher, and jumped out. Nailed the big guy with a blast of foam to the eyes and dragged you two out to the car. You were awake for the rest of that." He shrugged. "And you all said I watched 'Ronin' too many times."
"You'd have to log a lot of Pole Position time to drive like this madman," Mary Jane said, shaking her head, watching Peter with a new thoughtfulness. "Your car is pretty wrecked."
Peter nodded. "My car is less important to me than my friends. My car can be fixed. There's no replacing you guys."
"Why did you run off?" asked the policeman who stood by the wall, keeping a low profile thus far.
Peter looked at him. "I thought I saw him carjack somebody, wanted to see if they were okay. I didn't find anything."
"Probably best for you. If you had encountered the suspect--"
"Suspect?" Harry said incredulously. "Oh, please, put this monster in a lineup for me!"
"Harry," John Stacy said softly, "there's a way things are done."
Harry lapsed into silence.
"The van has been found," the policeman continued. "Crashed."
"Good deal, crisis averted. Hey listen, I'm gonna go to Aunt May's and crash. I have class tomorrow."
"I am sympathetic to that, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you and Mr. Osborn and Ms. Watson to come with me to the station to give a statement."
As his friends got up to go with the officer, Peter looked at him once and headed for the door. "Let's make this short," he said, his voice tense.