[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/oQJAsoY.png?1[/img][/center]

“Ms. Stacy,” a voice floats lazily to my ears through the darkness before it fades into the void, an echo tumbling down an endless cave. From in front of my eyes a blurry point of light appears, like a star in the night sky obscured with a thin layer of water. The voice repeats its call to me, and the light gets brighter and brighter until my eyes flash open and I realize I’ve fallen asleep in physics class. My teacher, Mr. Becker, looks on with annoyance, “Ms. Stacy, I asked you a question.”

I look around to find everyone in class staring at me as I try and discretely wipe away some drool from the side of my mouth. Flash is snickering, and Liz Allen is outright howling. Peter shoots me a sympathetic look.

[color=ec008c]“I...uh...force equals mass times acceleration,”[/color] I manage to stutter out without having any idea what the question was.

Everyone howls with laughter as Mr. Becker attempts to quiet everyone down, “Please. Please. Enough, you hyenas. Ms. Stacy, I merely wanted to know why you were sleeping in my class. Am I boring you?”

Of course that’s all he wanted to know.

[color=ec008c]“No, sir,”[/color] I shake my head. [color=ec008c]“I just...had a long night last night. You know? Kinda just beat.”[/color]

“Well, let’s not let it happen again, shall we?”

I nod as he continues to drone on. To be honest, I’m kind of a whiz in physics, so I don’t really need to pay attention, and I could really use the sleep. I’ve been trying to track down the source of the Octopus’s drugs into New York, mapping them at home.

A huge map of the city hangs on the wall of my bedroom, crisscrosses of colored string spider-webbing across the streets of New York. Red crosses over blue, which passes under yellow, pink, and black. Pinning them to the map are pushpins of just as many colors. The map is absolutely a mess, and I've been adding more and more as the weeks have gone on

Each point shows a place I found a dealer pushing Ink, or where I stopped a large shipment in a truck. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve seen an uptick recently. I don’t know if it’s because of people getting more depressed during the holidays, or if the Octopus’s plan to spread addiction through the city is working better than I thought it is.

Neither of those options are very good.

What’s worse though is where the lines seem to be coming from. All the lines seem to come from the Bronx. Normally, that wouldn’t be all that big of a deal. But that was before the Surfer decided to destroy the supermax prison that is located right off the coast of that part of the city. Since then, the Bronx has become something of a war zone. Cops don’t go there, and the only protection people have is a gang calling themselves the Pale Horses. From reports, they’re a pack of vigilantes, but they’re brutal. They don’t take prisoners, and have already killed quite a few people.

Normally, I’d go into stop them, like I did with the Punisher. But I don’t want to waltz in there and fight them, the Octopus, and any escaped Raft inmates still in the area. Dad’s already warned me that would be a suicide mission.

But I can’t wait around any longer. If the Ink continues to spread over the city, it won’t be long until it spreads from here.

I guess it’s time to head into the Bronx.

[center]************[/center]

[color=7bcdc8]“Absolutely not,”[/color] Dad shakes his head as I finish putting on my mask. [color=7bcdc8]“We’ve talked about this. Until I can get info on where the Pale Horse territory runs from my guy in organized crime it’s too dangerous to go poking around in there.”[/color]

I knew he wasn’t going to like this. He’s been wary of me going into dangerous situations ever since the Surfer. He knows how out of my league I was there, but this is different.

[color=ec008c][b]“Dad, it’s a bunch of vigilante gangbangers,”[/b][/color] I protest. [color=ec008c][b]“I can take care of them. And I need to find where these drugs are coming from. I can’t wait anymore.”[/b][/color]

[color=7bcdc8]“I’ve heard stories,”[/color] Dad puts his hand on my shoulder. [color=7bcdc8]“Whoever runs the Pale Horses? He’s not to be trifled with. Heard guys on the street say he can rip a door straight off a car. That he can take on hell of a punch and not lose a step. I just don’t want you racing in to another situation like you did with Black Tarantula.”[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]“Dad, do you think the Pale Horses are running Ink?”[/b][/color] I ask him, tilting my head to the side. [color=ec008c][b]“Because if they’re not, I don’t think I’m gonna have that much of an issue with them. I’ll be in and out before you can say Spider-Woman.”[/b][/color]

[color=7bcdc8]“They don’t like cops, sweetheart,”[/color] he assures me. [color=7bcdc8]“How do you think they’re going to feel about you?”[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]“Dad, I’m Spider-Woman, not Spider-Cop,”[/b][/color] I shrug as I head for the window. [color=ec008c][b]“I’ll be fine.”[/b][/color]

[center]**********[/center]

The swing to the Bronx doesn’t take long, but the change couldn’t be more stark. The streets of this part of the city are clear of the throngs of pedestrians you find elsewhere. Windows are barred with clearly new fortifications installed since the Raft incident. And curtains are pulled shut over dimly lit windows, making sure no one sees what people have in their homes.

It makes me sad to see what the neighborhood has become. It was just as nice as Queens before the Raft, and things have taken such a drastic turn. Still, the fact that it’s basically become a no-go zone for police would make it the perfect place for the Octopus to run his business from. Don’t have to worry about unwanted raids if there’s no one doing the raiding.

[color=ec008c][b]“So, any ideas where I can start looking?”[/b][/color] I ask Dad over the comms. He’s taken over helping me in situations I know Peter will be out of his league. Pete is great, of course, but he’s not really proficient in tracking down drug dealers.

[color=7bcdc8]“Well the docks are out,”[/color] Dad says as I swing over the abandoned-looking streets. [color=7bcdc8]“SHIELD has enough patrols down that way during their rebuild of the Raft. There’s an area in the West Bronx that might fit the bill. Some old warehouses that have been abandoned for a while. Would be a good place to set up shop.”[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]“Of course it has to be all the way across hostile territory. What else would be the case?”[/b][/color]

[color=7bcdc8]“You wanted to do this, remember?”[/color]

[color=ec008c][b]“Yea, well, not everything I do is smart. Remember?”[/b][/color]

[color=7bcdc8]“Sure, but you can do this.”[/color]

I was sure Dad was going to hate me being Spider-Woman. I mean, I flaunt the thing he's held dear his entire life every day and night I go out on patrol. I'm a vigilante. There's no dancing around the subject. Cops hate vigilantes. Hell, before I told him what I am, Dad hated them with all his heart. I don't know if it's because it's me, or if something else changed his mind, but he's behind me one hundred percent, and I could not be any happier about that.

[color=ec008c][b]"Thanks, Dad,"[/b][/color] I smile as I swing deeper into this part of the city. [color=ec008c][b]"I'll get in touch if I find anything."[/b][/color]