After delivering little Jack safely into his father’s arms, Peter flipped over the side of the railing and dropped down beneath the bridge.
He wanted to follow the giant lizard that had plunged into the dark water below.
However, after waiting on a bridge pier for a long time, he came up completely empty-handed.
The vast, churning waters had swallowed up every trace of the creature.
With no other choice, Peter scaled his way back up to the bridge deck.
By now, Captain Stacy—who had been stuck in the massive traffic jam—had arrived on foot alongside a squad of police officers, having sprinted all the way from the far end of the bridge.
In the distance, fire trucks had also reached the approach, but they were similarly blocked by the gridlock and couldn’t drive onto the span itself.
When Peter pulled himself up, everyone was huddled together, wringing their hands over how to rescue the people still trapped in the cars dangling off the side.
Several firefighters were strapping on safety harnesses, preparing to climb down the edge on foot to haul victims up.
Seeing this scene, Peter’s eyes lit up under his mask.
Wasn’t this exactly what he had planned to do all along?
On the bridge deck, the firefighters were moving with extreme caution, taking each step with painstaking care.
There was no helping it; with the fire trucks blocked outside, they were operating without heavy winch gear.
And down below, nobody knew how long those thin strands of white webbing would hold.
Only minutes ago, they had watched one web-tethered car break loose and plunge into the river.
In fact, several onlookers who saw the webbing anchoring the cars to the steel girders assumed the masked spider-guy was the villain behind the entire catastrophe, hurling curses and accusations at him.
Taking these wild claims at face value, a few officers were actively gathering “witness statements” at the scene, seemingly trying to pin the whole disaster on Peter.
Peter thought to himself: ‘Thank goodness I came back up!
If I hadn’t, I would’ve been stuck carrying the mother of all scapegoat burdens!’ He could already picture tomorrow morning’s headlines flashing across front pages everywhere: [Is It Moral Decay, or Human Perversion?
Last Night, the Masked Menace Spider-Man Finally Turns His Claws on Innocent New Yorkers!
— The Daily Bugle] [A Terror Walking the Streets, a Dark Cloud Over New York!
Who Truly Is Spider-Man?
— The Daily Bugle] [How Can Citizens’ Property Be Protected?
In Whose Hands Lies Our Safety?
— The New York Financial Times] [SHOCKING!
The Supposed Hero “Spider-Man” Did THIS to Innocent Citizens on Williamsburg Bridge Last Night!
— UC Shocking News, NYC Division] Peter shook his head violently, banishing those nightmare scenarios from his mind.
Without further hesitation, he jogged along the outer edge of the bridge, waving his arms, “Hey!
Let me handle this!
Let me handle it—I can get them up safely!” “Spider-Man!” Led by Captain Stacy, a dozen officers instantly drew their handguns, aiming them straight at Peter.
Peter froze, quickly throwing his hands high in the air, “Hey, I’m just trying to help!
I’m not carrying any weapons!” “Help?!” Captain Stacy barked, his voice filled with suspicion.
“Are those webs on those dangling cars your handiwork?” “Yes, but—” Peter tried to explain.
“You threw them over the edge just to play the hero and pull them back up?
You treat us like fools?!” Captain Stacy roared.
Peter: …
‘If you weren’t Gwen’s dad, I would kick your butt so hard with my Spider-Boots it’d blossom into a flower!’ Though he knew deep down that if he actually did that, Gwen would wear her stylish leather boots and kick *his* butt straight into next week…
Peter let out a heavy sigh, “Captain, just ask the people around here, or take a look at the massive claw marks on those crushed cars!” He held out his hands to demonstrate, “Do you honestly think these small hands of mine could tear through metal like that?” Captain Stacy kept his weapon trained on Peter, his gaze rock-hard.
As a seasoned veteran officer, he refused to trust any masked vigilante—especially one with a rap sheet of interfering with police operations and engaging in unsanctioned violence.
He tilted his head slightly toward a nearby officer, “Omar, check the surrounding vehicles.
See if there are any claw marks like he says.” “On it, Captain Stacy!” An officer holstered his firearm and sprinted toward the damaged cars nearby.
Peter cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, “Don’t forget to check the pavement!
There should be claw marks on the concrete, too!” Officer Omar paused in his tracks, glancing back at Captain Stacy for confirmation.
Captain Stacy gave a stiff nod.
The tense standoff dragged on.
Down below, however, the firefighters’ rescue effort hit a dangerous snag.
Because the dangling car was hanging from a single web line, the firefighter sent down was likewise suspended by a single rescue rope.
Out over the open river, gusts of wind caused both the heavy sedan and the firefighter to sway wildly.
Trying to align two heavy, oscillating targets in mid-air was brutally difficult.
After minutes of struggling, several firefighters were still dangling upside down under the bridge frame, having failed to haul up a single survivor.
The one making the most progress had barely managed to pull a passenger out of a shattered car window.
That rescued passenger was none other than Rajit Ratha.
Right at that moment, a powerful gust of wind swept across the river.
Strained under the combined weight of two adult men, the safety rope was pulled taut as a guitar string.
As the wind blew, the rope rubbed violently against the sharp steel edge of the bridge frame, producing a sickening, high-pitched *scraaaatch* sound—as if it were about to snap at any second!
“AAAAAAAH!” Ratha shrieked in absolute terror, wrapping his arms and legs tightly around the firefighter like a terrified sloth.
His panicked thrashing, however, didn’t make their situation any safer—it made it infinitely worse!
“Stop moving!” The firefighter’s face turned red with fury.
If the guy had just stayed still until the rope stabilized, the team above would have hauled them up in seconds.
With Ratha flailing around, the rope swung in wider, violent arcs.
How were they supposed to pull them up now?
Worse yet, the friction between the safety rope and the jagged steel edge grew even more intense!
Though safety lines were built tough and shouldn’t fray easily under normal conditions, that loud, grating screech of tearing fibers sent a wave of panic through everyone watching.
Of course, stern warnings meant nothing to a man consumed by blind panic.
In a fit of terror and rage, Ratha screamed, “I am Dr.
Rajit Ratha, Head of Biological Research at Oscorp!
You must get me up safely, or I will sue you and your department into oblivion!” The firefighter rolled his eyes beneath his helmet.
‘If it weren’t for the $80,000 salary this job pays, who in their right mind would risk their life saving an arrogant jerk like you?’ Still, he forced himself to stay patient, trying to stabilize Ratha while praying his crew on the bridge would pull them up quickly.
Fate, however, had other plans.
The wind over the river picked up speed, and with a sharp, terrifying sound of snapping fabric, a major strand of the safety rope tore open!
Screams of terror rang out instantly.
This time, it came from both of them!
Up on the bridge deck, mid-standoff with Captain Stacy, Peter’s sharp senses picked up the sound of tearing rope fibers instantly.
Seeing the imminent danger, he leapt off the edge without a second thought!
“Spider-Man!” Thinking the vigilante was trying to bolt, Captain Stacy and his officers rushed to the railing—only to see Spider-Man fire a pair of web lines mid-air, catching both falling men and hoisting them upward with effortless strength.
Every officer on the bridge froze in place.
He…
he’s actually saving people?