Spiderman 3 by Peter David Read Free Book Online Page B

decided that he was going to embrace the power of positive thinking. Perhaps things went wrong because he expected the worst-case scenario at any moment. He had even temporarily lost his powers because of his uncertainty and lack of desire to live up to his responsibilities. There was no reason that he couldn't shape his life to be as positive as he wanted it to be simply by being determined to make it happen.
    He stepped off the bike, removed his helmet, and checked his watch. Four in the morning. He didn't feel at all tired. Perhaps he should do some webswinging to…
    Nah. How about something normal for once? Drink a glass of milk, watch TV, or read a book until your eyes get heavy. Something like that. You've been prioritizing Peter Parker's life for once, and that's been going pretty well for you. Smartest thing would be to keep doing exactly what you're doing, and not switch over to Spider-M
—
    His spider-sense went off.
    He acted completely on instinct, as he always did in such matters. He leaped toward the building, figuring to hit the wall and scurry up it, buy a few precious seconds, get a clearer idea of what was happening and where it was coming from.
    It was one of the rare instances when his instincts betrayed him.
    Airborne as he was, he had no protection, no recourse, as something slammed into him. The ground spun away from Peter with dizzying speed as he arced upward, heading toward the stars that he had been admiring from a distance only a few hours before.
    He twisted around, trying to see who or what had grabbed him. He heard the high-pitched whine of a powerful engine and suddenly found himself staring—not into a person's face—but into a demented-looking, and hi-tech almost familiar mask, covering the lower part of his attacker's head.
    The Goblin?! The Green Goblin! But he's dead! I saw him die! Am I dreaming? Did I fall asleep? Am I still in the web hammock with MJ and I drifted off? This can't
—
    The buildings were a blur beneath him as Peter, an unwilling passenger, continued to angle sharply upward. This "New Goblin" grabbed Peter by the hair, yanking his head back. Peter gasped, trying to comprehend what was happening, with the sharp pain and the stinging feel of the wind in his face reinforcing that this was no dream. The New Goblin drew his free arm back, ready to strike, and fearsome blades sprouted from the wrist of his armor. Peter tried to pull away, but he had no leverage. Snagged as he was, immobilized as he was, Peter couldn't offer more than token resistance as the blades sliced across his chest. It shredded his shirt, raising a thin line of blood, and he cried out in agony. If he hadn't managed to pull back even the marginal amount that he had, it would have ripped open his torso.
    The Goblin repositioned himself and tried to bring the blades around again, but the pain galvanized Peter. He snagged the Goblin's arm, strength against strength, holding the lethal weapon at bay. The Goblin was cackling dementedly, but there was a slight hesitation, the briefest uncertainty. Grabbing the opportunity to do some damage, Peter swung his foot up and kicked the Goblin hard in the chest. The Goblin lost his grip on Peter's hair, although Peter was certain he felt some strands pulling loose from his scalp.
    Peter twisted clear and flipped himself over the Goblin's head. He let himself go into free fall just to get some distance. He afforded a fast glance behind him and saw that the Goblin was astride a different vehicle than he had been the last time. It wasn't a bat-winged glider, but instead something that looked more like a supercharged hi-tech snowboard. The armor was also different, far more minimal… a few pieces slapped together.
    Peter kept his arms and legs straight and dove like a parachutist. The ground spun below him, but he'd been in far more dizzying circumstances than this. In fact, the effect was almost calming, the first chance he'd had to compose his thoughts since this