Little Spy | Peter Parker ✓

[9]

THAT NIGHT WAS THE NIGHT WHERE SOME, THOUGH LITTLE, SUCCESS WAS HAD.

Though it did not amount to too much in the end, at least something had been done and Inga could not scold for no progress to be had. I followed through with the lead she had been given, dressed all in black and heart beating so fast, I feared it would be heard by anyone around as I slipped into the shadows and made my way through Queens, New York.

The world was curious when it was dark - not any quieter, but certainly, there was a much different sense of it all going about. The crowds were angrier and rushing at a faster pace, honks and shouts filling the air and acting as a disguise for my feet and breathing. Bright lights flashed and at first, I worried about exposure, but Inga had instructed a careful route and the shadows were enough of a shield for me to blend into, most of the time. I followed the mental map and her verbal instructions, racing through dim-lit alleyways and past throngs of curious crowds, a flicker gone within seconds and vanishing off to find him.

Even with the worry of a thousand threats pressing into my skull, there was a victorious smile licking up my lips.

Though, it would not end up lasting. Just as we reached the last steps, the bright lights getting clearer and shouts getting louder, there were footsteps and then two men racing down the way I was going, leaving me to avert the immediate route and dive for cover in the darkness. I had to wait several long, consuming seconds in the corner, hoping that the coast would be clear before racing out again on my path, only for it to be too late.

The boy was gone.

Slipped through my fingers, just when I had a chance to prove myself worthy.

The shame alone, it was enough to break a man.

I muttered off a dozen curses under my breath. Sweat dripped from my brow, my hands clammy from exertion. Locks of dark brown had escaped the tight bun at the nape of my neck and fell across my face, tiny hair tickling my forehead as I stood and observed the crime scene around me, everything that had been asked for except the Spider-man, who had disappeared into the night without a trace.

The frightened store owner shivered in the chilly night air as tears ran down his wrinkled face, and there was a medic nearby, urging him to 'come and take a seat; you're in shock'. Three men stood with their heads bowed next to presumably officers, one muttering to himself over something or other, angry from the looks of it. A small crowd stood watching, dribbles of people scattered and talking to others who were in the same curious boat as them.

None of that mattered, to me.

Inga was silent in my ear, the first time she had since I had left her side. Somehow, that was worse, knowing she was fuming and just waiting for the chance at berating me over something that had never been in my power. I could picture her, hands forming fists, a dark look building in her eyes as she watched the tiny cameras set up on me. Were she a god, there would be thunder and lightning crashing down, a red and black storm raging around for the failure.

It would be that image, that would inspire a new thought, in my head.

I had to head home. It was what she expected, and there was nowhere else I needed to be, aside from in her reproachful gaze.

However, instead of rushing back home and dealing with her assumable wrath, I whirled away and began to run. My feet bounced and hit the pavement, half my hair fleeing from the bun to run behind me dramatically. The sharp cries of a startled Inga filled my ears; I dared not to stop and answer. Not then.

My focus was solely on running and figuring out my way to where I had to go.

The trip was not so far, not nearly as bad as it had been to arrive at the initial scene. I made it there easily, fleeing from the shadows to find an apartment only familiar from photos shown a while back.