Chapter 24: Victory Runs Faster Than Her Pursuers.

Spider-man was standing upon the extended arm of a city lamp post. He was expecting a slugfest to take place just 60 feet away from him. Now, it didn't matter how awesome the Blob's strength was, he wasn't going to let the supposed inexperienced mutant trade punches with the powerful stranger.

And there they were. The two men found themselves staring at each other. Thankfully nothing was happening and Spider-man thought that the mutt's distraction is what he needed.

Spider-man prepared to leap forward when his defensive instincts went crazy. He flipped back and away from the street lamp. In the middle of the backwards somersault, the youth bent his neck so that between his feet, his eyes could view his former perch. Instantly, a second quick-flying, buzzing object darted into the space where his chest would have been if he had remained there. This time his eyes recognized it as an arrow.

"HOLY CRAP! Don't tell me there's a whack-o Robin Hood wannabe on the loose."

All at once, there was an explosion of light that had the blinding brilliance of a lighthouse beacon. The arrow, the lamp post, everything vanished behind a blanket of white searing light.

Spider-man was temporarily blinded, but instincts took over so that he knew when to flex his joints in order to cushion his landing on the years-neglected sidewalk. When his eye sight cleared, Spider saw that the top of the street lamp was gone.

The Unicorn's booster boots glided her over to the other side of the van where the widely built, grey meta-being was cussing uncontrollably. Her peripheral vision caught something to the right. At a distance, staying about two feet above the ground, she saw a fast moving haze heading her way. Her memory flashed back to the other times when she had seen the same sight. The haze, or dark vapor, was really an air force of flying ants. But now there also were larger members included in this charge of the very light brigade. Henry must have summoned the wasps, as well.

Yolanda cheered behind her mask. This cooperative gathering of two different and competing species gave evidence that Ant-man was fine and in full possession of his thoughts.

The Unicorn turned back to the crazed stone man who was throwing whatever he could in every direction. The heavier blocks of sidewalk he had hurled at the animated structure that was getting to its feet. On closer examination, that metal construction looked like an over-sized fish bowl mounted on top of a comic book-style large robot. She raised her eyebrows upon discovering that there was a man inside of the fish bowl.

She turned her attention once again to the oncoming minuscule air force. The Unicorn readied herself to launch an attack to back up the legion of insects. She was confident that her beloved knew which one of the two strange figures was the threat. Suddenly the "haze" had stopped advancing.

The heroine was taken aback by something that she found rather cute in the face of a dire circumstance. The insects began to form words. Evidently, Henry didn't have enough ants and wasps to finish his warning, but Yolanda knew that "get bac" was a message telling her to distance herself from the two beings.

She would comply. But her curiosity moved her to find out why the statute-man abandoned his sanity.

The Ant-man had halted his airborne combatants. He was concerned that Yolanda was caught between a dangerous, stony nutcase and a second, powerful-looking entity who could have been just as volatile.

He didn't want to devote his entire resources on assaulting the Grey Gargoyle's eyes only to leave Yolanda vulnerable to a potential attack coming from behind her.

Through his cybernetic impulses, Ant-man stationed his winged assembly into groups. He had them spell out a warning to the Unicorn. The width of the letters was thick, so as to be seen well. Ant-man discovered that he hadn't enough insects to finish the last letter in "get back." He could give up the first word to finish the second. But he winced at the thought that if there was a lull in the fighting, Yolanda would protest, Do you think I'm so stupid that I can't figure out the message without the k?

Well, maybe he did need that "K". He was surprised to see Yolanda glide towards the crazy Gargoyle. Still, she kept a good distance. She said something to the madman that sounded in Hank's ear like: Meh- s'your, cal-may voo, see voo play. Poo-qua et voo fa-shay?"

Author's note: The French words were NOT written as they would appear in French writings. They were written to reflect American Mid-States English in an attempt to achieve pronunciations as close as possible to the words. Here are further clarifications: "Et"—e as in edit. "Fa-shay"— fa as in far.

The Ant-man thought that she had probably said Sir, calm yourself, please. And she just barely finished the question, Why are you angry? Then she was cut off by the Gargoyle. Not surprisingly, the grey meta-being responded with words too fast and vehement for Hank to follow.

The young Russian linguist's reply was equally fast and emotionally charged.

The 1/16th of- an-inch hero became alarmed when the Gargoyle ran threateningly towards her. The Ant-man's forces sped forward to intercept the stone-man. Suddenly, the giant robot behind the Unicorn jumped up. With a backhanded sweep, it swatted the heroine away. Obviously, the man in control of the thing wanted a showdown with the Gargoyle; he saw the Unicorn merely as an insignificant obstacle in his way. Still, he hit her hard. That was something that Henry Pym wasn't going to take lightly. The Ant-man commanded a halt to most of his followers.

The Gargoyle had initially stopped in his tracks. When the Asian man hurled a challenge, the French terror eagerly accepted. Xu and Duval then raced towards each other. Before the two mighty figures could begin their battle, a thirty-foot Giant-man shockingly appeared between them. He was in the middle of a jump with his knees bent. As fast as a wink, his right foot shot out to the side to catch Duval's face and upper chest, while his left foot made contact with the robot man's torso. Both antagonists flew backwards because of the powerful kicks. Before gravity pulled him down, Giant-man just as abruptly disappeared.

The unshaken Unicorn flew back to the scene very amused. Her Henry had heroically responded to the attack upon her. She steadied herself in one spot preparing for an arrival on one of her shoulders. She didn't have to wait long.

"Don't let the Grey Gargoyle touch you." Ant-man said. "He'll transform you into"— Yolanda and Henry said the last two words together—"a statue."

"So that's him .… the Gargoyle?" Yolanda asked. But the Ant-man was no longer on her shoulder to give the answer that she already knew.

The Unicorn's eyes followed the grey brawler as he continued to bounce in the opposite direction. Yolanda had to laugh when he finally stopped— Duval's face was on the ground and his butt was in the air. She turned around when she heard Henry's voice loud and clear.

"You like hitting a woman?" Giant-man had reappeared in front of the huge fallen robot. The crimson hero continued, "And with her back to you? … Well, Mr. Courageous, I'm going to make sure you never do that again."

The Unicorn was well equipped to defend herself. Still, it thrilled Yolanda that Henry was wildly furious that she had been struck.

Giant-man's plan was simple: Lift the robot upside down and ram the domed area continually against the ground. Once it cracked, the wasps that had followed him into battle were going to have a field day on the coward inside of the plexiglass casing. But as Giant-man held the robot against his body and prepared to drop to one knee, the dizziness returned.

From his rooftop vantage point, the villain, Hawkeye, shot a second electronically charged arrow at Spider-man. Again the red-and blue adventurer dodged it. And something unexplainable happened. Something like a lightning bolt struck the street lamp that Spider-man had stood upon. Lightning in a sunny, nearly cloudless day?

Hawkeye instinctively closed his eyes when it flashed. Upon reopening them he saw that the lamp was destroyed. The hero, though, was on the ground, safe and sound. It was obvious that his electrocution arrow could never have generated that huge bright light. If it was a freak power surge from the lamp's electric current, it wasn't important to the masked man.

Barton angrily snarled, "F - - k it! That spider-sense thing wasn't bull sh – t, after all."

The frustrated archer would have to settle for the eventual reappearance of Giant-man. That may be the only sure way for him to obtain his prize …. a longer bedroom session with Natasha Romanov. Hawkeye had to control his temper and ready himself for the big jerk's appearing.

But there was one individual's presence that the masked man wasn't prepared for.

A surprised Clint Barton took two steps back in response to what was transpiring in front of him. A large cluster of sand came down from the sky. It became a man. … A man who Barton suddenly recognized from old newspaper photos.

"Yyyyour Flint Marko."

"Three cheers fer ya, bright boy. Wha'd'hell wuz dat about? … Wha' ever big street rep ya think yer gonna get, or however great ya already think ya are, stay atta dis. Spider-man is my nail ta hammer."

Clint recovered and replied. "Hey A - - hole, I was just"—Barton leaned forward—"tesssting my electrocution arrow." — he returned to an upright stand— "Spider-man wasn't my real target— just practice. But now that you're ordering me to back off, I won't.

"I don't take orders from anybody, least of all a talking sand box."

Sandman smirked and replied, "Oh, a f - - kin' Big Man, huh? … Well, no matter how much ya try, ya'll never be more of a man than yer momma.

"Get yer f - - kin' a – s atta here and don't come back until Halloween, masked man. If ya don't scat, I'll pound ya so hard dat people won't be able ta tell da difference between you-z an' dog sh – t. Come ta think of it, I'm havin' trouble tellin' da difference right now."

To emphasize how seriously the Sandman was about not tolerating interference, Marko transformed his hand into a hard mallet, half the size of Barton. He slammed it loudly and impressively down in front of the archer. The power display forced Hawkeye to jump back and crash against the wall of the neighboring building.

Seething with indignant anger, Hawkeye reached for an explosive arrow and pulled back on his bow. But the insulting Sandman had already granulated and he was surfing the wind towards his real foe.

The frustrated Barton had only his cusses to fall back on as consolation. "Who the f - - k does that pile of sh – t think he is? I'll break his motherf…. "

To Zhi Ming Xu, it felt like days ago when he strapped himself onto the chair of the Thinker's man-machine, in that fake delivery truck. Because of that act of precaution, Xu wasn't a mound of flesh and bone within the dome after Giant-man's savage kick had struck.

Presently, Xu helplessly watched the machine's legs spread in opposite directions as the robot uncontrollably rolled head-over- butt away from the Gargoyle and the crafty Giant-man. The bounces that the machine was subjected to were hard enough to rattle Xu's teeth.

The robot finally stopped, face down. The young communist was angrier than ever. He swore that the Avenger would pay dearly for this indignation. After finishing him off, he would utterly destroy the grey man.

The mechanical arms pushed the robot off of the ground. Xu didn't know why he looked away towards that other battle, but he did.

He saw that strange man with a crew cut— the man with shining eyes who had followed behind him into battle, and then suddenly stopped. The Caucasian's smile was broad and definable even from far away. The man's hands began to glow, but Xu could no longer be distracted from his enemy. From out of nowhere, Giant-man was upon him.

Giant-man yelled. Then miraculously, an all-consuming white flash appeared accompanied by an incredibly loud sound. The light caused the robot's manager to blink. That was just long enough to enable the accursed capitalist swine to lift him upside down.

The control panel was within Xu's reach. He was about to test his machine's arm strength by prying the arms of the imperialist pig away from him. Suddenly, the American dog was gone and his machine fell earthward. Strapped in or not, the impact still injured the young communist scientist.

The chair's shoulder straps held him in place. But having no restraint for his cranium, his head was still falling when the rest of his body had abruptly stopped. This caused a bad strain upon the neck portion of his spine. The huge metal man lay motionless for a minute, as the man within the robot tried to recover from the pain and disorientation.

Frederick Dukes— the Blob— rolled his way closer to the chaotic scene. In his heart he will always be a circus performer, but the excitement of the battle possessed him. There was an adrenaline-high that he hadn't experienced since the days when he fought against the X-men.

Dukes stopped to look at the action towards the south; there the mutants whom he remembered as "Quicksilver" and the "Scarlet Witch" were being carried off by that flying metal creature. Over to their right, Giant-man, that statue-thing, and a huge man-shaped machine all took turns tumbling on the ground.

Duke's fists were unconsciously pumping up and down in front of him. He was so involved with the action that he failed to notice the silent, almost zombie-like figure who was getting close to him. It was the one who Spider-man mockingly referred to as Mighty Mutt.

The quiet power house stopped more than an arm's length away from the Blob. He appeared to be analyzing the enormous, round, strange sight before him—was it human?

Instinctively feeling eyes upon him, the Blob turned around. He finally saw the emotionless stranger. At first, Dukes was started at seeing the man so close to him. Then, feeling like he was sneaked-up upon, he felt annoyed. He tried to hide his displeasure with a forced smile. When the stranger took a long step forward and stared at him with what Frederick considered an I'm-better-than-you look, the big man released his anger.

"What's your problem, d – ck face?"

The man in the tattered jumpsuit turned his body away. He appeared to have begun an attempt to walk around the Blob at a safe distance. Dukes mistakenly thought that he had stared down the stranger. That assumed triumph would soon be proven wrong.

The Blob heard a strange electric humming noise over his head and it continued to pass him. Brushing off the presumed scared man's presence, Duke's eyes darted up. Then, using his ear's navigation, Fred tried to follow the trail of the mysterious noise.

He once again was looking at the back of the head of the arrogant, but cowardly bastard. The man unexpectedly took a backwards step in the Blob's direction and speedily swung the hands that he had clamped together. The swing was faster that the eye could follow.

His wall-breaking, two-handed hammer blow connected to the left side of Frederick's head. Upon impact there was a loud, near-deafening sound. For a spit-second, all color fled the world around Frederick.

The blow was so strong that the rotund mutant found his head on the ground as he felt the rest of his body completed a cartwheel. When he landed on his hands and knees, he was facing the opposite direction of Second Avenue and his assailant.

THIS COULDN'T HAVE HAPPENED, his mind screamed in denial. Not even the Beast—the X-man with the strength of 30 men– had been able to floor him.

It took a few seconds for the Blob to clear his head and rekindle his anger. He was caught unaware by the tremendous, unearthly strength of the stranger. But Frederick was determined that it wasn't going to happen again.

As for that loud blast that made his ears ring, it could not have been due to the contact of hands-to-face. It sounded more like a lightning strike. Sure, … that must have been it. Frederick had also seen a great white light bathe his surroundings when the blow connected. Frederick wasn't going to compliment the jerk by attributing that visual effect to his fists.

And son-of-a-gun— when Frederick lifted his head from between his arms, his eyes were captured by the stem of a ruined lamppost. The last few sparks were flying out from its hollow opening. It was an electric explosion, of sorts. Question one was settled, now for question two— should he send D - -k Face to the hospital or the funeral home.

Fred turned his head to see the sucker-punching, dog-vomit continue his calm stroll towards Second Avenue. Suddenly, something or someone landed behind him, but that was inconsequential. Frederick Dukes was on a mission of ego-redemption.

From his hands and knees, the Blob reformed himself into a ball.

A while ago, the bomb inspection area had become a combat zone. Law enforcement was not only deployed for crowd control, but also to organize a coordinated response by the NYPD and FBI. In all the commotion— and before the barricades were set up— six gunmen side-winded their way into the area. Their sinister intention was to free one combatant from distractions.

Spider-man looked at the destroyed street lamp. Only one person could have done that and also release that blinding light. But it couldn't have been.

His spider-senses guided him to his right. A familiar face about half a block away gave him a mock salute and yelled, "Just a calling card, baby." He ended his taunt with a near melodic, "I'm baaack!"

With that, he turned. The man's arms reached up for the bridge's steel cables high above and to his left. The man rose up as if he was a helicopter.

Max Dillon—Electro— was out of prison. "Oh great," Spider-man said. "And now he can use electro-magnetism to get away."

But letting Dillon get away was what had to happen. The high voltage hurler wasn't hanging around for a fight and Mighty Mutt was still advancing towards the main intersection.

Spider-man took a forward leap and landed right behind the Blob. It wasn't one of his quieter landings. Spider-man wondered if the unresponsive Blob even heard him touch down. It would have been a great chance for him to turn around and ask for help from the amazing youth.

But apparently, the Blob wasn't the least bit interested in a tag-team partner. Instead, the mighty mutant rounded his body and shot forward as fast as a dragster. It was a maneuver that Peter had employed many times before. But now Peter had to admit that with the extra speed that his body's roundness gave the Blob, that move belonged to the mutant.

He should have called out to the guy, but something told Spider-man to hold tight and only offer help if the Blob actually needed it.

The mountainous mutant stopped behind Mighty Mutt and lunged for the back of the stranger's ankle. The Blob immediately got up to his feet, causing the stranger to go down face first.

Spider-man smiled; great minds think alike. So…. Let's see what the big guy can do.

When Frederick Dukes reached his target, the spherical dynamo dove for his foe's heel. The silent figure who had hurled a soda delivery truck at policemen was, himself, hopelessly lifted up into the air.

The angry Blob proceeded to swat him against the ground. It was a continuous motion, like an after-school cartoon show. The stranger hit the ground to Frederick's right; then he was whipped over the man-mountain's head; the silent power house landed on his face to the Frederick's left; and then he was taken up and back to the Blob's right.

After nearly twenty seconds, Fred let go of his catch in mid-swing. The d - -k face went sailing and almost hit ….. Spider-man?

"What in hell was he doing here?" Fred asked himself.

Spider-man straightened his body to an upright position. The wall-crawler then held up his hands in an attempt to slow down the Blob.

"Outta my way," Dukes hollered as he ran by the young hero.

The Blob's strength had allowed his opponent to land a good distant away. Naturally, he was able to sit up before Fred could reach him. "NO YA DON'T!" Frederick yelled.

The mutant strong man needed the jerk to be flat on the ground for his next feat. Frederick Dukes picked up the nearest thing to him— a tire that had fallen away from a damaged police car. He threw it with all his might.

The car wheel hit its target with an indescribable force that would have overturned a city bus. The thunderous sound was still echoing through the air when the tire bounced off the stranger and sped away like a rocket. The silent fighter's upper body smashed backwards to the ground just as Fred had anticipated. The impact also caused his body to skid away an extra 70-plus feet. That provided an unexpected benefit for the Blob, who was building up a head of steam in his body-roll.

The confrontation between the two strong men would have lasted longer had the Blob not made a tactical mistake. When he got close enough, the round power-pack unrolled his body just when his feet hit the ground. The Blob leaped up. In attempting to land upon his enemy and squash him under his weight, the mutant Non-Hulk Hulk also surrendered his most essential mutant power. In the face of a threat, his feet could mysteriously cement themselves to any ground he stood upon.

Right then, his leap awarded the mutant's feet only air to grasp. On the other hand, the stranger's feet were awarded with the Blob's large stomach. With bent knees, the downed strongman's feet received his opponent's bulk. Quicker than a cobra could strike, he straightened his legs. With the added strength of his upper body— as evidenced when only the stranger's shoulder was touching the floor—the quiet combatant kicked the round revenge-seeker away. The Blob flew and bounced a very long distance. Imprisoned in this speedy backwards travel, Frederick was angry at himself for not seeing that coming.

He was unhurt when he finally stopped twenty yards away from a strange sight. When Frederick's feet contacted the ground to halt his movement, he saw that giant metal thing fall on its head. Fred was burning inside for a rematch with his own foe. But he wasn't so possessed that a question couldn't quickly pass his mind: That fall that the metal man had, was it supposed to scare his enemies or make them laugh?

Barton was so consumed by his rage that he almost missed seeing the red-garbed Avenger. Giant-man had held the metal man upside down. Perfect!

Hawkeye only had the grenade arrow stretched across his bow. He reached behind his head to take out the acid-head arrow from his quiver, but then decided that he would use the weapon that was ready. That momentary delay was enough to allow Giant-man to disappear again. The metal man went down hard.

Clint Barton cursed and slapped his right thigh in rage once again. The tree-sized bastard will turn up again, Hawkeye was sure of it. Meanwhile to ease his frustration, Hawkeye wanted to either blast that hovering metal big-boob female, or turn back to Spider-man as a dare for Marko to confront the archer again.

Spider-man was the better choice— finishing off the metal broad would tip Giant-man that another menace was close by. Hawkeye had to rely on the hunter's advantage of surprise. Shooting at the distant Spider-man was the safest route to take in order to remain undetected.

Seconds ago she had heard a thunder clap and the great, short-lived light. She dismissed it as another erratic weather feature of a New York summer. The Unicorn had a bigger concern.

Paying no attention to the hunk of junk that had previously stuck her from behind, Yolanda flew to where Giant-man once stood. He had the robot dangling upside down and then …

Did he suffer another dizzy spell? Did he injure himself lifting the heavy robot? She had to find out.

She spoke into her helmet to activate a homing devise that could pick up the cybernetic helmet of Ant-man. Inside of her face mask, above her right eye were mounted three thin, but powerful magnifying glasses. The first had the amplified view of the best binocular; the second, of the best mobile telescope; the last— the one that she chose to drop over her right eye— had the 90-times magnification feature of a microscope.

She found the Ant-man some yards from where he was last seen. He was sitting down on an ant, with his hands covering his eyes. Still possessing the strength of 30 horses, the Unicorn effortlessly and gingerly scooped up the ground around her beloved and the ant.

"Henry, dearest, are you're still dizzy?" Only after those words left her mouth did she realize that she had released two syllables that could cause her embarrassment—"dearest."

But he looked so out-of-it that he probably didn't hear the word. But even if he did, the awkwardness that she would have suffered was secondary to her desire to protect him and get him away from the battle.

Ignoring her question, the Ant-man asked his own— Where were the Robot-man and the Gargoyle? Only after she responded that they were down, did he answer her inquiry.

"I just need some time." He said. "You shouldn't concentrate on me and let your guard down."

In an ironic turn, he expressed a concern that mirrored Yolanda's distress — "Get yourself and the girls to safety. I'll take it from here."

"Not for all the money in the world, Mr. Pym," she replied in anger. "We're a team. If I leave, you will, also."

"I don't believe this. You are just too stubborn for your own good."

"Then we're a match, aren't we? I guess the two stubborn mules will have to look after each other. We don't have time to argue this point. We'll just have to settle on devising a team plan for conquest. It can't be too hard. Not against these two apparent simpletons."

She lifted off the ground to avert a surprise attack from the men she was speaking about. Suddenly, a round-shaped being bounced into the scene.

To Yolanda, he looked unhurt, but very ang- Wait, is that the Blob?

She stiffened a little and aimed the repulsor disc on her free hand.

Not knowing what to expect, the Unicorn also kept an eye on the police van where the two teenage girls hid themselves.

The Ant-man was still in her hand, so he hadn't notice the newcomer. The Unicorn wanted to withhold that information until the Blob actually instigated something. Why stir up the weaken Henry Pym unnecessarily?

The Ant-man continued, "I don't know about the Asian fellow, but the Gargoyle is not a dummy."

"Eh .. What did you two say to each other?"

Yolanda responded, "I just wanted to calm him down and he called me many things, including a whore-dog. I lost my composure and called him a dirty, dangling pig testicle that was only good at being covered with feces that came out of the end of the hog that looked like his face."

He asked, "And that's when he charged towards you? I wonder why?" Henry then tilted his head back laughed. He seemed to temporarily forget their dire situation. But it was good that he had recovered from his lightheadedness.

"And you gloriously came to my defense" Yolanda replied before joining in the laughter.

"Yes, I did. But looking back, I don't know if you need defending— well, certainly not verbally. Wow, you're a wild cat."

"You disapprove?" she asked fearlessly— she already knew his response, judging from his hearty laugh.

"Are you kidding? I'm only sorry that we only spoke about inventions and intellectual pursuits, and I almost forgot this hilarious side of you."

"Annd business partnership'" she added.

"How could I forget that? Vanko and Pym, Inc."

This wasn't the time to argue that she wanted his name first on the company logo. It was comforting enough to look forward to the day when her plan produced fruit and the corporation's name would be simply, Pym, Inc.; …. and Mrs. Yolanda Pym would be President and Administrative Manager.

The duo's mutual felling of warmth had to be put aside as both heroine and hero knew that the fight wasn't over.

What they didn't know was that the Gargoyle was right behind the nearest overturned police car to the van. Being on its side the vehicle provided good cover.

What a fool that metal bitch was to had turned her back to him. Duval was planning to make one more dash and make it to the police van. From that close range he could execute his victory on both of the idiots.

"Oh well," Spider said. "That was exciting while it lasted."

The Blob had put up a better fight than Peter had expected. When the Blob took the stranger by his heel and swung him, Peter smiled— it was the same body part of the mutt that Spider-man aimed for. But, unfortunately, due to either lack of battle skills or overconfidence, the Blob was bounced far away by the stranger's two-legged kick.

That wasn't to say that the powerful Non-Hulk Hulk wouldn't return for another round. Spider-man still didn't know if the rotund mutant had fighting experience. And if he came back while Peter stayed on the sidelines, it wouldn't be right.

Two leaps later, the amazing youth was right behind the silent power house. Spider-man upended him with a mighty side-sweep of his powerful right leg. His face hit the ground hard for the umpteenth time. Standing over him, Spider-man thought that he might extend his, eh, sympathy.

'Wassa-matter, boobish-ky? Do you have that run down feeling where your face just constantly kisses the ground? Does it leave your mouth with that nasty soil-taste? Has it gone on so long that the worms now know you on a first name bases? Have people begun asking you why don't you just rent yourself out as an outdoor carpet?

And for that reason had your wife left your home a month ago saying she was going out to pick up Chinese take-out… the take-out came to your door fifteen minutes later, but she hasn't yet?

"Is that what's bothering you, puddin' pie?"

He never got his answer. From a kneeling position the stranger leaped upon him. With lighting reaction, Spider-man went down to a crouched position as his foe sailed over him. Spider-man turned around in time to see the silent stranger hit the ground once more.

"There you go again, buttercup. Let's seriously think about a career change. Why don't you stay down there? I'll place some patio furniture on top of you, and we'll see how you look?"

The strong man jumped up and advanced towards Spider-man.

Great! At least he was heading away from Second Avenue. The youth backtracked until they were both approximately where they had started. The soda truck that Mighty Mutt had thrown previously was Spider-man's marker.

Spider-man spun his right foot around himself with blinding speed. The foot came around to make contact with the mutt's jaw. The incredible force would have smashed a solid metal door. It had enough force to shoot the powerful stranger's head back and push his whole body away. His backward travel looked eerie. His back remained parallel to the ground. His knees were bent like a baseball catcher, while his toes refused to surrender its contact with the ground. Finally, the mutt began slowing down.

"Hmm, he'll probably stop at thirty-five feet," Spiderman remarked when he saw the length of the skid marks made by his enemy's cheap shoes. "The Blob's tire-in-the face-trick was more impressive."

When the stranger stopped, his knees hit the ground. His butt rested on his heels. His back was still elevated a few inches off the ground. Two seconds later, he brought his torso upright. That unchanged, expressionless face sent a new chill into the heroic teenager.

The zombie-like strong man leaped forward with a jump that even Peter would have been proud to call his own. This time Spider-man decided that he would not dodge him. His fist would meet his opponent's face as a reward for his quick recovery.

A tremendous right cross had jerked the strangers face away just as his right hand had grasped Spider-man's neck. The incredible force behind Spider-man's punch had sent the recipient flipping in the air. The fact that the stranger had not surrendered his grip on the youth resulted in Spider-man also leaving his feet. Once again the two spun in the air. The stranger made one complete spin to get his feet onto the blacktop. With his new leverage, he then rammed the crusader's body down to the ground with a loud, punishing smash.

Peter kicked up both knees so fast that a trained eye would have judged their the speed at Mark 4. He connected to his foe's derriere and sent him sailing over Peter's head.

Spider-man was glad that his neck was freed before the powerhouse had a chance to squeeze tighter. There were bad aches on his throat, just under his ears. That was where the stranger began to increase pressure.

But it didn't compare to the rising back pain that made him recognize the amazing force begind the powerful throw-down. And damn, THE PAIN WAS GETTING BAD!

Inside of the police van, Loran felt frustrated. That feeling emboldened her to try to take a peek at what was happening outside. She didn't expect the same from Tabby. The younger girl was scared stiff— not that Lorna wasn't. But unlike the 13-year-old, if something bad was going to happen, she wanted to see it coming.

Lorna Dane made it to the front. She peered through the wide windshield. Her eyes darted left and right. It all appeared quiet. She decided to take a chance. She reached for the door handle, not knowing that there was someone just behind her.

"What are you doing?" Tabby spoke up, scaring Lorna.

"Shh. I want to see what's outs-"

"You heard the metal lady. She said don't open that door."

"Right. That sliding door. She didn't mention anything about the driver's door."

"You're crazy."

"And you're a scar— well, all right—a bigger scaredy-cat than me."

Tabby retreated deeper into the body of the van understanding that she was the sane one of the two.

Lorna had managed to slowly open the door a third of the way when she saw something behind a cop car that was on its side.

It was monstrously ugly and... "OH MY GOD, IT'S LOOKING BACK AT ME!"