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CHAPTER ELEVEN HAVE YOU EVER TRIED SHAWARMA?
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The apartment was five stories up, and one quick look down the main hall showed Riley that the stairs were unsafe. There was no way in hell he was going to step foot in the elevator. That left only one option, and it was the window Riley had crashed through in the first place. With Miles secured to his side, the boys arms locked around Riley's neck, Riley peered through the open gap. One of his hands was on Miles's back, keeping him close even if they were still safely inside. His other hand was on his gadget at his hip, the thing that worked as a grappling hook, though it was smaller than most would think. He didn't think he could grapple the building across the street. They likely would hit the ground before the hook really attached in the brick, which meant he'd have no choice but to twist in the air and grapple to the building they were currently in.
And then he'd have to twist again during the swing down, just to make sure Miles didn't take any of the impact. They were inevitably going to crash back against the building. Riley was planning to make it low enough that he could jump down the rest of the way with Miles safely. Sighing, he took the grappling gadget completely off his belt and chose to attach it to his wrist and forearm instead. It was recommended they wear it on their hip, since hips were harder to dislocate than shoulders or wrists, but Riley wasn't confident with that. At least with it attached to his left arm, he could aim accordingly and see how he needed to angle on the way down.
"Hey, Miles, do you like roller-coasters?" he asked as the gadget tightened automatically around his arm and wrist, so much so that his circulation was briefly cut off before it adjusted. He wasn't quite sure who had made his grappling gadget—Leo Fitz, most likely, the mad genius—but he was suddenly very in love with it. He didn't need both hands for it, only one. Miles nodded his head. "Well, this is going to feel a little similar. Your stomach is going to feel weird when we fall down, but just remember that you're safe. Hold on tight to me and keep your eyes closed, okay?"
"Okay," Miles said softly, tightening his arms around Riley's neck, though Riley noticed he was being careful not to press against his windpipe. That was smart of him. Riley hadn't even thought about it. Miles tucked his face into Riley's shoulder, and Riley took that as permission to start. He decided against running and jumping out of the window, figuring that would do nothing but make Miles panic. Instead, raised his foot and lowered it over the windowpane, testing the small bit of brick sticking out to make sure it would hold their weight. He didn't step his other foot out, figuring that was asking for too much. Instead, he leaned his torso forward and glanced to his left. If he angled it right, he could shoot the grappling hook from where he was and swing down that way, make the descent smoother for both of them. Before he could talk himself out of it—and before anymore Chitauri came rounding around the corner of any of the nearby buildings—he aimed his left hand and shot the grappling hook.
