The Weight of Us ｡ Peter Parker [3]

26 - Invisible String

Streets twisted and turned, a pathway to nowhere and I followed the cobbled streets in Berlin, hurrying by sweetshops and foreign bookstores like somebody running through the shadowed woods with a monster hunting them. Sweat glistened on my skin from the midday heat and my legs screamed out from fatigue, but I did not stop, I could not stop.

Panic bloomed in my head, too many questions racing around with no answers. Was Beck following me right now? Was he standing just inside that flower shop, ready to snatch me back into the illusions that must have swallowed me whole for hours? Where could I go next? I was absolutely lost in the middle of a foreign country. Was Peter okay?

Risking a second to breathe summer bathed air into my lungs, I came to a stop by a large stone fountain set in the middle of a sweet square, buried deep within the city. Tourists lined the area, maps in hands, chocolate sweets melting on their fingertips. I stepped around in circles, aimlessly trying to plot my next move. My gaze swept the square, paranoia making my blood warm and simmer with doubt. A few children fed pigeons excitedly, their words layered in thick French accents and a family stood in line for currywurst, and perched underneath a coloured umbrella, a glass of iced tea by her elbow waited a woman. Her face was half covered by a battered baseball cap and her black nail polish was chipped. Her lips twisted into a smile, a shadow of a smirk that had been a familiarity in the last few days. From my spot near the fountain, I could make out the shape of her gun through her thin blouse.

"Hello, Kitten." Elliott Mercer purred in a bright greeting when I flopped into the chair beside her. She pushed forward her glass of iced tea. "You look parched. Drink up."

I gulped down the coldness. "What are you doing here? How'd you know I was here?"

Elliott pointed at her face, a little annoyed. "Spy."

"Were you following me?"

She adjusted her cap, her slick dark hair brushing her shoulders. "I don't want you to be angry, but there's a tiny tracker in your pocket." With her confession, my fingers dug into the deep pockets of my jeans and revealed a tiny disc the size of a pea. "You're a flight risk, honey, Fury didn't want you doing something stupid. Therefore, the tracker was necessary, and well, now we all know why that invasion of privacy was needed."

Strangely enough, there was not a drop of rage in my veins. "You couldn't have found me sooner?" I dropped the tracker onto the iron tabletop and scanned the cafe menu idly. "You know, that would have been nice."

"I couldn't show Beck my hand," Elliott shrugged. "Do you want something to eat?"

With the mention of food, my stomach clenched. "Actually, no. I think I might throw up."

Elliott hummed. "Suit yourself," She flipped her phone over and sent a quick text message to somebody named Handsome. "How did you get away from Beck? Not that I would have left you to suffer much longer with his little hallucinations, but I'm curious."

Illusions crept into my head, a repeated nightmare. "You left me with him while he played his stupid mind games because you were intrigued to see what I would do?" There was a bitter snarl to my question and Elliott only arched a single eyebrow. "I'm not sure how I did it, but I used my powers against him. I put about a million memories into his head at once and it kind of left him paralysed."

"Sadly, I'm sure he'll live," Elliott muttered, wiping her hands on her jeans and rising suddenly. "Come on, let's go. We've got a jet to catch." I stared up at her, mouth hanging open. She was so causally blunt, it was a little unnerving. "What? You said you weren't hungry!"