Heart and Heroics ›› Peter Parker [1] #Wattys2017

15- Washington Trip (pt. 2)

"We're all going to die, Fiona," June says to me, as we crouch down at the feet of our captors. She doesn't seem as terrified as the other kids. If anything, she looks a tiny bit brave. 

"No we are not," I growl, "we are not dying, or going to."

"Hey!" The guy standing in front of us shouts at me. "No talking, or I'll blow your skull to bits."

A few girls yelp, and tremble. Despite the fact that they weren't the ones being threatened.

I narrow my eyes at one of the captors. Worse people than him have intimidated me.

The guy walks over, while his comrades smirk. Thinking I'm just some badmouthed teenager. He lowers the gun closer to my head. "You want to test my patiences, little girl? Go ahead. Its your funeral."

I barely flinch. I've had too many weapons pointed at me, to even have a single shred of fear. A common thief's gun won't make me cower.

"We don't w-want any trouble," Mr. Harrington stammers, clearly scared of the situation. "W-we'll pay you anything, just let us go."

The guy standing over me, gives me a withering look of slight anger. Tempted to pull the trigger. Then he turns to Mr. Harrington. Our teacher shrinks back, regreting that he opened his mouth.

The captor, seeing that the teacher isn't worth the patience to threaten, walks away to discuss matters with his allies.

I reach into my pocket and pull out my phone. I keep my eyes up, not making direct eye contact with my device. I press the button to call Peter.

"What are you doing?" June whispers to me. "You're going to get caught, and get shot."

"Let 'em try," I mutter.

"Are you crazy?" Liz says in a hushed voice, behind us. She must've overheard us.

"Guess we'll find out," I slowly back up towards the small window. Some people give me a few worried glances, and shift their places.

The click of a gun echoes. "I told you not to talk, or move," the guy, who yelled at my earlier, says.

I don't say anything. Actions do speak louder than words. Hopefully no one will question what I'm about to do, and how it somehow relates to Intensity.

I get to my feet gradually, and act as if I'm putting my hands up. I turn in a sudden motion, planning on using it as a weird excuse for something.

At that moment, there's a bang, and the bullet hits me in the rib, but I turned so it wasn't that bad. Plus I was wearing my suit underneath so I didn't actually get shot. But no one else knew that.

Think fast, I thought, time to exit. I slam into the window, and break it. I hear the shrieks of my classmates, as I tumble from the height of the monument.

Debris from the building, showers down. I don't know how or why that happened. Lucky for me, the rubble brings the people's attention, from below, away from my fall.

They're too busy running, to notice me at all, or me taking off my hoodie, revealing my suit.

I pull my mask on, while the air rushes through my hair, and past my face.

I crash into the ground level part of the monument. Just then, did I realize that the captors had bombed all the possible exits and entrances, to keep the cops from coming in.