SPIDER-GIRL 8: Killshot
***
Mayday was steamed, to begin with.
It wasn’t so much that this Killshot guy was clearly taking the piss
with this jetpack of his – just out of her reach all the time, and she knew he
could go faster so why was she trying anyway – more that when she’d managed to
snarl it’s exhaust up with webbing it actually hadn’t made a blind bit of
difference. The webbing seemed to still be in place, thickly coating the
exhaust, but a flame was still coming through and Killshot was going as fast as
ever. How the hell was that possible?
“What are you doing?” she yelled. Killshot didn’t reply. “Isn’t it supposed to be now that we have a random chat where you tell me what you’re up to?”
Killshot laughed. “Winning.”
May paused for a moment, atop a flagpole, to let that sink in.
“Sorry, you what?”
“I’m winning, girly girl,” the armoured mercenary said, stopping and
turning to face her. “What I always – hey!”
Turning had been a mistake; now he was stationary and in range, his
face was a perfect target for a spray of webbing.
“Funny thing, Spider-Man told me,” she said. “About the bad guys in
armour, with transparent faceplates. Never install windscreen wipers, so the
webbing stays. Did you make the same mistake?”
“Sort of,” Killshot said, and raised an arm. Mayday got that old-time
itch, and leapt…
The blast from Killshot’s wrist-cannon shattered the flagpole and blew
a chunk out of the hotel it was attached to. “I did install sound-sensitive
targeting.”
May settled into her position on the side of another building and tried
another webbing trick; building it up into a net hurtling toward the target.
Hell, it had worked for her dad in the past… why wouldn’t it work now?
And the answer was, of course, that it kind of did, except that the net
just hit, draped over him, and then kinda hung there. What with Killshot not
being attached to anything the web could anchor him to, it didn’t really help.
She caught on to this pretty quickly, and fired another line, intending
to attach him to a building and see whether her webs were stronger than his
jets or not, except that he fired them up again too early and got out of it’s
way.
May swore, wondered if her father ever did that on duty, decided that
he probably did it whenever there wasn’t a reporter watching him, fired off yet
another webline – this time for travelling purposes – and launched herself into
pursuit. Not that she expected said pursuit to be much use; the guy could go
faster than her, which was the problem…
So why the hell wasn’t she thinking about this the right way?
***
Hanging upside-down from the second floor (mostly because she could)
using a public telephone:
“Dad, how do I get in touch with the Green Goblin?”
“Urgent, or just in general?”
“Bit of both, I guess,” she said. “I don’t think he’s gonna be in time
to help this time around.”
“Killshot?”
“Yeah. How did you deal with guys you couldn’t keep up with?”
“I got the drop on them, mostly… God, that’s a weird thing to say to
your daughter.”
“Hate to break it to you, Dad, but superheroes breed dysfunctionality.”
“Or you could web up his thrusters.”
“Done that. Didn’t work.”
“Really? That’s strange… I’d have a word with Reed Richards then. Consulting
other heroes can pay dividends.”
“Yeah, Dad, but you know all these guys.”
A chuckle. “Give it time, honey. And Johnny Storm, at the very least,
should be willing to have a word…”
“OK, thanks, dad, but I think I’ll try the Green Goblin.”
“Why?”
“’Cause he’s about twice as likely to be in New York at any given time?
How do I get in touch with him? I’m not ringing Phil at home. Does Merry know
about all this?”
“OK, calm down…”
***
It was official now. Killshot had pissed Mayday off, and that was only
half his fault. The other half was this McGee…
She ran out of words she was going to let herself think about him.
***
Michael McGee reports:
Not consorting with mutants this time; but does that really matter? A
list, folks:
Spider-Man
Spider-Woman
Spider-Woman
Scarlet Spider
Spider-Girl
Spider-Girl
Venom
The Punisher
Solo
It’s a longish list, and you’ll notice there’s two of a number of them;
and while admittedly the Spider-Women went on to prove themselves, ironically
they’re arguably less connected to the first character on the list than those
who don’t take his name, like the Punisher and Venom. It’s also only those of
webbed connection who set themselves up to be heroes – you won’t find
Hobgoblins, Lizards, or the Doctors Octopus on here. That, after all, might
easily be considered to prejudice the case. Which doesn’t need it, does it?
I mean, look at that lot. Spider-Man and the Scarlet Spider were, in
their day, fairly comprehensively covered by this esteemed publication, as were
Venom, Punisher, and Solo – though of course their careers lasted; all but Solo
are still ongoing, and he died only last year. I won’t trouble you with a
repetition of what they each did; it’s all on microfiche at the offices, and
the librarians will let you in for free. And I don’t have as many words as I’d
like.
The first Spider-Girl… well, we don’t exactly know that much about her.
But she did seem to be mixed up in a number of weird incidents. And, of course,
she kicked off her career by stealing a costume designed by the dear departed
Janet Van Dyne. For you young’uns out there actually developing an interest in
current affairs, Miss Van Dyne was of course a founder member of the Avengers
as the Wasp. Impressed?
Thought so.
So we’re loving our Spider-folk so far, aren’t we? Ain’t they nice
people?
And now we’ve got our latest addition. With her costume the way it is,
and her powers, there can be absolutely no doubt that she’s connected to our
first man. The guy at the heart of it
all. Spider-Man. And just like her, ahem, illustrious forebear, she’s already
tearing it up with acknowledged good guys (the Bugle of the seventeenth July 1997 is an excellent example of this)
and destroying choice property.
Thank God for Damage Control.
***
But that, of course, didn’t mean she couldn’t drop in and see him.
***
Michael McGee wrote from his apartment and emailed it in, most days;
the perks of op ed, even if suddenly his columns were going front page – New
York publishing’s strange fascination with the webbed man who’d helped kick off
the age of heroes and his legacy, admittedly, but it still boosted McGee’s pay.
His writing desk was by the window, and that window opened onto an –
admittedly small – balcony.
It was open today.
This was perhaps a mistake.
“OK, Jameson. What’s your secret? How do you make yourself look so
youthful? And why the name change, anyway?”
McGee started at the voice from an utterly unexpected direction.
Glancing out of the window, he beheld Spider-Girl standing upside down on the
floor of the balcony above his.
“Wh-what are you-“
“Mind if I come in? Thanks so much.” She did something somewhere in
between a somersault and a sideways twist, landing upright on his carpet facing
him.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr McGee. I’m your current meal ticket, and this
beef wants to settle your hash.”
Mixed metaphors, McGee’s mental editor noted, but that didn’t go any
way toward dealing with the situation.
“You can’t come in here! There are privacy laws, you know…”
“Yeah, but since you already figure I’m a criminal…” She shrugged. “Oh,
hey, you writing something? This for the paper? Can I read?” She took a couple
of steps forward, and McGee hit Alt and F4.
“Uh, it’s still on screen,” she said. “It’s just asking you if you want
to save it…” He could swear he could make out a smile beneath the mask. “Just
so you know.”
He swallowed involuntarily.
“Aww, it’s about li’l ol’ me,” she continued merrily. “Ain’t that
sweet? Are you telling tales out of class again, Mikey?”
“…What?” he spluttered.
“That didn’t even make sense!”
She shrugged. “Maybe not,” she said. “So?”
“So… Look, what are you doing here?”
“Trying to figure out the answer to a puzzle,” she said. “That puzzle
being, are you seriously convinced I’m a bad girl,” and here she paused, and
leaned forward slightly, “or are you just faking it to sell your by-line?”
The journalist was silent for a minute, then returned her gaze. “I
genuinely believe,” he said, “that I and the city would be better off without
you.”
“Mee-yow!” May exclaimed, taking a step backward. “Odd choice of words
there, Mikey, but I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong. Catch you later…”
And with that, she turned around, jumped the balcony wall, and vanished
from sight.
***
On a gargoyle.
May sat with a leg dangling either side of the stone beast, thirty
stories up, staring out toward the suburbs where her view could remain
unbroken. Beside her, the Green Goblin hovered on his glider, arms folded.
“…I see,” he said. “Well, I know enough to take a Parker’s word over
the Bugle, but it has to be said; Killshot has been on our side, pretty much,
up until now. Mercenary with most of the parts needed for a working conscience.
We both know the stereotype.”
Mayday nodded sullenly. Seemed like the only thing to do. “He still did
it,” she said.
“In that case, I’m gonna have to guess that someone hired him to. But
that won’t stop me taking him down if I catch him.”
“But you won’t be going out of your way to do it.”
“I’m afraid not,” the Goblin said. “Sorry, May, but I just can’t
justify turning the Warriors to it. And they have to come first.”
“I was kinda expecting that,” she said. “Don’t worry about it, Uncle
Phil. I’ve got to start acting like a big girl, anyway.”
She stood, leaned across, and delivered the Goblin’s mask a peck on the
cheek, mediated through two costumes. And then she fired a webline. “I’ll catch
you around.”
Phil Urich watched her go, and sighed. “Parkers…”
***
Meeting with Brad was a little easier. There was no Meredith-equivalent to
worry about; his entire family was superhuman, as close as Mayday could figure.
Which meant no skulking needed; particularly when one of them had TK as strong
as the Hulk could hit… if he got pissed off enough.
Most people aren’t going to try to kidnap your family for leverage when
you’re in that kind of position.
Plus Mayday had his address.
“I’m taking Killshot down,” she said. “It’s basically that simple. You
in?”
“I owe him too,” Brad said, and shrugged. “Sure.”
May looked at him. “I sense a little… disinterest.”
“I, uh… I was kinda hoping this was going to be a different
conversation.”
May nodded. The kiss. No question. “I kinda want to have that
conversation myself,” she said. “But I want to clear my slate first. The good
thing about being a newcomer; I actually can clear out the workload and not
worry about revenge attacks for now.”
Brad’s face still looked uncertain, worried, slipping closer to upset.
“Well… I guess I understand that…”
Mayday was suddenly very glad he couldn’t see her face under the mask.
If he could see her own expression, a mirror to his, then they’d just skip
Killshot and move on to a decidedly more serious conversation. A discussion of
lives.
She shook her head, fought internally against the cracking of her
voice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this looks like I’m just using you to get
Killshot. I promise we’ll have that talk as soon as he’s gone. And I promise
I’m not just gonna blow you off when we have it. OK?”
A little more cheerful at that. He even managed to muster up a grin,
though it was a grin with a certain amount of falseness to it. “...Yeah. OK.”
May nodded, businesslike. Webs for business, face for pleasure. “Good.”
***
LETTERCOL:
Megan Curtis, folks, writer of Witches for UM Startling and the
esteemed SHIELD at MRev. Both well worth checking out.
Ok it took awhile to find,
Blame Hickson. I do.
but I just read your spider-girl issues.
Hey, Jim, someone’s reading ‘em!
All I can say is awww! How cool
is May? She's the bomb, I really like her, you'd think you were a teenage girl
the way you write her character,
Definitely blame Hickson.
you've got it to a T, except
she probably would have worried about how she looked in the Spidey outfit when
she first put it on.
Well, I didn’t want to write that sort of thing. I worry about just
making it look like a stereotyped image of a girl played for laughs, so I
missed it.
I love Bruce too, all I can say is awwwww! Can they hook up and
make little radioactive babies?
They seem to be trying. I think Peter’d go ballistic if he found out.
I still don't get who Bruce's
mom was... I don't follow Hulk in anyshape or form, so i'm clueless, but maybe
that's what you want out of us.
Bruce’s mother is in no way part of the Hulk mythos. She is, however,
connected with a very depressed member of the Defenders seen herein. Any
guesses, folks?
Oh, that Michael McGee reporter is a real jerk, ditch him. Jeeze if I
ever talked to him i'd give him a piece of my mind! =)
Well, I think May’s got his measure now.
Glad to hear it.