After returning Jack safely to his father’s arms, Peter didn’t stay to receive thanks.
The father collapsed to his knees, clutching his son with trembling hands, tears running freely down his face.
Jack buried his face in his father’s chest, still wearing the lingering fear of the bridge in his wide eyes.
Around them, people watched in stunned silence.
Peter looked at the reunion for only a second.
That was enough.
A warmth spread quietly through his chest, but he forced himself to move.
The night was far from over.
With a quick nod, he turned, vaulted over the side of Williamsburg Bridge, and disappeared into the darkness below.
He was searching for The Lizard.
The monster had vanished into the water after retreating, and Peter wasn’t foolish enough to believe that meant the danger was over.
A creature that size, with that strength and speed, couldn’t simply be ignored.
If it returned while civilians were still trapped on the bridge, the result would be a massacre.
Peter landed on one of the bridge supports near the waterline and crouched low, scanning the dark surface below.
Nothing.
Only black water.
Only broken reflections of fire and emergency lights.
Only the distant roar of sirens and the frightened cries of people above.
He waited.
Listened.
Watched.
His Spider-Sense remained quiet.
Too quiet.
The river had swallowed every trace of The Lizard.
Peter clenched his fist.
“Great,” he muttered.
“Huge reptile monster disappears into the water.
Nothing suspicious about that.”
He waited a little longer, but there was no movement.
No bubbles.
No ripples large enough to matter.
No yellow eyes watching from beneath the surface.
Eventually, he had no choice.
The bridge above still needed him.
Peter fired a strand of the Web of Destiny upward, pulled himself toward the bridge, and flipped back onto the deck.
The scene had grown even worse.
Traffic was locked in place from both sides.
Vehicles sat twisted together in a chaotic metal maze.
Some drivers had abandoned their cars and were helping others escape.
Others stood frozen, staring at the destruction as if their minds could not accept what their eyes were seeing.
From one end of the bridge, Captain George Stacy arrived on foot with a squad of police officers behind him.
Their police vehicles had been trapped in the traffic jam, forcing them to run the remaining distance.
Fire trucks had also reached the bridge entrance, but the congestion prevented them from getting close enough to help quickly.
Several firefighters were already preparing safety ropes.
Their faces were grim.
Below the bridge, a few vehicles still hung suspended by strands of webbing.
Peter’s webbing.
Inside some of them, people were still trapped.
The firefighters were trying to descend, but every movement was painfully slow.
The bridge height, the wind, the swinging vehicles, the blocked rescue equipment—everything turned the rescue into a nightmare.
Peter’s eyes sharpened.
This was exactly what he had come back to do.
But before he could move, he heard voices nearby.
“He did this!”
“I saw the web stuck to the cars!”
“That masked freak threw them over!”
Peter froze.
Some bystanders were pointing at the webbing and shouting accusations.
A few police officers were already taking statements, their expressions hard and suspicious.
Peter stared at them.
Then at the dangling cars.
Then back at the officers.
“Oh, come on.”
His imagination immediately betrayed him.
Tomorrow’s headlines flashed through his mind.
Masked Menace Attacks Innocent Citizens on Williamsburg Bridge!
Spider-Man’s Evil Web Traps New Yorkers in Death Game!
Who Is Spider-Man, and Why Does He Hate Cars?
Peter shook his head violently.
“Nope.
Not happening.”
He jogged along the edge of the bridge, raising both hands to show he meant no harm.
“Hey!
Let me handle this!
I can get them out faster!”
The reaction was immediate.
“Spider-Man!”
Captain George Stacy turned sharply.
In the next second, several police officers aimed their pistols at Peter.
Peter stopped dead.
Both hands went higher.
“Okay.
Wow.
Lots of guns.
Very dramatic.”
Captain Stacy’s eyes were cold.
“Don’t move.”
Peter tilted his head slightly.
“I wasn’t planning to.
Mostly because of all the guns.”
“Were those webs yours?” Captain Stacy demanded, pointing toward the cars hanging below.
Peter nodded carefully.
“Yes, but—”
“So you admit it.”
Peter blinked.
“That is a very dangerous sentence when you don’t let someone finish.”
Captain Stacy stepped closer, pistol still raised.
“You threw those cars off the bridge and now you want to pretend you’re rescuing people?”
Peter stared at him.
For one tiny second, a completely irresponsible thought passed through his mind.
If this man were not Gwen’s father, Peter might have seriously considered webbing his mouth shut.
Maybe upside down.
Maybe from a lamppost.
But then he imagined Gwen’s face.
Then her boots.
Then those boots landing firmly on his backside.
“Captain, please look at the cars.
Some of them have claw marks.”
Captain Stacy’s gaze narrowed.
Peter raised his hands even higher.
“Big claw marks.
Giant monster claw marks.
Unless you think I grew talons in the last five minutes, this was not me.”
Captain Stacy didn’t lower his weapon.
“Omar,” he said.
One officer looked over.
“Check the nearby vehicles.
Look for claw marks.”
“Yes, Captain Stacy.”
The officer holstered his gun and ran toward the closest damaged cars.
Peter cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Also check the ground!
The big guy walked around like he owned the place!”
Omar stopped and glanced back at Captain Stacy.
Captain Stacy gave a curt nod.
The officer continued.
The standoff remained.
Peter stood still, hands up, while the police watched him like he might explode.
Below them, the rescue operation worsened.
The firefighters had managed to lower one man toward a dangling car, but both the rescuer and the vehicle swayed in the wind.
The car twisted on its webline.
The firefighter swung from his rope.
The distance between them shifted constantly.
Two moving targets in open air.
One wrong move, and both could fall.
The firefighter finally reached the vehicle and pulled one passenger out.
It was Niels van Rader.
His expensive suit was torn.
His hair was a mess.
His face was pale with terror.
The arrogance he had worn earlier like armor had completely shattered.
The firefighter secured him and signaled upward.
Then a stronger gust of wind swept across the river.
The rope went taut.
Niels panicked.
“Ah!
Ahhh!”
He wrapped himself around the firefighter like a drowning man clutching driftwood.
“Don’t move!” the firefighter shouted.
But fear had already devoured Niels’ reason.
“I am Niels van Rader!” he screamed.
“Head of the bio-research department at Osborn Corporation!
You must rescue me safely, or I’ll sue every one of you!”
The firefighter looked like he wanted to throw him into the river himself.
Above, Peter’s eyes narrowed.
He heard something.
A faint sound beneath the bridge.
Tearing.
The rope was rubbing against the sharp lower edge of the structure.
Again.
And again.
The wind pushed them sideways.
The rope scraped harder.
Peter’s Spider-Sense pulsed.
Danger.
Immediate danger.
The fibers began to split.
Peter moved before anyone else understood what was happening.
Captain Stacy shouted, “Spider-Man!”
Peter ignored him and leaped over the side of the bridge.
For half a second, the police thought he was escaping.
Then they rushed to the railing.
What they saw made them freeze.
Peter shot downward, one hand extended.
The rope snapped.
Niels and the firefighter dropped.
Both men screamed.
Peter fired the Web of Destiny.
Splat!
The web caught them both.
The fall stopped.
The firefighter gasped.
Niels clung to him, speechless for once in his life.
Peter planted his feet against the underside of the bridge, braced his body, and pulled.
Muscle strained beneath the suit.
Webbing tightened.
Slowly, steadily, he hauled both men upward.
On the bridge, the officers stared.
One lowered his gun.
Then another.
Captain George Stacy did not speak.
His face remained stern, but something in his eyes shifted.
Doubt.
Confusion.
Realization.
Peter reached the bridge edge and swung the firefighter and Niels safely onto the deck.
The firefighter rolled onto his back, breathing hard.
Niels collapsed beside him, shaking.
Peter landed lightly on the railing.
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Peter pointed at Niels.
“Good news.
You’re alive.”
Niels stared at him.
Peter added, “Bad news.
You screamed louder than the kid I saved earlier.”
A few people nearby actually laughed.
The tension cracked.
Just a little.
Captain Stacy looked at the rescued firefighter.
The firefighter, still catching his breath, forced himself upright and nodded toward Peter.
“He saved us.”
Those three words struck the crowd harder than any explosion.
Peter looked toward the remaining dangling cars. Find the original chapter at g.com.
“There are still people trapped.”
Captain Stacy’s jaw tightened.
His pride fought with his duty.
Duty won.
He lowered his gun.
“Then save them.”
Peter nodded.
No joke this time.
No quip.
Just action.
He jumped.
The bridge became a battlefield of rescue.
Peter moved faster than any firefighter could.
He crawled beneath the bridge, reinforced weakened webbing, pulled open crushed doors, smashed windows, and carried civilians upward one by one.
A woman with a bleeding forehead.
An elderly man trapped behind a bent steering wheel.
A teenage girl clutching her little brother.
A driver who had passed out from shock.
Each time Peter brought someone back, the shouting on the bridge changed.
Fear became silence.
Silence became hope.
Hope became cheers.
The same people who had cursed him minutes ago now watched him with wide eyes.
Captain Stacy watched too.
Every movement.
Every rescue.
Every risk Peter took without hesitation.
This was not the reckless vigilante he had expected.
This was not a masked criminal trying to cover his tracks.
This was a kid throwing himself into danger again and again because people needed help.
Finally, Peter climbed back onto the bridge, carrying the last trapped passenger over his shoulder.
He set the man down gently beside the paramedics.
Then he straightened, breathing hard.
His suit was scorched in places.
His gloves were torn.
His back still ached.
But every person was safe.
For several seconds, the bridge was quiet.
Then Jack’s voice rang out from the crowd.
“Big Brother Spider-Man!”
Peter turned.
The little boy waved with both hands.
Slowly, others began to clap.
One person.
Then another.
Then many.
The sound spread across the bridge.
Peter stood frozen.
He didn’t know what to do with applause.
He had prepared himself for insults.
For bullets.
For accusations.
Not this.
Captain Stacy stepped closer.
Peter immediately raised one hand.
“Before you say anything, I did not throw the cars.”
Omar returned at that moment, face tense.
“Captain.”
Captain Stacy looked at him.
Omar nodded.
“He was telling the truth.
Claw marks everywhere.
On the cars, on the road, even on the railings.
Whatever did this wasn’t Spider-Man.”
The words settled heavily between them.
Captain Stacy looked back at Peter.
For the first time, his expression was not filled with pure suspicion.
It was still guarded.
Still stern.
But different.
Peter could see it.
A crack in the wall.
Small.
But real.
Captain Stacy holstered his gun.
“You’re not cleared of everything.”
Peter shrugged.
“I’ll take that as progress.”
Captain Stacy stared at him for another second.
Then said, “Stay out of official police operations.”
Peter pointed toward the dangling bridge cables, the burned cars, the injured civilians, and the people still crying in relief.
“Tonight was kind of unofficial.”
Captain Stacy’s mouth twitched.
Almost a smile.
Almost.
Then his radio crackled.
Reports came in from below.
Something had been spotted near the river tunnels.
Something large.
Moving fast.
Peter’s Spider-Sense gave a faint pulse.
His head turned toward the dark water.
Captain Stacy noticed.
“What is it?”
Peter’s voice lost its humor.
“The thing that did this.”
Far below, beneath the bridge and beyond the reach of the lights, something disturbed the surface of the river.
A ripple.
Then another.
Peter crouched on the railing.
The applause faded behind him.
The night grew cold again.
Because the rescue was over… but The Lizard’s hunt had only begun.
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