Untamed

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Just give up already. He's dead."

"Why would you do this to him? We're just kids! He just wanted to help!"

"Well, I won't have to worry about him ruining my business anymore, now will I?"

"You're sick."

"I didn't want to do this, but you and I both know I had to."

"No," my voice breaks. "You didn't have to. You chose to."

"And what's so wrong with that?"

"Because now you're going to die."

I hold out my hand and use my powers to constrict his throat. He grasps it and falls to his knees, gasping for air.

"Peter... wouldn't have... done this," he chokes out.

His words surprise me because I know he's right. A tear falls down my face and I stop using my powers. He falls forward and gasps for air.

"You're right," I mumble.

Toomes signals for me to come to him, still on his knees, coughing. I hesitantly walk to him and stand above him. He signals for me to get closer, so I do.

"I'm sorry," he says.

I look at him in confusion and he stabs me in the neck with some kind of shot, injecting it. I stumble backwards and everything becomes fuzzy.

"Lets see if your father takes me seriously when I kill you." I faintly hear him say, before I fall into unconsciousness.

•

When I wake up, I'm on the floor, in a puddle of my own blood. I look around, trying to figure out where I am. I realize I'm in a plane when I see the night sky through the window.

I sit up, hissing at the pain this movement causes. Still disoriented, I look down and see that my dress is drenched in blood on my stomach. It looks like a stab wound.

I'm guessing their plan was to take all of the cargo and leave me dead on the plane when it arrived to the compound. Vulture must have had one of the people who worked for him sneak me on this plane before it took off.

I use my hand to put pressure on the wound and then lean over, coughing. I don't realize it's blood until I wipe my mouth, and my hand comes back red.

I stand up, despite the aching pain in my abdomen, and look out of the window. I see the lights of skyscrapers far below me. Suddenly, Peter's face appears in the window. I gasp, falling backwards. I have to be hallucinating from blood loss. This can't be real. I find myself doubting this, even though it seems like the most reasonable explanation. So, not knowing what else to do, I use telepathy.

Are you real?

I open my mind to his thoughts and allow them to pass through. Sure enough, his voice fills my head.

It's me, Gracee. It's Peter.

That's impossible.

With no response, I turn back around, facing away from the window. I feel numb. There's no one here to help me, and by the time I reach the compound, I'll be dead. I could try to heal myself, but I don't have enough energy for that kind of power exertion. I'm startled by the sound of glass breaking behind me. I jump up and turn around, seeing that the window is broken, and Peter is crawling in through it.

"You're not real."

"What are you talking about? I'm right here, Gracee. Are you okay?" He walks closer to me, and I back away.

"You can't be real. You died."

"If I'm not real, then you wouldn't be able to feel my energy. Do you feel it?"

I close my eyes, concentrating on the energy around me. To my surprise and relief, I feel the comfort of his energy. I smile, opening my eyes. He smiles at me and I ignore the pain, running to him and wrapping my arms around him.

Hesitantly, he holds me in his arms, and I feel safe. Neither of us have to say anything out loud, we both know how we feel. I can't even imagine what he's just been through and what he had to do to get here, but I know that I've never been so happy to see his face.

"How did you get up here?" I ask.

"I hitched a ride," he says, and I send him a questioning look. "Vulture flew up here and overrode the security. That's why no alarms went off when I broke the window. He should be getting on the plane right about... now."

Just as Peter finishes his sentence, I hear the sound of someone dropping to the ground inside of the plane. Peter grabs my hand and pulls me to the window. He climbs out, reaching for my hand. I take it, and he helps me outside. The wind whips my hair in my face and causes my eyes to water.

I quickly use my powers to lift myself in the air, keeping pace with the plane. I can't help but admire the high tech plane and how it appears invisible. It camouflages to whatever it's surrounded by, so right now it looks like the night sky. Dad always does have the best ideas.

I'm caught off guard when Vulture drops down out of the plane, coming right towards Peter and I. We move out of the way, and I rise higher on the plane, while Peter climbs beside me.

"Just a typical homecoming on the outside of an invisible jet with my date, fighting my friend's dad!" Peter yells over the wind.

"If I had known my first school dance would be like this, I wouldn't have worn heels," I say, out of breath.

Vulture comes out of no where once again, his wing slicing through the side of the plane, right above our heads. As he flies away, Peter shoots a web on him and is dragged behind. He shoots a separate web on the plane, but it breaks off. As he falls right towards the blades of the motor, I push him to the side with my powers. Vulture hits the motor, causing it to detach from the plane.

Vulture comes back towards us, on top of the plane, swiping at us with his metal wings. Each time we dodge the dangerous blades. The top motor has now caught on fire and the jet starts losing altitude. The jets walls are glitching, no longer camouflaged in the dark sky. Peter shoots a web on the wing of the plane, turning it to the side so we don't descend down on the city.

"Please turn, please turn!" he yells.

Too weak to help, I drop down to the wing beside him. We both hold on with all of our strength as the wind tries to push us back. I close my eyes as the plane crashes onto the beach, and Peter and I are thrown across the sand.