by Nigel Henry
He takes a big gulp and then releases like a happy kid after greedily slurping down a juice box. Some of the blood lands on my face. I close my eyes and start cutting faster.
"Oh man," Foster exclaims, "this one is particularly flavorful. I think I have a favorite blood-type." The pincers return to the neck.
I keep sawing, but each time my hand moves it gets a little more stuck in the web. It's tiring, but I've got to keep at it.
Finally, the stake pokes through the sack, and my hand is able to widen the puncture. I keep at it until I've got use of both of my hands.
Foster keeps slurping greedily, and the fucker closes his eyes for a moment as if he's savoring a delicious burger.
This is my chance.
Using both hands, I tear the sac open and swing. That's enough to break the web's hold on me and I fall to the ground, landing on my shoulder.
I'm up in a heartbeat, and Foster opens his eyes right in time for me to jam the stake in one of them. He screams and drops the body. I avoid it, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the cell tracker. I sweep Foster's feet out from under him and kick the stake further into his eye before slipping the tracker into his pocket. I need to keep tabs on him. Thankfully, he seems too preoccupied with being blinded to notice that I tagged him.
I grab my jacket and mask and bolt out of the room, closing the door behind me. I grab one of the living room chairs and throw it at the window. It crashes through just as Foster tears open the bedroom door.
"MARIAH MILLER!" I hear him roar, but I'm already diving out the window into the fire escape.
"Let's do this again some time!" I shout as I race down the fire escape. I hit the ground running full speed back to the parking garage. I get to my car and find the keys on the ground along with my baton. Another half minute and I'm tearing out of the garage and headed to the highway.
I slam my finger on the call button when I'm far enough away. My mom picks up, sounding terrified. "Ria," she says, "My god, where have you been? It's been an hour!"
"I got tied up at Foster's, but I'm on my way back."
"Are you all right?"
"No, but I'll live. Foster's some kind of spider-man-thing. He knows I'm onto him and he's going to target my friends. We've got to take him out."
"We're on our way!"
"No, I'm coming home first," I insist. "You can get the weapons ready, but I just got tangled in a spider's web. If you think I don't need a shower, you're insane."
TWENTY-SIX
MOM AND DAD are all over me the moment I get home. Mom's checking me for scratches or bites and Dad's examining me for broken bones. "I told you, I'm fine," I say more than once. "Just let me get to a shower."
Now, it may seem odd to take a quick shower right before another showdown with a spider-man. But do you remember how I told you I hate spiders? Now imagine getting to be up close and personal with the creepiest thing you can imagine and tell me your skin isn't crawling.
I'm still pulling webbing out of my hair when I come down to the living room five minutes after the shower, dressed for business. Mom and Dad are hunched over a tablet and Dad's got that look on his face. You know, that "everything's about to go to hell" look.
"What is it?" I ask, prompting them both to look up.
Dad holds out the tablet. "Does this look like what you saw?"
I take the tablet from him and look down at the screen. It's showing a drawing of the web sacs, all dangling from a tree. I nod. "Yes."
He takes the tablet back taps on the screen. "We're dealing with a Jorogumo."
"A Jojo-what now?"
"A Jorogumo. The name means 'prostitute spider.' They were an urban legend in feudalist Japan. According to the myth, they lured men to them with music, wine and the promise of sex. Then they'd mate with them before spinning them in balls of silk."
"Just men?"
Dad nods. "The legends only speak of women Jorogumo. I can't find any record of a male one."
I cross my arms. "Great, so, once again, men ruined the world and women took the blame. Old societies are so damn sexist."
"How do we kill it?" Mom asks, prompting Dad to return to the screen. He swipes down a bit and continues to read.
"According to this, they should be just as vulnerable to regular execution methods as a human. Stab them through the heart, cut off their heads, set them on fire."
"I can vouch that they don't like being stabbed in the eyes," I add.
"Good," Dad says. "We just have to make sure they don't...oh, dear."
Mom leans in. "What?"
Dad flips the screen around. "They can transform into full-spiders. Eight legs and all."
I take a look at the screen. It shows three images: the first is of a Japanese woman dressed scantily in a robe, her hair tied up and her thigh peeking out. The second drawing is of the same woman, but with pincers coming out of her mouth. The third is those same pincers but on a giant freaking hairy spider.
I stifle a shudder. "Okay, so we're dealing with a shape-shifting spider."
"Yes, and once they transform they grow thick exoskeletons that are really hard to cut through."
"Well then let's not waste time," I say. "Let's find Foster and take his head off before he can go full-bug mode."
"How would we even find him?" Mom asks. "He's not going to sit around and wait for us."
"He doesn't have to," I say, pulling out my phone. "I slipped him the spare tracker."
Mom frowns. "Was that how he caught you? Please tell me you didn't risk getting killed to track the monster."
"What? No! I gave him the tracker AFTER I got free of his death trap!"
"That was still incredibly risky, Ria."
"You're mad at me instead of the big murderous bug?"
"The bug isn't my daughter!"
Dad cuts in. "Regardless of when it happened, we can use this." He taps the screen on the tablet a couple of times, bringing up a map. Then he frowns. "Where did you say Foster lives?"
"Second Place, by Battery Park," I answer.
"Well, this says he's in Inwood, just off Broadway."
"What? That can't be right." I take the tablet and my eyes go wide. "Crap."
"What?"
"He's in Inwood, all right. He's at Tech."
"It's a trap," Mom says. "He wants us to come to him."
"You're probably right," Dad says. "But we can't let it escape and hurt more people." He turns off the tablet and looks to me. "Gear up. We're going to school."
TWENTY-SEVEN
WE TAKE MY PARENTS' car, which makes sense considering mine has a smashed up window and is going to need some serious repairs. This, of course, means I get to sit in the back seat and try to recover as we make the drive from Brooklyn to Inwood.
In this case, "recover" means "save up enough strength to be able to open a can of whup-ass on Mr. Foster." And, believe me, I'm storing as much as I can.
He's going to pay. Not just for what he did to me—what he did right in front of me—but for what he did to Emilio, Camila, Marcela, and Kian. And what he tried to do to Mark Bell. That asshole took away four lives, tried to ruin two more, and destroyed countless families. And that's not even counting the bodies I didn't recognize, the werewolf, or the freaking vampire he hired to kill me.
Yeah, he's due some payback.
That said, it's not going to be easy. Even with my parents with me. There's a reason he chose to have his last stand in our school building. He knows the lay of the land better than I do. Come to think of it, I've barely picked up anything these past two weeks. I've been so busy looking into the disappearances that I didn't explore the building. Now it's coming back to bite me. I only hope it doesn't literally come back to bite me.
I try to steel myself as we make the final turn off the Henry Hudson Parkway toward Broadway. Mom rings inspector Perkins, it's a short conversation. "Steve's working another case. He'll get over when he can.”
"Okay then," Dad says tersely. "We're on our own and we're
going up against a new supernatural that knows we're coming for it and is extremely motivated to stop us. Everyone stay sharp."
I want to make a joke, but the words stop in my chest. Tonight's not the night for jokes. Not with as much death as I've seen. Not with what we're about to have to do. Everything I've worked for these past two weeks, it's all about to come to a head.
We park a couple of blocks south of the school building. I'm the first one out of the car, making my way to the back to pop the trunk and grab our weapons. I'm still not sure what's the best tool to kill a giant spider with, so I stuff most of the usual suspects into the duffel bag: crowbars, gasoline, salt cans, matches. I fit my salt belt in place across my chest and check each pouch. Then I stuff the slingshot into my pocket. I grab three knives, strapping one to my thigh and passing the other two to my parents. Then it's masks-on and time to move.
We're all quiet as we approach the school. Dad's leading the group, I'm behind him, and Mom's at the rear. I'm not sure, but I think this is their way of being protective of me after the whole spider-web thing.
We turn the corner onto Isham Street, and the school's entrance comes into view. Dad slinks up to a door and places his hand on the handle. He motions to Mom and me, and we take places on either side of the door. I've got my slingshot aimed and Mom's got her baton out. He nods and pulls the handle. The door swings open easily. It's unlocked.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The only way this could be more of a trap was if there was a big sign that read "THIS IS TOTALLY NOT A TRAP."
Dad pulls out his crowbar. He looks from Mom to me and he nods. No sense in holding it off any longer. Mr. Foster, here we come.
We enter and it's dark as night in here. Dad flicks on a flashlight, revealing the metal detectors. He runs the light along the length of them before stepping through. "They're off."
So apparently that's how you sneak weapons into the school. Just come in after hours on the trail of a Jorogumo. I don't know why I didn't think of that.
We head down the hallway toward the main stairs. I put my hand on the doors when I hear the sound of legs skittering around the ceiling. Lots of legs. Dad shines the flashlight up, but there's nothing there. Nothing that we can see, at least.
Great, this asshole wants to play haunted house. "This isn't our first horror movie, buddy," I say aloud. Mom clicks on her flashlight behind me.
"Let's keep moving," she urges. "Where do you think he'll be?"
"The fourth and fifth floors. That's where Tech is."
We climb the stairwell slowly, trying the doors on each floor. The first four floors are locked, but—oh, surprise—the fifth floor is unlocked.
Dad opens the door and sweeps the flashlight down the hallway in both directions. "It's cle—"
Before he can finish, a strand of spider webbing shoots and catches him in the back. We both race to grab him, but he's yanked away before we can touch him.
"Dad!"
We tear through the door but the hallway is empty. They're gone.
The Jorogumo has my father.
"No," I utter, stunned and confused. "No, they didn't just vanish! They're around here somewhere!"
"Ria," Mom calls my name to calm me down, but I'm not listening. Not now; not while I'm imagining Foster tying my father up in a web sac. Not when I'm seeing Foster stick his pincers into Dad's neck.
I flick on my flashlight and shine it around the hallway. There's nothing here.
"Come out and face me like a man!" I shout. "Stop hiding!"
"RIA!" Mom clamps her hands on my shoulders and shakes me. I look to her, still breathing heavily. "This is what he wants. He wants you rattled and scared and making mistakes. Remember your training. You're strong. You're stronger than he is."
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself and I nod. She's right. The Jorogumo is toying with me. He's trying to throw me off my game. I can't let that happen.
As if to drive the point home, Foster's voice sounds from down the hall. "Don't worry, Mariah. I won't kill your father until you can watch. But you should still hurry."
We both turn and shine our lights in the direction of the sound, but Foster's not there. Instead, there's a single line of spider webbing on the floor that runs down the hall and around the corner like breadcrumbs from the most messed-up fairytale ever.
The web continues down in a line, before turning abruptly into a classroom. I recognize it immediately. It's Foster's math room. We follow it inside, where it runs straight down the middle of the room, past the desks, and ends at Foster's desk.
"Ria," Mom says, shining her flashlight on the chalkboard. I follow it and find a message scrawled across it.
YOU'RE NO HERO, MARIAH MILLER.
"You couldn't save them," Foster taunts me from behind. I spin, but there's nothing. It's like his voice is coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "You fancy yourself some kind of guardian of the humans. It's Mariah Miller vs. the monsters. But you don't know what you're up against and you cannot win."
I ball my hands into fists as the anger runs through me. "Why don't you come down here and prove it?" I say.
"I will, but you have to learn your lesson."
"And what lesson is that? Calculus is for crazy people?"
A "thwick" sound, like someone's retracting a tape measure, comes from out in the hallway. Mom and I take a second to make sure neither of us has been taken, and then we exit the classroom. There's a new web line, one that leads down to a classroom across the hall.
"Oh, this is getting old fast," I grumble. I swear to God, I'm going to squish this bug dead.
We follow the line to the next classroom, and—surprise—there's another message on the chalkboard.
I SAW YOU COMING, it reads.
"Did you really expect to walk around spilling holy water on teachers and have no one notice?" Foster says from...somewhere? "I knew what you were after the first moment I saw you."
"Good," I shoot back, "then you know what I'm going to do to you!"
"You're welcome to try, Mariah—"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, MY NAME IS RIA! You're just being an asshole!"
"Ria, stay calm," Mom urges.
Another "thwick" sound, and once again there's web leading out into the hallway.
"All right, I'm done with this game," I grunt. I storm out into the hallway. "Let's not do this anymore! You want me? Come and get me!"
The sound of metal clattering against the floor startles me, and I turn around to see my mother's flashlight lying on the floor.
"Mom?" I whisper. "Mom?"
No answer. I scan my light around the room, anger suddenly leaving my chest and being replaced by fear. It's empty.
"Lose someone?" Foster taunts.
I start breathing heavily again, the realization that Foster's got both of my parents quickly settling in on my chest and threatening to leave me without air.
Fight it, I tell myself. Foster's nothing but a shitty reject supervillain. You've taken down worse things in your sleep. You just need to stay focused.
It's what my father would've told me. I'll let him know that after I kill this spider.
"Follow the trail, Mariah," Foster sounds. "Follow it if you want your parents to live."
"That's a lie," I point out. "You said you'd kill them in front of me."
"Yes, but I'll kill them NOW if you don't move."
I grit my teeth. I'm really not enjoying being led around like this, but I've got to play his game if I'm going to draw him out. Still, that doesn't mean I can't add my own wrinkles.
I close my eyes momentarily, picturing the building during the daytime, remembering each twist and turn. And suddenly, an idea comes to me. And with it, I smirk.
Bring it on, spider.
I follow the web, and before I know it I'm in the last classroom. I shine the light on the board. There's nothing there.
"Got tired of writing?" I ask aloud. I keep my eyes ahead, but my hand is already reaching for th
e slingshot at my waist. I'm going to have to eat it here and it's going to suck, but it's the only way.
The web hits me in the back of my thigh. I lose my balance and fall, hitting my nose to the tiled floor hard as Foster starts to reel me in. But before he can, I twist, aim the slingshot and fire a salt ball I into the darkness where I think he'll be.
The pained scream tells me I'm right. Foster falls from the ceiling to the floor, and it's too dark to see all of him, but I do get a glance at his face. It's horrific, with eight huge eyes, one of which is patched up from the stake to the face I gave him earlier. His face is covered in brown hairs, and the pincers are flailing open and closed wildly.
Without wasting another moment I load in another salt shot and fire it at the wounded eye. The ball explodes upon contact, and Foster screams some more. That gives me the time to draw my knife, cut the web and take off down the hall.
I crash through the stairwell doors and slam them shut a heartbeat before I hear web stick to the other side. Then I head down the steps, taking three at a time until I'm on the fourth floor. This time, the door opens, and I tear it open and race down the hallway to Birch's biology lab. Once inside, I run to the table nearest the collection of beakers and turn on the gas valve.
"No more running, Mariah," the Jorogumo shouts as he bursts into the room. I round over to the opposite end of the table and reach into my bottom most pouch pocket and pull out the stone I keep there. I slot it into the slingshot and take aim.
"Don't come any closer," I warn.
Foster laughs as he approaches, moving past the doorway and into the light next to a fire extinguisher. The light catches him, and I see the full details of a Jorogumo. It looks like a horrific science experiment gone wrong. It's as if someone pinched him into two segments at the waist, with eight hairy legs that seem to have grown from his torso, all covered by hairs. A line of spider web is coming from his backside, and his pincers are mashing wildly.
"With everything you've seen from me, do you really expect to be able to beat me with with a stone?" he asks.
