Marvel's Spider-Man: Miles Morales by Brittney Morris

Author:Brittney Morris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan

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TURNS out Terraheal HQ isn’t far from Spanish Harlem, so it doesn’t take me long to get there, and once I do it takes me even less time to assess the situation.

I could call Peter, I know, but this is a petty crime so far. Just… with possible mutant bird-people. Whatever. I can take ’em. I’ve got a great vantage point from this tree on the other side of the fence, where I can see and hear everything. It smells like hand sanitizer and… a hospital. That distinct hospital smell that everyone knows but can’t really describe.

One of the bird beings flies out of an open window holding a box and screeching like a howler monkey, nearly startling me out of this tree, but I grip the trunk and slink down behind a branch full of leaves, and watch. They rip the box to shreds, sending thousands of small, slender items all over the grass. At first I’m alarmed, because I think they’re syringes, but then I realize they’re just popsicle sticks.

Hope all that box-ripping effort was worth it to waste like… $10 of Terraheal’s money.

Then I hear glass shatter as another box comes careening through the window and lands on the concrete in the parking lot. Now that sounded way more expensive. Liquid begins to seep out from under the box, and I wonder what kind of vaccines or cures or whatever might have been inside. I need to stop these people. Beaks, feathers, and all. I’m not the type to go caping for a corporate entity for free, least of all one with shady-sounding practices and a possible kidnapping accusation on Steven’s part, but this is wrong.

Besides, it might give me more intel on where these bird-people came from. First the guy in the alley from Ganke’s video, and now six more terrorizing Terraheal? This is something bigger than a few teens wreaking revenge havoc on a giant corporation. There’s something more going on here, and I intend to find out what it is.

But I know I can’t just swoop down from this tree like one of them and go after all six at once. They’ll all gang up on me. Or worse, scatter. And as fast as I am on a string of web, I’m no match for their wings. So I crawl. Slowly. Down through the branches until my feet find the soft earth. I crouch down low, slinking through the bushes like a panther before my fingers find the fence in a shadowy part of the yard.

More glass shatters from inside the building. What is with these supposed state-of-the-art facilities not having amped-up security? Unless they disabled the security of this whole place. Not unlike Pigeon did at S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Hey!” comes a voice from nearby, startling me. I gasp and duck down as low as I can, just as one of the first two bird creatures—the ones that climbed the fence and hopped over more like humans than birds—steps out of the back door shaking a can of spray paint.

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