Chapter 54: Total mess, part 2

But there is no shock or blast. It's light-noise, I'm relieved to realize.

I come to my senses a little faster than the others, thanks to the regeneration. I look around the classroom: some of the attackers have managed to lower the visors of their helmets with light filters and have almost recovered from the explosion, several students are lying with wounds of varying severity, but at first glance no fatal injuries are visible. Almost all had fallen asleep on the floor, and Sarasti was against the wall when they started shooting at her. Now the teacher was not visible in the classroom, apparently having jumped out the window.

"Oh, my head," Mary Jane whispered with a groan, "what... what's going on, Peter?"

Damn it! Why is she awake! Everyone else is still sound asleep! They won't let her live now. Shit! Shit! Shit!

For a second I hesitate, what should I do? The soldiers are about to wake up, I won't have time to incapacitate everyone, even if I act Sarasti style and kill my enemies without ceremony. Then we need to get them away from the school! The other students are still asleep, if the agents want me, they won't waste time killing students. So far, they haven't paid any attention to any of the kids at all. But to leave my classmates here, in the company of a bunch of killers...

"What are you lying around for, you stupid bitches, get him now!" The commander is the first to recover.

Well, I've successfully got their attention; now all I have to do is run away and distract the enemies from the others.

Following Sarasti's example, I jump out the third-floor window with M.J. in my arms. There's a belated burst of gunfire behind me.

The ground rushes toward me quickly, but I'm already confident in my abilities, since the Lizard serum is working, even if not to its full potential.

Something went wrong... my legs buckle during the impact, and I fall to my knees, dropping the girl in the process. Mary Jane rolls over the ground. What's wrong, it's like my legs have stopped working?

Feeling the hot, viscous fluid running down my legs, I look down in wonder at the two wide, lacerated exit wounds decorating my abdomen. As soon as the information about the wound reaches my brain, the pain immediately fills my consciousness. It partly helps to know that these wounds, though they look gruesome, are not lethal or even particularly dangerous, just waiting for the Lizard's regeneration to repair the damage. It is much scarier when, along with the physical torture, you are tormented by the realization that you are most likely dead, and along with you are those you wanted to protect. I know this kind of thing firsthand.

"Don't shoot!" The attacker's commander howled, "Take the boy alive!"

Then I realized that if the bullets had shot through me... Mary Jane!

I look in her direction, and the first thing that catches my eye is the bloodied body. My heart shrinks in an agony far greater than the pain of the physical body. But after a few moments, I manage to see that the injured corpse isn't M.J.'s. It's just that the girl has rolled away in the same direction as Sarasti, and she's in one piece, trying to get up off the ground with her hands on her head. I'm relieved that Mary Jane is unhurt, but also ashamed that I'm glad her teacher, whoever she is, is dead.

Though she might just be out, given the agility with which Yucca had fought under barrage of fire, it might well be that the few wounds that adorned her chest were not fatal.

"And the momentum on these rifles isn't that weak," I note as the pain recedes and the wounds begin to heal. But I thought they wanted to capture me, not kill me. They should have done a better job instructing their fighters.

There's no time to wait for recovery to finish on its own. I use webbing instead of bandages to fix the edges of my wounds. An extremely clumsy method, but very effective. Even in the past, without Lizard regeneration, I've relied on the strength and toughness of spider webs in similar situations on several occasions. I'd rather forget that experience, though.

Then Mary Jane stares at Sarasti and recoils away in horror. She crawls backward on the ground until she accidentally bumps her hand over the teacher's glasses. With a shocked look, the girl stares first at the blood-stained broken glasses, then at the teacher. I have to admit, Yucca is a gruesome sight. And it wasn't even the bullet wounds at all. She had accidentally broken the glass when she jumped out of the window, and as a result, the woman's face was adorned with several long and deep cuts.

"Get up, Mary Jane," I walked over to the girl, "we have to run, it's urgent."

I think I've succeeded in bringing her to her senses. The girl's eyes focus on me.

"Not so fast, kid," comes from somewhere above, "look around you! This whole school, thousands of innocent children's lives sleeping peacefully. It would be a shame to kill them all ... how about we start by killing your girlfriend?"

Without hurrying or hiding, the leader of the attackers, a tall woman with blond hair falling out from under her helmet, walks toward us. After her, the others jump out the window.

"You may not be afraid of our bullets, but what about the rest of them, the other students don't have your regeneration..."

The situation couldn't be worse. One by one, eleven armed fighters emerge from the school building. I can't protect M.J. from them all by myself.

"And all of you will die in the wake, you can be sure of that," I reply to the threat.

"That would be unpleasant, wouldn't it?" she said with a hint of amusement in her voice, as she continued to walk slowly toward us. "Why do we need unnecessary death, if everything can be resolved in peace, surrender, and we will not touch your girlfriend."

"Will you let the witness live? Do you take me for an idiot?2 I step forward, pushing Mary Jane behind my back.

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"Come on, what can she say? That you were kidnapped? That there was a shooting? Thanks to that creature," the woman kicked Sarasti's body nonchalantly, "we've made enough of a fuss already. She didn't see our faces, so it's okay."

"Stay there, don't come any closer. I can't take the word of killers and terrorists like you."

"We're not terrorists," I bet she grimaced under her helmet, "you don't want to believe us... okay, let's leave together, right now, and let her stay here. We let her go, and then you obediently put the collar on, and no one dies, is that okay with you?"

"Peter, no, I won't let you go, don't even think about agreeing!" Mary Jane's voice has a melody of despair in it.

"I don't know what you've done to yourself, but even if you can kill all of us, my people will have time to blow up your classmates, don't make us do it," the terrorist adds, seeing that I am hesitant.

"Okay, I agree," her suggestion brings me back to the original plan: me versus them; Lizard serum versus suppressor.

"No! You can't..." Mary Jane begins, rushing forward, but I stop her by grabbing her arm and pulling her to me. I take advantage of our proximity to pull the phone out of my pants and slip it into the pocket of M.J.'s jeans, unnoticed by the others.

"You have my phone in your pocket, as soon as we leave, call Bobby and tell her everything, they'll get me out, don't worry."

"Time is short, lovebirds, don't make me go to extremes!" Shouts the leader of the attackers.

"Trust me Mary Jane, everything will be fine, remember, I've been kidnapped before, I'm sure to get out! I have a few more tricks, but I need to know that you're safe, please," I managed, with great difficulty, to convince the girl to listen to reason.

She must know that she can't help me in this situation. M.J., in tears, puts her arms around me and kisses me as if for the last time.

"Just please come back," Mary Jane says in a low voice.

"Of course, I'm your hero, remember?"

"All right, let's go!" There's a commanding voice. "You and you, take the teacher's corpse and put it in the van."

"What about ours?" For the first time one of the rank and file soldiers speaks up.

"There is no time, they won't get to us, let's go! Quickly, now!"

Two of the soldiers run to Sarasti's body, the rest follow me and the commander to the nearby car... hmm, they don't hide their transport from Mary-Jane, she can remember the plates. It's kind of unprofessional. Stop! I recognize that van! I've seen it a couple of times on my street, how long have they been following me? Holy crap, how did I not notice that?

I was so sure that the first person to come out at me would be Nick Fury, because that's how it had happened in the past. I was subconsciously waiting for S.H.I.E.L.D. to come knocking on my door.

There's some kind of commotion coming from behind me, which quickly turns into a choking scream. I turn around and see Sarasti dispatching the women who had gone after her, just as quickly and in cold blood as before. Two blows to unprotected armor, two dead bodies. Then Yucca froze, looking after us, for a moment I thought she was about to rush to my rescue, but suddenly Sarasti just falls to the ground, crouching as if in an epileptic fit. Her whole body was breaking from some unknown ailment... it was hardly caused by her wounds.

I have no idea who the hell she is or what's going on with her! That's not the most important problem in my life, though.

The woman standing next to me throws up her machine gun, aiming at Sarasti, but I elbow her in the stomach, preventing her from shooting. Half the soldiers immediately aim their weapons at me.

"Do you want me or her?" I ask, looking through the visor of their commander's helmet. She ponders for a few seconds.

"Let's load up!" She decides to leave two more bodies in the schoolyard, along with the still convulsing teacher.

The van doors swing open and we squeeze inside. I immediately notice the strange layout inside the vehicle. There are many marks on the walls, as if previously attached equipment had been torn off in a hurry to make room. Apparently there used to be surveillance devices installed there to monitor my house. I suppose when I go back to my place, I'll find dozens of different bugs there.

 

We are seated on the miserable plastic benches that are somehow attached along the walls of the car. So that leaves nine of us, plus the driver. In the same cramped car as the Lizard, we've been through this before, haven't we? They either didn't believe I could kill them all myself, or they had some trump card up their sleeve.

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