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It felt like hours I was waiting on that platform. Then again, when you have a full-on slate of classes from 8AM to 2PM at Columbia University, it messes with your perception of time. After all, it was only 2:45. I lugged my backpack through the train doors and grabbed onto one of the handrails. God, my legs were aching.
Just relax, I thought, soon you’ll be back at your apartment where you can lie down as long as you want. The train pulled out of the station and began carrying us to Bay Ridge.
From here, it was all routine. Stand in silence, glance out the window every so often, try to tune out the occasional crying baby, and just wait for my stop. About five minutes in, I caught a glimpse of something moving in the distance. Something... swinging.
That’s impossible. Spider-Man quit! The guy at the Bugle even found his costume in the trash. I must just be seeing things. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a copy of “The Big Sleep”. I read for ten minutes, but then I glimpsed more movement out the window. I turned to look, and this time was certain of what I’d seen. Spider-Man, swinging up and over to the top of the West Side Tower. And waiting at the top was Dr. Otto Octavius. At least, I assumed it was him, owing to the fact that I was not aware of any other individuals with four metal arms attached to their back.
“When did he come back?” I said, pointing out the window at Spider-Man.
“Earlier today, I’ve heard.” a blonde woman in a green coat said, “There was an extra edition of the Bugle just a couple hours ago.”
“Damn shame, it is.” an older man said from the front of the car, “The city was a safer place without that menace.”
“That’s a damn lie and you know it.” a black man in a yellow shirt piped up, “Ever since he disappeared, criminals have been coming out of the woodwork.”
“Yeah, the Daily Bugle themselves reported a massive crime spike.” another passenger said. I shrunk back into my book. I didn’t know what to make of him myself, and even if I did, I wasn’t great with confrontation. I decided to just let them argue amongst themselves, and hopefully it wouldn’t get much worse than--
The arguing was interrupted by a series of metallic thuds coming from the roof.
“What the hell?” I heard someone say through the car door. I looked back up at the tower, now just behind us, and noticed that Spider-Man and Octavius were gone.
“Oh no.” I said, tucking my book back into my bag. At a time like this, I knew I had to be on full alert. I couldn’t tell what was happening at first. All I could hear were a couple more dull thuds, then another, sharper impact. We went under an overpass, then I heard a metallic scraping sound from up ahead. I looked out the window and saw Spider-Man and Octavius on the side of the train a car ahead. One of the metal arms grabbed Spider-Man and thrust him through the door. I tried to move to the next car back, but the crowd was too thick. I was trapped.
Another train passed us. Once it was gone, I looked back out the window: no sign of either man. But I could hear something, just below the car. Some kind of high-pitched whine, like a motor whirring. I saw Spider-Man climbing down the window, then one of Octavius’s arms burst right through the other side. Had I been standing just a few feet further forward, it would’ve hit me! Spider-Man hurtled to the ground as Octavius climbed back onto the roof. I couldn’t see either of them anymore, but the sounds coming from above told me he was moving even further back. I heard the pulse in my ears, my eyes were darting around frantically, hoping I could find some semblance of safety.
Taking a deep breath, I turned to look out the window behind me. Spider-Man was swinging behind the train, but someone was flying towards him, a blonde woman in a red dress. He caught her in a web, thank God, then did the same for a man in a business suit. I heard Octavius’s footsteps above me. Was he looking for more hostages? Was I next? At least I could say no to that one, since he went right past us. The banging stopped, and I felt like I had a moment’s peace at last.
As soon as the thought crossed my mind, the train suddenly accelerated. My feet slipped out from under me and I fell right to the floor. The woman in the green jacket reached out her hand, and I pulled myself up.
“Thanks.” I said, rubbing the back of my head. It felt a little painful, but not swollen or wet. But the train was still going twice as fast as it should’ve been, and showed no signs of slowing down.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Doc Ock broke the throttle.” someone at the front of the car said, “The train’s out of control!” I crumbled to the floor, the strength completely draining from my already weak legs. If we were barreling down the tracks at this speed, with no way to stop... there was no way I would be making it out alive. Looking around, I saw that other people were reacting similarly. Maybe not so theatrical, but people were slumping against the walls or sitting down on the floor. A few, however, remained standing.
“Don’t worry.” the man in the yellow shirt said, “Spider-Man will save us. I know it.”
“Are you sure?” I said, “I mean, he’s done some great things, but... this might be a bit much.”
“Our fate is in his hands now. There’s nothing we can do but believe in him.” I took a deep breath, and realized the man was right. Spider-Man was our only hope. My only hope. If putting my faith in him gave me even the tiniest chance of surviving, I had to do it.
“Brace yourselves!” a voice echoed out. I scrambled to my feet and grabbed an overhead bar. I felt nothing, but after a few seconds, I saw splinters of wood flying past the window. I continued to hold on, and through the window saw two strings of webbing stretched across either side. I felt the train jerk slightly. It was working! But just as I started to feel hopeful again, I saw the webbing whip around, its anchor on the buildings beside us clearly gone.
This is it. I thought, I’m sorry, Mom and Dad. I wish I had the chance to say goodbye. Then I heard more whipping. I looked out the window to see more web lines, ten or twelve at the least.
Distributing the load across multiple members... reducing the total stress in each web line... smart move. I continued to hold on for dear life as the strings continued to stretch. I could feel us starting to slow down, but we were still moving too fast for my liking. The web lines continued to stretch, getting thinner and thinner until SNAP! A string finally broke. Then another. And another. The train was slowing down, but would it be enough? Would those web lines hold on long enough? Hell, could Spider-Man’s arms even take the strain? I heard a crash coming from in front of the train.
End of the line... I heard screaming from the front car as it jerked downward, and then...
Nothing.
The train had stopped. I was still alive. We were all still alive! I wanted to laugh, to cheer, to say anything, but at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to. I had nearly died. If Spider-Man hadn’t been quite so strong, or quite so smart, I would’ve been a statistic in the USA Today. You don’t just bounce back from an experience like that, at least not right away. I was in such a state of shock, I couldn’t even bring myself to cry.
“Nice and easy, lower him down.” I heard over the silence. I looked through the windows between cars and saw a crowd forming.
“Gently!” I heard as I squeezed through to get a closer look.
I couldn’t believe what I saw. Spider-Man, lying on the floor, with large gashes beneath his chest. Even with his mask off, I couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. All I could tell was... he looked like me. No older than twenty, pale skin, dark brown hair. It could have just as easily been me lying there. In fact, were it not for him, I very well might have been in that same position.
“He’s... just a kid.” a man in a Mets cap said, “No older than my son.” The boy’s eyes fluttered open, just in time to see the crowd of people looking down at him. He reached up and touched his face, and gasped as he realized what they were seeing. He sat up and met the eyes of a black man with a graying beard in a plaid shirt.
“It’s alright.” the man assured as two kids walked up to him. Seeing them threw me through another loop. They couldn’t have even been out of middle school, and yet they went through the exact same thing I did. Hopefully, their parents were there somewhere, because they definitely needed them.
“We found something.” one of them said, and the other kid held out Spider-Man’s mask. It was burnt, and one of the eyes was blocked by soot, but the boy... Spider-Man, accepted it back all the same.
“We won’t tell nobody.” The other one said. Spider-Man looked at the kids for a few moments, somehow I could tell he was smiling, and then pulled the mask back on over his head.
“It’s good to have you back, Spider-Man.” Spider-Man pushed himself up off the ground. The other passengers helped him to his feet. Then suddenly, the door in front of him burst open, and Dr. Octavius... no, he didn’t deserve to be called by that name. Dr. Otto Octavius was a good man. A brilliant, kind-hearted, honest man who wanted nothing more than to leave the world better than he found it. The man standing there, clawing his way into the train car with those hideous tendrils, had no right to keep his name after what he did to me, to all of us. Doc Ock tore the front of the train car open, causing the whole train to shake.
“He’s mine!” Doc Ock said, brandishing his giant claws. I wanted to run, my heart was racing in my chest. But I didn’t. I stood firm where I was. Spider-Man never ran when people needed him, and now he needed us more than anything. I didn’t know what I could do, but I had to have his back. And I was not alone. An overweight man stepped between Spider-Man and Doc Ock.
“If you want to get to him, you gotta go through me.”
“And me.”
“Me too.” Before I knew it, everyone in the car was blocking Doc Ock’s path. But he was unfazed. In fact, he was smiling.
“Very well.” Doc Ock thrust his tentacles forward, pushing everyone aside until Spider-Man was visible again. The windows shattered and the walls buckled, but still two men held onto Spider-Man, including the man in the Mets cap. Spider-Man held up his hand, however, and they let him go. The webheaded hero took a step towards Doc Ock, but was quickly punched out by his metal fist. A metal claw grabbed Spider-Man’s unconscious body and dragged him along as Doc Ock disappeared from sight.
As soon as I arrived home, I called my parents. I told them everything that happened, how I felt like I was going to die, and how Spider-Man saved my life. The only part I left out was the part where I saw Spider-Man without his mask. I knew there was no way I could let anyone know I even knew anything about who he really was. Come to think of it, that face felt vaguely familiar. Could he be another student at Columbia? I shook the thought away. That didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was okay, that my parents were okay. All I could do now was hope that whatever Doc Ock had planned for Spider-Man, he would find a way out.