Spider-Man: The Venom Factor Omnibus

by Diane Duane

  Then Spidey saw it suddenly change course, surging toward the Lizard. With two beats of that massive tail it was on top of him, jaws gaping wide, but the Lizard sidestepped the clumsy rush and grabbed the ’gator as it plunged by—then roared, strained briefly, and lifted the whole beast clear of the water and up over his head. The shocked ’gator produced that bizarre hissing grunt again, and its tail lashed from side to side, but its target was inside the arc of its swing and safely out of reach.

  Spider-Man crouched down and stayed very still for a moment, sure that this was no time to distract the Lizard—no matter how much he wanted to have a chat. Then the Lizard dropped the ’gator. At first Spidey thought this was an accident, but in a flash the Lizard had grabbed the bigger saurian between his left arm and his side, holding its jaws tight shut. He knows! Spider-Man thought with a touch of grim pleasure. The muscles that closed a ’gator’s jaws were ferociously strong, but those that opened them were much weaker.

  The Lizard brought his right arm around, grabbed his left arm with it in a sort of awkward hammerlock, and began to increase the pressure. The ’gator thrashed, unable to even hiss now. Then there was a sudden, grisly snap, and the ’gator’s thrashing became reflex flopping, then shuddering, until finally the huge reptile hung limp. The Lizard flung its carcass aside and roared in triumph.

  Warily Spider-Man stood up, tensed and ready to dodge. “Nice going, scale-puss,” he said. The Lizard whirled at the sound of his voice and threw himself at Spidey. Spider-Man leapt out of the way, tsking in disapproval. “This is no way to greet an old friend!”

  The Lizard wasn’t concerned. As Spidey leapt, he leapt after him. For a few seconds that part of the swamp would have looked, to an outside observer, like a particularly lively pogo-stick competition, Spidey leaping from islet to islet and the Lizard bounding after him with snake-strike speed. “Curt, listen to me!” Spidey called from a safe distance. “Listen! Stop! I just want to talk. I don’t want to—”

  —fight with you! he finished internally, springing sideways again as the Lizard pounced straight at him, claws out. His roar had scaled up and up until now it was almost a scream, a sound like sheet steel being torn in two. It’s as if it does hurt him, Spidey thought, reluctant to be reminded, but I won’t—I can’t—treat him as if he’s going to be the Lizard forever. I don’t want to acknowledge that identity. I’ve got to get through to the man inside.

  Once more the Lizard jumped him, so fast and from so close that there was no time to web him. Spidey had to club him aside, as hard as he could. The Lizard came down with a splash, half in and half out of the water, his upper body sprawled across one of the little reed islets. As he lay there dazed, Spider-Man bent down beside him. “Aw, damn,” he muttered. “Curt?”

  The Lizard rolled over, hissing in pain, and stared blankly at the darkening sky, slit-pupiled eyes dilating and lipless reptile mouth stretching into a snarl. Spider-Man glanced up—then threw himself sideways just as fast as he could. Even then, he was missed only barely by the pseudopod, sharp as a knife, that thudded into the reedy dirt where he had been crouching a second’s fraction before. He came down on his back in the water and struggled to his feet. Even if he hadn’t recognized the tendril for the alien creature that it was, he’d have identified his attacker based on the total lack of warning from his spider-sense.

  “Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out in a swamp after dark?” said Venom softly, and tendrils from the symbiote came boiling at Spider-Man. He jumped again, slightly hindered by the water and the clinging mud beneath, and made it to one of the islets, looking around him desperately for something to shoot a web at. There was a cypress about fifty feet away; he targeted that, and pulled himself out of the way just in time as Venom came after.

  “We might have known we’d find you here,” Venom said. “Well, you just keep your distance for the moment, while we deal with this.” He turned back toward the Lizard. “It’s ruined enough lives in its time. Now that happy chance throws it in our way, we shall put an end to it.”

  “No!” Spider-Man shouted. He charged back at Venom, leaped off one small island that was barely more than a dry patch in the midst of the water, and shot web from both hands as he passed, tangling the pseudopodia that reached out toward the Lizard to slash and kill.

  The Lizard moaned, rolled over, and struggled to push himself up on his arms as Spider-Man locked off the web and used it to jerk Venom toward him. “It’s not his fault!” he snapped, shooting more web—faster, he hoped, than Venom could claw it away. “None of this is his fault!”

  Venom tore himself free of the webbing. “Who are we supposed to blame, then? Society?” He started toward the Lizard again.

  Spidey launched himself at Venom, feet-first this time, and hit him chest-high. They went down in a heap, grappled one another, and rolled splashing in a tangle of webs and pseudopodia. “You’re supposed to be such a tough guy. How come you have to try hitting people when they’re down? Not very chivalrous. Not very kind to the innocent.”

  “Innocent?” Venom hissed, as claws and pseudopodia grabbed Spider-Man by the head and began to pull him closer to that dreadful fanged, slavering face. Spidey pushed himself back as hard as he could, but the grip was crushing. “He’s no more innocent than you were when you ruined our life. If he had an accident, well, isn’t that just too bad…”

  Spider-Man pushed and pushed, desperate to break that lock. There was a noise on the edge of his hearing, a sound like the buzzing of bees. He couldn’t make out what that would be at this time of night. “Believe it or not,” he said, “I no more meant you harm than he means it to anyone. He can’t help himself when he’s like this. But you… You’re like this on purpose. He’ll turn back to Curt Connors, sooner or later. You’re the way you are because you like it!”

  Venom roared and went for him, clutching him tighter. Spider-Man was having a hard time keeping his distance from that awful grin. The tongue streaked out, looped around his neck, and began to tighten. Spidey braced himself against the pull of the tendrils and the strangling grip of the tongue, intent now on not blacking out; but his ears began to sing, and that buzzing got louder and louder, and his vision began to go dark around the edges.

  Then there was a splashing noise nearby, and suddenly the inexorable pressures on head and throat were released as Spidey was pushed backwards into the water. He scrambled up and out of it, tangled in reeds, and looked around him. A hundred yards or so distant, he could see a low, hunched figure, indistinct in the twilight’s last gleaming but with a faint sheen of water and scales about it.

  It was the Lizard, heading for the horizon just as fast as he could. Venom was after him, leaping as Spidey had from tussock to tussock, but as Spider-Man watched, the Lizard dove into and under the water, cutting it as cleanly as a thrown stone. The surface closed over him, and he was gone. Go, Curt, go! thought Spidey as Venom continued into the darkness on the same line as the Lizard’s final dive, thrusting pseudopodia into the water as he went, feeling for his quarry.

  Spider-Man was distracted by that buzzing noise, now definitely not a sound from inside his battered head, but rising to a throaty mechanical drone. He turned; behind him a boat was approaching, a low, flat-bottomed boat with one of those big, wire-caged fans mounted at the stern, skimming along the open, reed-thickened water of a nearby canal. A searchlight was flickering from it, and as the beam swept from side to side it caught him square.

  Fight or flight, he thought, then shook his head and stood his ground. No. These guys are on my side, whether they know I’m on their side or not. I’m not gonna run.

  The heavy drone of the big propeller-fan died to a sound more like a domestic lawn mower as its engine was throttled back, and the boat settled down onto the surface of the canal and coasted to a stop near him. They were only vague outlines beyond the glare of the searchlight, but Spidey guessed there were about six police officers on board; he could hear the sound of rounds being racked into sho
tgun chambers. Then one of the figures leaned forward and said, “You again?”

  He recognized the man’s voice. It was the officer he had spoken to the other night, when he’d run into the Lizard earlier. “I was just passing through,” Spider-Man said somewhat lamely.

  “Spare me,” said the officer. “We could have heard you a mile away tonight, even without all this listening-gear. Who’s your buddy?”

  “What? You mean the Lizard?”

  “No. I mean the other one, the big one in the black suit.”

  “Hardly a buddy,” said Spider-Man, “in my system or anybody else’s. I’m afraid that was Venom.”

  There was a moment’s silence, and a suggestion of half-seen movement as the men on the boat looked at each other. “You’re keeping bad company, Spider-Man,” said the cop. “And I thought we asked you to stay out of this area.”

  “I was looking for a friend.”

  “This time you do mean the Lizard. Company’s getting worse and worse.”

  “Believe me,” Spider-Man said, “if you had a choice between the Lizard and Venom, I’d advise you to take the Lizard any day. At least he’ll run, if he has the chance. But Venom…” He shook his head. “He’ll run too—but he’ll go through you for a shortcut first.”

  If Spidey had hoped his flip remark might lighten the tense atmosphere, the attempt failed miserably. There was an awkward, distinctly unamused silence, and then the cop cleared his throat. “I’ll choose not to regard that as a threatening statement,” he said grimly. “Normally we don’t give warnings. This is your second. I’ll make it simple for you. Get out of this area. Stay out of this area. You’re not wanted here. You’re complicating a crime scene, and it’s not making our jobs any easier. Do I make myself understood?”

  “I understand you just fine, Officer.”

  There was another silence, and during this one Spider-Man could practically hear the cop thinking that though Spidey understood, he hadn’t yet agreed. “Then you’d better be on your way.”

  For a moment the thought crossed Spidey’s mind that, if he moved fast enough with his webbing, he might be able to tie them all up, leave them here safe enough, and continue his pursuit. But no, he thought. “Good night, Officers,” he said, and took off.

  Their engine powered up again, and a few seconds later the flatboat zoomed off in the direction taken by the Lizard and Venom. Spider-Man went after them, and despite the racket from the boat’s engine and propeller-fan, he remembered what the cop had said about listening-gear, and moved as quietly as he could, trusting as always in his spider-sense to guide him. It was hard to avoid splashing near the water or crashing in the trees, but he took a Great Circle route, arcing out away from the cops and then back around to where it should intersect with Venom’s and the Lizard’s.

  But it was too late. The Lizard had vanished into the swamp, without leaving any trace that Spidey—and hopefully Venom—could see. And as for Venom, there would be no tracking him down either, since his spider-sense never gave any hint of where Venom might be. He had often puzzled about that; probably it had something to do with the symbiote having been tailored originally for him and his special abilities. Right now the question was academic at best. They were both gone. A night’s work wasted, the police even more seriously alienated than they had been before, and he was no closer to finding out what Curt was up to.

  He stayed in the swamp for at least another hour, playing cat-and-mouse with the police-boat as he worked his way back toward Curt and Venom’s trail—and then without warning, something shrill-voiced shrieked right beside him. For a moment, after the day’s quiet, he thought it was an exotic night-bird, or a tree-frog of some kind. Then it shrilled again, in exactly the same key, and he realized it was the cell phone.

  “I do not believe this,” he said under his breath, and hastily pulled it out before it could ring a third time. I cannot believe that, after all that, I forgot to turn it off!

  In the middle distance—too middle, not enough distance—he could hear the changing engine-note of the police flatboat, and then its searchlight came flickering toward him. “Hello?” he whispered.

  “Peter!”

  “I can’t talk right now. You know,” he said quietly, not saying her name, “I really wish you wouldn’t call me at work!”

  “Why? I thought you were going to turn the phone off when—”

  “I forgot,” he said, “and you can laugh at me later.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Near some people who are getting very interested in me. What’s up? Make it quick!”

  “Well, we’re done with… work where I am,” she said. He heard the sound of MJ being cautious. “We’re staying here tonight, and then we’re going… farther north, tomorrow.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “That, er, garden you mentioned.”

  “Gotcha. Look, call me back in a couple of hours, all right?” That searchlight was getting closer, and he had a nasty feeling that its flickerings weren’t as random as they had been.

  “Right. Bye…” And she was gone.

  By the time the police flatboat got close enough to get a positive fix on him, Spidey was gone, too. He made away at his best speed, and soon enough the light swung away and the boat’s drone faded, as the cops turned back onto their original trail. This time Spidey didn’t follow them. He was fairly sure that, listening-gear or not, they weren’t going to find anything, either.

  He sighed, and slowly made his way back to where he had cached the car, at a Seminole-run rest stop on the road—a small and amiable tourist trap kind of place that sold fry bread and souvenirs to the passersby. Anyone passing that lonely spot would have been surprised to see the figure in the red and blue costume standing l here by the beat-up little phone booth. But no one passed, and no one was left at the rest stop to see or hear as he dialed.

  “Hello?” It was Martha.

  “Martha,” he said, “it’s Spider-Man.”

  “How’re you doing?”

  “Well, good and bad. I, uh, I saw Curt this evening.”

  “You saw Curt?”

  “Well, the Lizard. We had a brief set-to.”

  “You didn’t hurt him, did you?”

  “No.”

  “And he didn’t hurt you…?”

  “Not so it counts. Unfortunately, Venom ran into us before we could get into any serious conversations, if you know what I mean.”

  “Oh, no!”

  “No, Martha, it’s all right. He got away. I very much wanted to be able to follow him, because sooner or later, he would have led me back to wherever Curt is keeping himself. I just wanted to let you know what happened, though, because some of this may turn up on the news later. I had a run-in with the police.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay. It’s just that—well, we’re no further forward.”

  She sighed. “Thanks for letting us know, anyway. It’s better to have real news than these hints and rumors.”

  “Whatever he’s up to, Martha, it’s definitely something down in this area—if only because there’s a limit to the distance he can travel in a few hours as Curt, and he can’t stay the Lizard all that long. At least I don’t think so.” He did not say that there were some things about Curt’s behavior that seemed to have changed considerably since Spider-Man had seen him last. There was no point in getting her worried about something he didn’t himself fully understand yet.

  “You’ll keep looking for him?”

  “I will.” He couldn’t say anything more promising than that, though he wished he could.

  “You know we really appreciate your help. Both of us do. William likes to make a great virtue of self-sufficiency.”

  “No question that it’s a virtue,” Spider-Man said softly. “But tell him to leave me something to do.”

  Martha chuckled softly. There was the strength of the woman: despite all the terrible things that had happened to her family, she never quite lost t
he humor. “I will. You take care.”

  “Bye, Martha.”

  She hung up. Spider-Man sighed, then took himself out of sight again, into the brush behind the rest stop, and changed gratefully out of a costume that was now not just itchy but muddy and smelling of an unsavory mixture of sweat and swamp-water. Glad I brought a spare, he thought, as he got wearily into the car and started the long drive home. At the rate things are going, I don’t think there’s going to be time to stop and do the laundry.

  SEVEN

  HE woke up the next morning with a massive ache in his neck and shoulders, left over from Venom’s friendly embrace. Peter took a couple of aspirins, then went and stood under the shower and took mental inventory.

  On the surface, it seemed to have been a wasted day. He had no new information about Curt, or about what was the matter with the Lizard. But, on the other hand, he was now a lot more comfortable with at least part of the ’Glades. Peter had a feeling that this was going to be useful, and sooner rather than later. But at the moment, he was a little weary of life in the swamp.

  And then a plan materialized with a snap. I’m going webswinging this morning, he thought. Among nice neat shiny skyscrapers, for a change. Since I’m here, they might as well see me. If the cops want to do anything about it, let them chase me up the side of a building. At the very worst, he would have a nice therapeutic swing around town, and see some of the sights. It would be very relaxing. Skyscrapers were much simpler and more reliable to swing from than cypress trees. Nor were there alligators waiting beneath them, waiting eagerly to catch you as you fell.

  Peter felt instantly happier. The next problem, of course, was where to go to change, in a strange city. This hotel was one of those with windows that didn’t open: otherwise he would simply have gone straight out.

  He left the hotel and drove north a little bit, on Biscayne Boulevard, to the big Omni shopping center. Peter had seen pictures of it in the tourist magazine in his own hotel, and had thought MJ might like to go there.