Moments like this, Sam really missed flying.

Sam was a small town kid. Open air, middle of the desert, he'd have to hit the road for at least an hour and go to Phoenix just to see a skyscraper. And while he'd had his share of existential teenage angst about rotting in the middle of nowhere and wanting to be where things happened, and he'd at least been able to go places more since he started the superhero gig...he really wasn't in his element. He was at his best with open skies and room to do a few barrel rolls.

If he could still fly, he'd at least be able to get a better look at the terrain, but without being able to do that much, something nasty could be around any corner and he might not know until it was coming right for him.

So here he was, near one of those corners, leaning around to try and get a look down the alley as unobtrusively as possible. He didn't see anything, but was that really worth much? He crouched down to scoop up a small pebble, tossed it down the alley, and waited for something to pop out.

Or preferably, not pop out. That would be even better.