Curse of Arachnaman Read online

  "Dad, is that another one of those hokey horror movies from the ‘60s or something?” I asked once I'd gotten comfortable on the couch, sitting with my legs crossed under me and hugging a big, plump throw pillow against my chest. Even the smell of old fabric with a bit of dust made me feel better.

  Dad scratched his head while aiming the controls at the TV to adjust its volume. “This one's a real gem from the late ‘50s, actually. Haven't you seen this one?"

  I shook my head. “Nope. Unless it freaked me out so much when I was a little kid and made me pass out."

  "Oh, gosh, I wouldn't go that far."

  "It's that hokey, huh? What's it called?"

  "Attack of the Giant Leeches."

  I grinned. “I like it already."

  Dad shifted and sat back, sighing contentedly. “I thought you would. Just wait till you see the leeches."

  * * * *

  "Eric, wake up."

  I said something. Most likely cussed out whoever was trying to mess up my sleep.

  "I'm going to ignore what you just said to me, mister,” Mom said, her voice getting clearer by the second. “Come on, get up. You need to sleep in your bed, not down here."

  "Wh...huh?” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes as I struggled to get up from the couch. “Whrum I?” God, I hated waking up when my brain wasn't ready for consciousness. I finally sat up and realized that I still held on to the throw pillow. Blinking the fog from my eyes, I groped around for my glasses and found them on my lap. “Sorry, Mom."

  Mom just ruffled my hair and sat down next to me. “The late news is on. Honey, turn up the volume, please."

  "They probably have that crazy spider guy in the headlines,” Liz said. She'd taken her place on the floor, while my parents and I shared the couch.

  "I slept through your movie, Dad,” I said, running a hand through my hair. I glanced at him and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. Did the leeches die?"

  "I don't like giving out spoilers, son. You'll have to watch it all over again to find out,” Dad replied. He actually sounded kind of smug about that.

  "Shhh! Here it is!” Liz said. We all fell silent as the news began.

  After the initial introductions, yadda, yadda, Bambi Bailey finally came on. Her segment was recorded after the battle, obviously, because it was still light, though the rain kept everything pretty gray. She reported under an umbrella, and behind her was a mess of police activity. I wouldn't be exaggerating to say that it was the busiest I'd seen of a crime area that had been captured on camera. Cop cars packed the street behind her. There was at least one fire truck nearby, and amid the gray wetness were the disco-ish flashes of red and yellow lights from all emergency and police vehicles.

  Ms. Bailey pretty much summed up what I'd seen that afternoon, though at times I wanted to butt in and tell her how much worse things really were. My parents were around, though, and I didn't want them to know that I stood on the roof in the rain, risking my health and my safety by watching Arachnaman get taken down by the heroes.

  Sergeant Bone was interviewed, as were a couple of other officers and some regular Joe Blows who witnessed the fight from their apartments.

  "While it's true that Arachnaman is now in police custody, Vintage City's still not free of his plan to take down what he considers to be undesirable elements,” Ms. Bailey said, a slight crease forming between her brows. She paused, and the camera switched over to another scene, this time the police station, where Arachnaman was being held.

  I stared at the TV, wide-eyed. The camera focused on Arachnaman, himself. He was in costume, just like every other supervillain. His bodysuit was in a really bright red shade that shimmered a little in the light. His face gave me the creeps. He didn't wear a mask, but that part of his costume was just this oval nothingness. It was black, but it didn't shimmer or give off any indication as to its material, no matter how the light hit it. It looked as though it absorbed all light. There were no eyes, nose, or mouth anywhere. It was like staring at a void in the middle of his head. When he raised his hands, I saw that they were in chains, and they were also covered in black gloves of probably the same material as the mask, and the fingers were shaped like spider legs.

  "You might all think that you've got the better of me,” he said, his voice sounding pretty young and also robotic. I felt my skin prickle. He couldn't be older than any of my friends. All that destruction done by a teenager? I couldn't wrap my mind around it. “But you haven't. You never will."

  He chuckled when he paused, shifting on his chair to make himself more comfortable. I heard the clanking of chains when he did. It was so surreal. “Don't bet on it. For now, I'm here, but you can't hide from me. I'm around you still. I am you, you know. I'm that tiny part of you that you don't want to acknowledge because you just can't face up to that small but important fact about yourself.” He laughed this time. “Now...as far as what that small but important fact is, I'll leave it to you to figure out. Vintage City people aren't stupid."

  The camera shifted back to Ms. Bailey, who prattled on about the fight between Arachnaman and the heroes. I glanced at Mom and Dad, both of whom looked puzzled and nervous.

  "He's psychotic,” I offered, which earned me some vague shaking of their heads, but they still didn't seem to really hear me. With that, I got up and said goodnight to everyone. I hoped to check up on Peter the next day.

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  Chapter 24

  * * * *

  I couldn't talk to Peter long. He was fine, he said, and had to tell me about a gazillion times not to mess around with that girl if we ever crossed paths again. Somehow I felt that we would, but I supposed I should show a lot more restraint than she had.

  "She might be having some major problems at home,” Peter said. “If anything, I feel kind of sorry for her."

  I sighed. “Yeah, I guess you're right. I promise I'll be more understanding if we ever see each other. But if she tries to pull something like that again just to get your attention and then hurts you in the process? Hell, no, I—"

  "Eric?” Peter cut in. “Do it for me, please?"

  Damn! I had to take a few breaths before I could speak again. “Okay, okay. Just remember, though, if the tables were turned, and I was hurt by someone stalking me, I'm sure you wouldn't think twice about raising all kinds of hell. And you've got the superpowers to do it, too."

  "I know,” he said, laughing. “That's why I'm glad it's happening to me instead."

  I shook my head, grinning. He got me, as usual. “So what's gonna happen to Arachnaman?” I asked.

  "He's going to be locked away, but I'm not going to be so confident yet. He's incredibly smart and much more dangerous than everyone else. I wouldn't be surprised if he manages to escape even with all the security measures we used on him."

  "You're too cynical!"

  "I'd rather be cynical and prepared for the worst, than walk into things with my eyes shut. We'll be busy for the next few days, by the way. I won't be able to talk to you at all. We'll be combing the city for devices he might've planted in different shops and residences."

  "You know which ones to go to then?” I asked, amazed. “You figured out the common denominator?"

  "It was so obvious, we didn't see it,” he replied, his voice hard. “He's a flaming bigot, Eric."

  * * * *

  With the Sentries still busy working with the heroes and their workload doubling now that they had Arachnaman in custody, I was given one more day off from school. I spent my time really hunkering down and working on my take-home essays. I finally got into the swing of things after a few moments of struggling with inspiration, so that by the time everyone started coming home, I only had about one left to do. I just did everything in the dining room, so I could drink a soda and munch away at stale tortilla chips without having to go anywhere for sustenance. Of course, I felt a little bloated once I was finished, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and if the combination of carbonated sugar and stale tortilla chips helped with m
y inspiration, I'd take it, gas and all.

  I went to Olivier's with Liz after dinner, who was feeling kind of restless. She also called Scanlon to meet us there and hang out because, well, she was totally into him, yanno? I said nothing. Just listened to her chatter away like a prepubescent girl who was on the phone with the hottest boy in school. Yikes.

  The rain had stopped, but the sky remained overcast. It was also a little on the warm side, which was weird, but I figured that the greenhouse effect simply did that after the rain sometimes. For that night, the shopping strip enjoyed larger than normal pedestrian traffic. Maybe people needed to get out and expend all that nervous energy from so many days of waiting and then getting attacked by Arachnaman. With his mocking “confession,” or whatever it was called, last night, I wouldn't be surprised if people just wanted to forget that we had a psychopathic bigot in our midst. Hey, whatever worked, right?

  My sister and I spent a good bit of time browsing for books, but we ended up with nothing because we're just too high-maintenance that way. Scanlon eventually materialized from somewhere, actually tiptoeing up to Liz, whose back was turned to him, while signaling me to keep quiet, and then covering her eyes with his hands.

  "Guess who?” he chirped.

  "Hmm,” Liz said, grinning behind his fingers. “Is it Christian Bale?"

  OMFG.

  "I can be!"

  Commence loud giggling and lots of tickling between a couple of lovebirds. I just stared at them blandly and waited for the Hallmark moment to pass, hoping that it'd pass real soon before I puked my dinner all over them.

  "Hiya, Tiger!” Scanlon said, reaching out to tug at my cap. Good thing he didn't do it too hard so that the visor came down to my nose. He'd done that before, and I could've kicked him for almost tearing the visor off my favorite flat cap. Besides, it was embarrassing. Then again, when was I not embarrassed by Scanlon Dorsey?

  "Yeah, yeah, hi,” I grumbled, pulling off my cap and setting it back on my head after inspecting the visor. “Looks like you survived yesterday's drama."

  "I did, yeah! Wasn't it crazy? I couldn't believe it!” Scanlon shook his head, speechless shock on his face. “I'm just glad that you guys didn't get hurt, considering how close it was to where you live."

  Liz looped an arm around his and gave him a quick tug. “I'm not in the mood to go over crazy stuff like that,” she said. “Come on, let's just hang out somewhere.” She looped her other arm around mine so that we wandered downtown arm-in-arm, looking like Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Man. I'd rather not guess who was whom in that scenario. All we needed to do was sing and skip around like the total dorks that we were.

  "Man, I'm bored,” I whined after about half an hour later as we window shopped, taking our damned sweet time the whole way. “I'd go for some big-ass ice cream right now, but I'm not hungry for dessert or anything edible.” Okay, that sounded pretty mental.

  "Want some?” Scanlon asked, looking a little too eager. I narrowed my eyes at him.

  "I'm not going to that kiddie ice cream place, bucko,” I said. “I'm all about adult stuff now, in case you haven't heard."

  "Sure thing! Tell you both what. I'll go to that gelato place a block down and get us all something. What flavors would you like?"

  Okay, so I wasn't about to bite the hand that fed me, so I told him that I wanted a two-scoop deal with half dark chocolate and half espresso. I hoped I didn't salivate too much when I gave him my preference. Scanlon listened, that loopy grin on his face the whole time, and then bounded away with a “Be right back, yo!"

  I blinked as he vanished in the crowd. “Man, Liz, you sure know how to pick ‘em."

  "What now?” Liz demanded. “Are you going to go off about him again? Christ, Eric! What's wrong with you?"

  "What do you mean, what? You've seen how he works! You've seen how he treats me like some kind of ten-year-old!"

  Liz stared me down, her hands on her hips. It was a little bizarre, getting yelled at by someone who stood a good eight inches shorter than me, but she was my older sister, so...

  "You know, I've always been down with your boyfriend, Eric. I've never said anything bad about him even though I think he's a little too serious and nerdy for you..."

  I raised a hand. “Whoa, whoa! Hey, you don't even know Peter!"

  She raised her brows in answer. “Have you ever listened to yourself?"

  "What're you talking about?"

  Liz rolled her eyes but didn't budge. We were in the middle of a busy sidewalk, yelling at each other while people had to bump into us to get by. We acted like the rest of the world didn't even exist. “Are you really that dense? Man! I don't know enough about your boyfriend, and you sure as hell don't know mine! Who do you think you are, going around and judging him the way you've been, making all those faces at the dinner table and giving me all kinds of sarcastic crap about knowing how to pick ‘em? You know jack about Scanlon, Eric, and it's no one's problem but yours! Yeah, you know, he's been doing everything he can to try to bond with you. I don't give a flying rat's ass if you get embarrassed by what he does because as far as I'm concerned, he's got bigger balls than you do, risking your attitude and emo snarky bull just to be friends."

  I looked around. People were staring when they walked past us. “Okay, okay, point taken. Time to end the conversation."

  "No, it's not time, you big diva! It's not! I'm not done with you yet!” Liz retorted. “You're so selfish, you know that? Everything revolves around you and what you want! You think you've got the perfect boyfriend who shouldn't be criticized or whatever, and everyone else is fair game if they don't happen to fit your standards. Well, guess what! I happen to like Scanlon, and he happens to make me feel special, and I happen to like making him feel good about himself. Wow, what a concept, huh? Suddenly, it's not about Eric Plath! Whoa! How'd that happen? In short, little bro, I don't care what you think! Lay off Scanlon, deal with the fact that we like each other, and get snuggly with your boyfriend. If I lose Scanlon, it's because of us, not you. Got it?"

  I just stared at her. Jeebus, what the hell was that? Talk about taking things a little too extreme! Liz must've read my mind because she calmed down with a long sigh. She continued to scowl at me, but when she talked, her voice was quieter and more even.

  "You know, when I told Scanlon that you're gay, he didn't even bat an eyelash. In fact, he told me that he'd like to get to know you more because he's never had a younger brother before.” She looked away, finally, shaking her head. “Just think about that the next time you decide to make fun of him."

  Liz walked off to check out a display window, leaving me to squirm and look stupid in the middle of pedestrian traffic. I looked around and didn't see Scanlon, so I figured that he must be in line or something. I adjusted my cap again and walked up to Liz, hovering behind her as she gaped at shoes.

  "Are you kidding me?” she presently blurted out, pointing at a pair of painful-looking high-heel shoes. You know, the ones with the toes that sharply converged to form this super-dangerous-looking point, with heels that rose high enough to make the woman move on tiptoes? Yeah, that kind. “That's about three days’ worth of work for me!"

  "I guess some women don't mind paying for torture,” I noted, appalled. I felt my toes curl in empathic pain. I followed her to another display window, hoping that we were friends again. The display was on novelty toys. For a moment, we fell silent and watched a group of fake puppies sleep in their beds. “Man, this is consumerism for you.” I sighed and stifled a yawn. “I'm getting tired, too. There's really not much to see out here, is there? Same old stores, same old stuff."

  "Yeah, I know what you mean. Looks like we won't be having much drama around here, though, with Arachnaman in custody."

  I chuckled. “Dude, I'd rather be bored than terrorized by a crazy freakish spider type.” I glanced across the street and spotted a shop that looked new. “Hey, is that an African store?” It was, judging from the really awesome wooden masks that were
on display behind the main windows. “Come on, let's check it out."

  "What about Scanlon?"

  "I'll keep an eye out for him. I mean, look—the gelato place is just right there. He can see us.” Sure enough, when the crowds momentarily thinned, I spotted Scanlon standing in line, craning his neck as he searched for us. I took care to make eye contact with him and then wave, pointing at the store across the street. He got it and smiled, nodding and waving back.

  "Okay, cool. He'll follow us,” I said.

  Liz didn't seem too keen on it, but she let me drag her across the street. We stared inside the window for a few minutes, with me salivating over the masks. They sat on their stands, some long and narrow, some round, all of them distinctive with their painted accents and details. Each piece had a little card that explained what the mask was made for. When I looked up to scan the store's interior, I saw that it was an African home decor shop. The place was nearly packed with all kinds of furniture and statuary, shields and wall art, among others. They were all beautifully painted with some pretty cool patterns and colors against dark wood. If this had been a second-hand shop, I'd have blown every penny I had, and my sad little attic room would be this fantastic African oasis sort of thing.

  "Hey, I want to check out that shadowbox over there,” Liz said, pointing at something inside. “It's got daggers or something in it."

  "Yeah, sure. I'll be there.” I was actually half-listening to her the whole time because my attention had been diverted completely. I'd just turned around to scan the area for our next window-shopping stop, when I spotted that redheaded kid again, moving through the crowd. He looked a little nervous or on edge, like he was waiting for something or looking for something. He was alone like before, and the longer I observed him, the more I grew aware of something unusual about that kid. He seemed to thrum with a nervous energy, like all tightly-coiled inside him and about ready to be let loose. Something in my gut told me that he could be dangerous, even though he looked like the least dangerous person on the planet.