Mother of the Spiders: Octagon

15. Superhero (Thread Two)

[Each chapter of Octagon corresponds to a song that inspired the shape of the character arc and/or story arc. You can listen to each chapter's "song" to gain further insight into the world-building of Gossamer Loom and the people who live there. I definitely had fun listening to these songs while I was writing the novel. Chapter 15's "Formation Song" is "Zombie" by The Cranberries.]

Caroline was Spider-Man.

She swung through the sky, hovering over a version of New York that looked like it belonged in an old, blocky video game. The city below wasn't quite real—buildings were squared-off and pixelated, and the streets stretched in jagged lines, cars and people frozen in jerky, repetitive motions. It was like being in a game from her middle school days, a throwback to the grainy PlayStation graphics Willy and Ivy would lose themselves in for hours in Ivy's basement while Caroline and Coop watched, hoarding the snacks.

She zipped through the buildings, the webbing shooting from her wrists as she swung from point to point. The cityscape felt familiar but cheap, like it was pasted together out of blocks, and everything had this weird, clunky feel, like moving through a distant half-baked memory of New York. She landed on a rooftop as her spider senses started tingling.

Then came that laugh, low and evil, filling the air behind her. She turned, and there he was: the Green Goblin, in all his poorly rendered glory, gliding after her with a warped mask and jagged, pixelated edges. He tossed a pumpkin bomb her way, but it spun off awkwardly, disappearing without a trace. There was something creepy going on—like this moment wasn't supposed to be part of the game.

Like this whole sequence was out of place.

She felt a burst of adrenaline as the Goblin hopped off his glider and approached her. She charged toward him, grabbing his mask and yanking it off. But underneath was Helen, her face twisted and animalistic, eyes wild and unfocused, mouth open in a snarl. Helen lunged forward, her teeth snapping, trying to bite Caroline, like some kind of feral dog. Caroline tried to pull away, but Helen's face kept coming closer, her teeth snapping...

And then she jolted awake, her heart pounding. The spiders' voices buzzed in her ears, whispering insistently:

It's time.

She shot out of bed with a start. She was ready. She checked the pocket of her hospital gown to make sure Eli's lighter and the keycard he had brought her were still there, as well as a wad of toilet paper she had collected. Then, she crept her way toward her door. Opening it a crack, she peered into the hallway.

The usual suspects were out there: wandering patients, slack-jawed and glossy-eyed, and nurses barely able to keep their eyes open. At the end of the hall, like clockwork, Becky Birdwatcher was winding up into her nightly tirade, her raspy voice echoing, "They're coming! The aliens! Big ol' fat chodes ready to beam me up, oh yes!"

Caroline watched as one nurse rolled her eyes, another one cursed under her breath. Two nurses broke off to grab the sedatives, muttering irritably. The others braced themselves for Becky's violent thrashing. It was the same every night: Becky would start ranting, then screaming, and they'd have to sedate her just to keep her quiet.

Becky Birdwatcher and her alien chodes were the diversion Caroline had counted on.

Caroline slipped silently from her room, clutching Eli's lighter and the wad of toilet paper. Her heart pounded as she slid over to the smoke detector halfway down the hall. The nurses were occupied with Becky, and most of the patients were either asleep or too sedated to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Almost all of them.

A few feet away, Mike, a skinny guy with a perpetually twitchy eye, was watching her, his mouth half-open. He shook his head.

"N-no. No breaking the rules, Caroline. You're a naughty girl."

Shit. Mike had a tendency to tattle on the other patients. It just had to be him, didn't it? But then she remembered the Weaver's words.