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<span class="mu-r">“Now pull that lever. Slowly! Slowly…”</span> Web said over your shoulder. She was definitely making you more nervous about this whole thing.
Once you’d changed the traction settings on the tires, the Wheel didn’t so much roll as it did glide over the city streets. You weren’t even leaving any visible tire tracks! Despite it weighing as much as it did, it didn’t drag as it traveled, and the amount of noise that was coming from the engine was far quieter than it had any right to be.
No, most of the trouble you were having came from you attempting to avoid every abandoned car or random pedestrian. Web was carefully guiding you down back streets and empty roads so you wouldn’t hit heavy traffic, which was no easy feat by any means in the city that never sleeps.
At the very least, she was helping you to get a decent grasp on the basics of piloting this monster. You’d left Jackson tied up for the cops to come grab him, and you presumed that Racer would be long gone by then. At least he didn’t try to fight you for the right to own the Wall-Crawler. Not that he would’ve stood a chance, but you considered it as a distinct possibility.
<span class="mu-r">“Take this next right.”</span> Web advised you.
<span class="mu-r">“I know how to get home from here!”</span> you snapped, feeling your nerves fraying at the edges.
<span class="mu-r">“Don’t take that tone with me, young man!”</span> she shot back, her voice filled with indignation.
You sighed and readjusted your grip on the steering wheel.
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About 20 minutes later, you were back at home, pulling into your massive garage. The Wall-Crawler was far from inconspicuous, so you couldn’t be absolutely certain that you weren’t followed, but at the very least, they’d have a hell of a time tracking you with the stealth mode active for most of the ride.
Madame Web left you alone soon after you’d arrived, promising to have the money sent to your account in the morning. All in all, you were feeling pretty good about the way this night ended. You cleaned up the city a bit, made a profit, and got away with a sweet new ride.
Your expression was a smug one as you pulled into the garage and closed the gate behind you. Whereas Sam was just gaping at you, cautiously backing away until his back was against the wall.
<span class="mu-s">“W-what the hell is that thing!?”</span> he said.
<span class="mu-r">“My new ride! Do you like it?”</span> you asked, reaching a hand out through the hole you made and tapping its side.
<span class="mu-s">“It-it’s a…giant wheel.”</span> he stammered.
<span class="mu-r">“Very observant!”</span> you said, opening the side door and sliding out of the driver’s seat. <span class="mu-r">“It could use a new paint job, though.”</span>
Sam seemed to have caught his breath and calmed down, because he walked closer to you in order to get a better look.
<span class="mu-s">“You could probably lose the winches, too.”</span> he said, becoming contemplative for a moment.
<span class="mu-r">“The arms?”</span>
<span class="mu-s">“Yeah. Either that, or you could shorten them—use more lightweight materials, maybe.”</span>
(Cont.)
