SPIDER-MAN: TEN SECONDS, ISSUE 2

We begin this chapter with Spider-Man web-swinging through the city, only now, it is not so glorious. It has been over a week since he decided to be on the job 100% of the time. He has not showered, slept, or changed his costume in all that time, and the only food he has eaten is what he can grab on the run. He has only been back to his apartment when he needs more web cartridges, and even then he is in and out as fast as possible, for fear of someone else paying the ultimate price for his delay. Needless to say, he is exhausted, but he doesn’t let that stop him.

“Shoot. I’m almost out of web fluid, but I haven’t finished my patrol yet. I can stay out longer if I conserve it by running and jumping from building to building instead of web swinging. That should at least get me through the rest of this round before starting over again.”

He lands on the nearest rooftop and begins his run-and-jump through the rest of his route. Soon it pays off.

“HELP!”

“I told you to shut up!”

Once Spider-Man hears this, he is in the alley like a bullet. He makes quick work of the would-be mugger, punching him out and webbing him to the wall. No jokes, no sarcasm, and before the woman can say “thank you”, Spider-Man is gone. He is back to the rooftops to look for his next potential victim to save.

After more exhausting running-and-jumping, Spider-Man finally gets back to his apartment. He bolts I through the window and goes right to where his web-cartridge stash is.

“Oh man, this last batch is all that’s left. I guess I should keep running and jumping from building to building. It’s much more tiring, but I’ve got to conserve these since they’re my last. I haven’t figured out how I can make more since in the time it would take me to mix up a new batch, people could be dying. I’ve already wasted too much time here as it is. I should grab some food for the road and take off.”

He drops the cartridges on the kitchen table and begins rummaging through the fridge. While he is doing that, the phone rings, which at first he ignores. However, once the machine picks up and he hears Aunt May’s voice, he lifts his head up out of the fridge.

“Hello, Peter, are you there?”

“Maybe I should answer it… No. In the time it would take, someone could die.”

He slams the fridge door closed, taking with him whatever he happened to have in his hand at that moment, without even checking to see if it is still good (P.S. it isn’t). He swipes the web cartridges from the kitchen table and dives out the window, going out on patrol again.

“Peter, please pick up if you’re there. I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a week and I am worried. Peter, if there is something wrong or if you’re in trouble, I hope you know that you can always talk to me about it. Well, please call me as soon as possible to let me know you’re all right. I love you, Peter.”


Aunt May hangs up the phone, thinks for second, picks it up again and dials a new number. After a moment she says, “Yes, hello, I’d like to make an appointment. It’s rather complicated; I’d prefer to just explain when I get there. Yes, thank you. It’s May Parker. Ok, I’ll see you then. Thank you, goodbye.”


A few days later, we catch up with an even worse-off wall-crawler. He ate the rotten food from his fridge, giving him food poisoning, which normally, wouldn’t affect him this bad. However, with the lack of nourishment and rest, it hit him almost as hard as it would the rest of us. (You can imagine for yourself what it’s like trying to deal with vomiting and diarrhea in that costume.) By this point his costume is starting to look a little loose on him, due to a loss of weigh and muscle mass.

Still using his running and jumping method, he comes to a gap in buildings that he cannot leap in a single bound. After running and jumping as far as he can, he relies on his trusty right-hand-web-shooter to take him the rest of the way… and it fails. It takes him a second to realize he shot a blank. He franticly tries it a few more times, but it is completely empty. He tries his left-hand one, which does shoot a web-line, but now he is taken by surprise and off balance. He is able to hold on to the web line, but without being able to shoot a web-line from his right hand, or switch hands and shoot another web-line from his left hand (remember, he’s sick) to stabilize himself; he just ends up slamming into the side of the building. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he climbs his way to the top of the building that he just crashed into and assesses the situation.

“This is my absolute last web-cartridge. I should switch it to my right hand, since if I’m only going to have one, it should be on my dominant hand.” While he is doing that, he hears a scream.

He jumps of the building and on his way down, looks for the source of the scream, which he soon finds. There is a car-jacking taking place, but instead of the driver getting out, the car-jacker made her move to the passenger seat. At first, Spider-Man follows the car, web-swinging with his one web-shooter, while he figures out what to do.

“I don’t want to hurt the woman, so I can’t just swing in the side window feet first and kick the driver. I also can’t just slam down on the hood, smash the windshield and jerk the wheel. She probably doesn’t have her seatbelt on, so I should slow the car down gradually. I also don’t want him to freak out and shoot her. Ok, first priority is to disarm him. I’ve got it!”

Spider-Man lands, clinging to the side of the car. This surprises the car-jacker, so he points his gun at Spider-Man, as he hoped. Spider-Man webs up the gun and gives him a quick punch to the face, knocking him unconscious.

“Put it in neutral!” he screams at the woman. When he sees that she does, he leaps from the car. “Please, God, let me have enough left,” he thinks. While flipping through the air he shoots a web-line at the driver’s side rear fender, which he quickly takes it in his left hand, and then does the same to the roof, trunk, passenger’s side rear fender, and once he lands, the same to the rear axle. Making sure he has a good grip on the web-lines in his left hand, he plants his feet and right hand to the street. The web-line stretches and starts to become taught, then tight as he strains against the weight and speed of the car. It gradually comes to a stop, at which point he releases his hold on the ground.

Still holding onto the webs he walks, on uneasy legs, to the car, it’s engine still revving. He opens the driver’s side door, and pulls the car-jacker out. The engine idles down, now that his foot is no longer on the gas. Considerate until the end, Spider-Man gets in, presses the brake, puts the car in park, and turns off the engine. To conserve webbing, he wraps the car-jacker up in the webbing he used to stop the car. As the woman finally gets herself together enough to come say “thank you”, Spider-Man crawls up a lamppost and hops to the nearest building top.

His arms and legs are like rubber, but still he presses on, making his way back to his patrol route. After a few leaps from building to building, he comes to another huge gap. Without thinking, he launches himself as far across as he can, and aims his web-shooter to do the rest. It shoots about four feet of webs followed by nothing but air, like an emptied silly-string can. He falls, barely even having the energy to flail. He hits a fire-escape which bounces him to the adjacent building and he slides down the wall to finally land in a dumpster; bloody, broken and unconscious.


The next day, Aunt May walks into a waiting room.

The receptionist asks, “May I help you?”

“Yes, I have an appointment. My name is May Parker.”

“Ah yes, Mrs. Parker, go right in.”

“Thank you.”

“Hello Mrs. Parker, what can I help you with?” asks the man behind the desk.

“My nephew Peter needs your help, Mr. Murdock. Or should I say, Spider-Man needs your help, Daredevil.”

TO BE CONTINUED…