Miles Morales

“Yes, yes, Miles Morales.” Miles’s eyes widened as he heard his name. “The Super Hero.” Sarcasm dripped from the Warden’s voice. Super Hero? But…how could they know? The mere thought of anyone, especially Mr. Chamberlain, and all the others in that room, being made aware of Miles’s secret caused his stomach to flip. The entire room rumbled in amusement as the Warden continued. “Extraordinary power is made only for extraordinary people. And, hear me, you have to be born extraordinary, with pure blood and a strong mind. It’s not his fault he’s a descendant of filth, but it’s dangerous to everyone that he thinks he can be more than that. Yes, Mr. Chamberlain, I’ve been watching him too. I’ve journeyed through his thoughts. I’ve whispered to him in his sleep, the same way I’ve done most of the men in his family. And though he’s a bit more resistant, we have to correct him. And to do that, we must break him.”

“Yes, sir. I tried framing him for stealing…sausages. Though he wiggled out of expulsion, he still lost his job, putting his parents in more of a bind.” Another low laugh spread around the room. “In short, I think we’re close to breaking him.”

Miles’s face crumpled. Reflexively, he balled his hands into fists.

“Ah. That’s fantastic. Do you have anyone else you’re watching?” the Warden asked.

“Not actively, but there is a boy named Judge.”

“Judge?” the Warden scoffed. “The irony. Well, Mr. Chamberlain, keep us posted, and well done.”

“Thank you, Warden.” Mr. Chamberlain stepped back into the crowd.

The Warden lifted a glass to his lips and drank. “I remember a few hundred years ago, back when America really worked. When labor was not something that had to be bargained for, but something that was readily available by beings that would have no purpose unless we gave them the purpose of servitude. That’s what we need to return to. That’s our mission.” The Warden paused, took a sip of the glass. His swallow looked like a small animal scurrying down his throat. He wiped his mouth. “It disgusts me, what I see now. So we have work to do. More good, important work. Correcting. Remember our motto: Distract and defeat.”

The Warden lifted his glass and made a toast.

“To the Chamberlains.”

“To the Chamberlains!” And the cocktail party started.

Miles backed away from the window. He was still in camo mode, but with that many people watching, it always felt like someone could see him. He dashed back across the field toward the prison until he reached the metal door in the ground. He yanked it, but it didn’t budge. Miles tightened his grip and yanked it harder, ripping it off the hinges. Luckily, there were no prison guards monitoring the back field. Then again, if anybody actually did break out of the prison, made it over the stone wall, and somehow got through the barbed wire fence, they’d have nowhere to run but straight to the Warden’s house, where, clearly, trouble was awaiting.

Miles jumped back into the tunnel and sprinted through the sewer until he finally came back to steps underneath the auditorium. He put his ear to the door to make sure no one was there making out. Once he knew it was clear, he kicked the locked door open, ran back down the side of the building, and slipped back into the winding-down party, where he found Ganke still standing in the middle of the floor, ramrod straight, his hands pressed together like a monk in prayer.





“Miles, you’re being weird,” Ganke said as they walked from the auditorium back to their dorm. “We just came from the best party ever, and you’re acting like it was just another Saturday night at the Morales house. Better yet, you’re acting like it was last night at the Lee house.”

“I’ll tell you what happened when we get back to the room. I can’t talk about it out here,” Miles said through his teeth.

“Well, can I at least just tell you about the prank? So, all night, they were bringing out those bowls of punch, right? So on one of the refill rounds, there was a girl waiting to get some and she dipped the scoop in, and when she brought it up, she screamed. Dude, I mean she really wailed. It was crazy. And guess why?” Miles didn’t respond. “Because she thought there were fingers in it! But they weren’t fingers, they were sausages! The seniors are geniuses!” Ganke hooted, but then awkwardly pinched his laughter off after noticing the look on Miles’s face. Miles wasn’t amused. How could he be when he had just found out Mr. Chamberlain stole those sausages as part of a plan to sabotage him? Maybe the seniors were geniuses, Miles thought…in conjunction with the history department. Or maybe not. “Know what? Never mind. You had to be there,” Ganke said.

Kids were everywhere, many of their costumes now a mess of streaky makeup. They were screaming and playing around, the sugar in the candy kicking them into overdrive. Miles moved quickly through them, though he glanced at all of the faces to make sure he wasn’t overlooking Alicia. But she was nowhere to be found. And that was probably for the best. Miles wasn’t in any shape to talk to her about…anything.

But once they reached their room, Miles tried to explain it all to Ganke.

“So you followed him?” Ganke asked, peeling the pink swim cap from his head.

“Yeah, man. I followed him to a door on the side of the auditor—”

“Wait.” Ganke tapped his shoulders as if calling time-out. “So…you missed the whole party? I just thought maybe you missed the end. Snuck out with Alicia or something.”

“I was there. But then I left, because when I was talking, or…trying to talk to her, Chamberlain came over and messed with me, and my spidey-sense started going off, and I’ve been saying something is up with him. That he’s not—”

“Wait. Time-out. Time. OUT!” Ganke put his hands up, again. “So you did talk to Alicia? And how was that?” Ganke bounced his heavy eyebrows.

“Ganke. I don’t know because I had to leave.”

“What? Why?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you!” Miles said, pounding his own legs. “Listen. I followed Chamberlain. He went to this other door on the side of the auditorium. He had a key for it. It led down into like a sewer or something, and after a whole lot of walking we came out on the other end, which was at the prison.”

Miles explained everything, the words coming out faster than his brain was working. He told Ganke about how the house matched the house in his dreams, about the Warden, about how they were targeting certain students, and were especially targeting Miles.

“They know I’m Spider-Man,” he said.

Ganke sat quietly.

Miles set the zombie mask he was wearing on the bed and yanked open his closet door. He kicked a few shoe boxes out of the way, and got into the corner, where he yanked out his Spider-Man suit.

“What are you doing, Miles?” Ganke asked, concerned.

Miles laid the suit out on the bed. “You know what I’m doing.”

“Tonight?” Ganke stood up from the bed as if he was ready to try to physically stop Miles. “You want to go fight a whole house full of people? Think, Miles.” Ganke tapped his finger to his temple. “From what it sounds like, Mr. Chamberlain and all the other Mr. Chamberlains are being controlled by this old dude. He’s obviously the guy you need to be after.”

Miles sighed, then sat on his bed next to the black-and-red suit. He stared at it. “You’re right. I’m just so…so…”

“I know. But man, you got that break-a-desk look on your face again. And the last time that happened you, well, you broke a desk.”

“Shut up, man.” Miles allowed himself to calm down.

“I’m just saying, sleep on it.” Ganke sat back on his bed, kicked his shoes off, and yawned. “Just promise me that if you, in fact, do sleep on it, you won’t be crawling on the ceiling and all that. It’s Halloween night and I just don’t think I can take it.”

Miles threw Ganke’s rubber mask at him.

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