For a moment, you are sincerely tempted to let the superhero do as he suggested. After all, he must have some superpower, right? Even though he is hurt...and bleeding...and hiding from the villain.... Okay, you are pretty certain he'd be no match for the villain in this state, since it was probably that self-same villain that put him in this state. But what could you do? One-day member of the superhero club that turns into a furry freak? And isn't that supposed to be a secret? If someone figures out your identity, especially the villain...
Every second seems like an hour, and your mind is hurtling forward with terrifying clarity. The hero can't save you if he can't even save himself. You can't use your powers if someone knows it's you. The villain is still there, searching. There's only one way out. The hero is busy looking out the tunnel at the villain, assessing the moment to move.
"Listen, kid, when the villain turns to follow me, you--" the hero's whisper cuts off suddenly. Because you just bashed him in the back of the head with your heaviest hardcover schoolbook. At least AP history class is good for something.
Without wasting time, you get down to business. Stripping amazingly quickly given the cramped space of the tunnel, in no time flat you are a furry scaly spandex-covered creature shoving your clothes in your backpack. Lengthening the straps, you haul the hero over to the side of the tunnel facing away from the villain. You maneuver the hero onto your back, using the backpack almost like a harness around his body strapping it to yours, since you are thinking you might have to use your hands as well in this escape. Raising your knees so you're balanced on your hands and toes, you frown and concentrate.
Speed...I need speed...I need to be fast...faster than anything else...the fastest land animal... You're not sure if this is going to work, but you don't have any other choice. You don't have any time or enough experience to try something else. All you can do is pray you can run fast enough.
Strangely enough, the suit finally seems to respond to your desperation. You feel that weird tingle, and your muscles and body shift slightly. Sure enough, instead of the long claws you had on your hands before, now you have paws with a familiar spotted pattern on the fur.
There's no way to test if taking on the appearance of a cheetah will give you the speed of one. Also, changing into a cheetah probably also will give you all the disadvantages. You had to run in a relatively straight line over hopefully flat terrain in order to make full use of your speed, and you would have a very limited time at maximum output. At least that's the way it looked like it worked on the Discovery Channel. Not to mention you had to find a hidden place to change back, since you didn't know how long the change would last.
For a split second, you wonder just what the hell you are doing. You're not a hero, not really. You could have just let the real hero draw the villain away and crawl back to your normal -- well, relatively normal -- life. You hate this, don't you? Being forced into a situation that you never asked for? You could die. You could get someone killed. You have no time for all this second-guessing. You have to run...NOW.
Tensing yourself to the maximum, you shoot out of the tunnel like a bullet from a gun. You are moving faster than you ever have in your life without a vehicle, but you are surprisingly sure-footed for running on four legs for the first time. Whether that is due to luck or adrenaline, you have no time to ponder. You might just be able to do this. Although you are concentrating on where you are headed, you can't shake the desire to look back and see where the villain is. Is it following you? Did you lose it with your fast exit? But you know you can't turn your head to look over your shoulder, it would mess with your balance, not to mention the body of the hero hanging off your back is blocking some of your view. Still, even though it won't change anything, you need to know.
Finally, as you make a wide turn out of the park exit, you risk turning your head just enough to look back towards the treeline and the tunnel. In that split second, you impossibly make eye contact with something decidedly inhuman, and not just in form. A chill runs down your spine.
It is coming.