Chapter 18: Bomb
By the time Peter finished cleaning up, evening had already settled in.
The fading sunset washed over New York, dressing the whole city in a soft golden glow.
Peter sat by the window, completely enthralled by the view.
He stretched, feeling the long day catching up to him, hunger gnawing at his stomach.
"I really want a sandwich right now," he muttered.
Boom!
A violent explosion rang out not far away.
Peter jerked his head toward the blast.
"And here I was thinking only the villains in my universe picked the moments I'm off the clock. Guess every universe has the same problem."
He quickly removed his clothes and changed into his Spider-Man suit.
"People of New York, hope you're ready. Your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is clocking in."
With a swift launch out the window, Spider-Man swung toward the explosion site.
A violent blast had torn through the upper floors of a Joram Building. Police cars flooded the streets below as officers quickly cordoned off the area.
"George, what's the situation?" John rushed over, finally arriving after being held up by an unexpected errand.
"A human bomb. Some lunatic detonated explosives on the 35th floor. The top floor of the building is shaking precariously," George replied grimly.
"Damn psycho. Casualties?"
"We can't confirm what's happening inside, but falling debris killed two people. Twelve are in critical condition. Thirty more have lighter injuries," George reported.
"Any survivors still inside?"
"Everyone below the 35th floor got out. The top floor is the problem. Witnesses say around ten people were still up there. They must've been trapped. The collapsed concrete sealed off the only path up. Our guys can't reach them."
"Can we move the debris?"
"We could, but it'll take time. And that's the one thing we don't have." George eyed the trembling upper floor.
"What about a helicopter?" John suggested.
"No way. The top level's too unstable. The rotor wash might knock it loose completely. We'd end up not only failing to save anyone, but also endangering our own people," George warned.
"So we're helpless?" John slammed his fist against the police car in frustration.
"More than that… Gwen Stacy is up there," George leaned in close, lowering his voice.
"Gwen Stacy?" John pondered the name, finding it vaguely familiar.
Seeing the confusion, George leaned closer again.
"You seriously forgot? She's Captain George Stacy's daughter."
With that reminder, the connection finally clicked in John's mind.
"What?! How did she end up up there?"
"Keep your voice down."
George glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before he continued.
"I didn't know at first. One of the evacuees is a friend of mine. He recognized her. He told me himself."
"You trust the info?"
"Without a doubt."
John's expression darkened. "That complicates everything."
What had originally been a straightforward terrorist attack had now become a direct provocation against the NYPD itself.
The Daily Bugle would never pass on a chance to tear into the department's reputation.
"Exactly. Gwen Stacy is Captain Stacy's beloved daughter. If anything happens to her, we'll be stuck as patrol officers for the rest of our careers," George grumbled.
"At a time like this, that's where your mind goes?" John frowned.
"I'm not like you. You're the type who carries the weight of the world. I just care about my future," George replied without hesitation.
He'd known John long enough to understand how he thought.
"Doesn't matter now. We can't fly, we can't climb walls, and there's no way for us to get up there."
"Yeah. We're not superpowered. We're just regular people… there's nothing we can do," John whispered, defeated.
"I wouldn't say that. New York is as peaceful as it is thanks to its officers. Without you wonderful cops, who knows what this city would look like?"
Spider-Man's voice echoed behind them.
"Spider-Man!" John exclaimed.
The surrounding officers spun around and instantly raised their guns.
"Whoa, whoa! Easy, my lovely officers. Pointing those dangerous things at your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man is a great way to make someone nervous," Spidey said, raising his hands.
"Stand down," John ordered as he stepped between Spider-Man and the guns.
"Officer John, the Bugle calls him a menace," one officer argued.
"I said stand down." This time John's tone left no room for debate.
"Listen to John. Lower your weapons," George added.
Seeing the two highest-ranking officers present step in, the others reluctantly dropped their aim.
"Sorry about that," John apologized.
"No worries. I'm used to it. You guys are better than the police on my side, at least no one started shooting immediately."
"Is that so? That sounds rough."
"What's the situation with the building?"
"People are trapped on the top floor. We can't get to them," John explained.
Spider-Man looked up at the trembling structure, then glanced at the growing crowd.
"Leave the top floor to me. Your officers should focus on clearing the civilians," he said.
"You sure you can pull it off? The Bugle's been slamming you non-stop. If this goes wrong, your reputation might never recover," John warned.
He didn't want New York's first superhero ruined like that.
"My reputation doesn't have much lower to go. Relax, I've handled situations like this hundreds of times." Spidey gave a confident shrug.
"Really?" John eyed him skeptically.
"Fine… maybe not hundreds, but dozens at least. Point is: trust me."
"Please make sure a blonde girl is among the ones you save," George added.
"No one gets left behind," Spider-Man promised.
Under the watchful eyes of officers and bystanders, Spider-Man flipped and ran up the side of the building.
"Good lord…" George muttered, watching Spider-Man move across the building as if walking on flat ground.
The crowd quickly pulled out their phones to record.
"Everyone, start clearing the area," John instructed, waving the officers into motion.
Spider-Man raced upward, with debris constantly falling.
He dodged the falling rocks and used his webbing to stick them to the building.
When he finally reached the top floor, the chaos he expected never came.