A Cry for Help

For the moment, setting aside the conflict between Ezekiel Sims and Abstergo Industries' Alpha Squad, Cathy Weber and the other three escaped the station and irrationally stole a taxi right under the nose of a brown-skinned driver.

The three high school girls sat in the backseat, screaming hysterically. Cathy Weber drove, knowing only to keep her foot on the gas. She had absolutely no idea where they were going.

Cathy Weber might have saved people time and again, but in truth, she had now successfully gotten herself tangled up in this mess. She had no idea how to resolve it, much less how to get out alive.

The Black girl with the fastest mouth and most erratic train of thought, Marty Franklin, kept talking and seeking everyone else's agreement. "That guy was Spider-Man, right? Or maybe Spider-Man's relative? Could we get Spider-Man to deal with this?" "Would finding Spider-Man really solve it?" Anya Corazon asked.

Compared with the South American girl, the last white girl they had pulled aboard was far more restrained and quiet. She had been the last to passively join them, and she understood the situation least of all.

At that moment, Marty Franklin was like a drowning person clutching at a lifeline. She did not care whether her logic made sense, as long as it made sense to herself.

"If we don't find Spider-Man, who else can we find? Who can deal with a monster that can walk on ceilings and appear and disappear without warning? The X-Men? I doubt those Mutants would even bother with us."

Sounding as though she were deliberately arguing, Anya Corazon said dismissively, "Yeah, finding Spider-Man is a great idea. Maybe you have Spider-Man's number, and you can get him here in thirty minutes like a pizza delivery guy."

Marty Franklin