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Back Whirlwind Save as PDF
Chapters (95)
  1. Title Page
  2. 1
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. 4
  6. 5
  7. 6
  8. 7
  9. 8
  10. 9
  11. 10
  12. 11
  13. 12
  14. 13
  15. 14
  16. 15
  17. 16
  18. 17
  19. 18
  20. 19
  21. 20
  22. 21
  23. 22
  24. 23
  25. 24
  26. 25
  27. 26
  28. 27
  29. 28
  30. 29
  31. 30
  32. 31
  33. 32
  34. 33
  35. 34
  36. 35
  37. 36
  38. 37
  39. 38
  40. 39
  41. 40
  42. 41
  43. 42
  44. 43
  45. 44
  46. 45
  47. 46
  48. 47
  49. 48
  50. 49
  51. 50
  52. 51
  53. 52
  54. 53
  55. 54
  56. 55
  57. 56
  58. 57
  59. 58
  60. 59
  61. 60
  62. 61
  63. 62
  64. 63
  65. 64
  66. 65
  67. 66
  68. 67
  69. 68
  70. 69
  71. 70
  72. 71
  73. 72
  74. 73
  75. 74
  76. 75
  77. 76
  78. 77
  79. 78
  80. 79
  81. 80
  82. 81
  83. 82
  84. 83
  85. 84
  86. 85
  87. 86
  88. 87
  89. 88
  90. 89
  91. 90
  92. 91
  93. 92
  94. Also by DAVID KLASS
  95. Copyright Page

He’s gonna catch me in his web like Spiderman? I try to make a joke of it, but Gisco is creeping me out. There’s something spooky and alien about reptiles and spiders, especially the poisonous variety.

Tarantulas don’t spin webs, Gisco informs me. They run down their prey. But now I believe your vision, Jack. So he is here! I can feel Gisco tremble telepathically.

I have quite the reverse reaction. If this is the guy who took P.J., I want to settle things with him soon face-to-face, eight legs or not. What’s his name? I ask the dog.

He doesn’t have a name. He doesn’t have an age, or a place of birth that anyone knows. He’s mysterious for the worst reason. Everyone who comes up against him dies horribly. They say he likes to do the killing with his own hands, or even with his teeth.

I remember the fangs of the spider in my vision. So let me guess, dog, you’re about to tell me I’m the only one who can stop this spidery sociopath, just like I was the only person who could find Firestorm?

Nope, you can’t stop him, Gisco answers. No one can stop him. He’s far too powerful.

I look back at the dog. He’s so scared and miserable I think he’s actually telling the truth.

Then why did you bring me back? I demand. Why did you go to such trouble to find me, and break me out of jail, and get me on this balloon to the Amazon? Clearly you want me to do something. But at the same time you say we don’t have a prayer of stopping this guy.

Correct. There’s a contradiction there, and you’ve just put your finger right on it, Gisco declares. I’d love to clear it up for you, but we have a little problem here.

Don’t try to distract me, dog. I know your tricks.

Gisco is peering over the side of the gondola. He looks about as worried as an old dog can.

I follow his gaze downward. There, through the swirling miasma, the gargantuan soldiers are visible again, marching in endless columns. No, not soldiers, mountain peaks. Rocky, snowcapped, and formidable.

What are they? I ask him, trying to visualize a topographical map of the hemisphere with the different large mountain ranges. The Appalachians? The Sierra Madre?

I believe they’re the Andes.

The Andes? I repeat, awed. My God. I’ve always wanted to see the Andes!

Yes, well, you’re going to get your wish. Our balloon seems to have sprung a leak and we’re losing altitude fast, Gisco observes, so I think we’re about to crash into them.

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