The Last Hero (Book 2): Rise of the Ultras

  Rise of the ULTRAs

  The Last Hero, Book 2

  Matt Blake

  MATTBLAKEAUTHOR.COM

  Contents

  Bonus Content

  Previous The Last Hero Books

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Want More From Matt Blake?

  Copyright

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  Previous The Last Hero Books

  Rise of the ULTRAs is the second book in The Last Hero series.

  If you’d like to read the first book, visit here:

  ULTRA

  1

  Cameron Doyle rushed down the corridor towards Area 64 and hoped to the Lord above that his worst fears weren’t true.

  The corridor was dark, which in itself was unusual. Usually, this tunnel that led right underneath the Mojave Desert for miles—ten, to be exact—was lit with an ambient hue, which always reminded Cameron of a hospital ward. That ambience always came with a hum, too, the only thing cutting through the silence in the total quiet of the desert. He knew there was nothing above him, no cars driving over, no people walking past. And even if there were, he wouldn’t be able to hear them.

  But just the sheer knowledge that he was completely alone not just down here, but above… it gave him the shivers.

  Now there was no light but the torch on his mobile phone, and there was no hum of the ambient lights, Cameron Doyle felt more lonely than he’d ever felt down here before.

  He could taste a bitter hint of sick in his mouth. It’d been something he’d suffered with for years. Acid reflux struck at two times—first thing in the morning, without fail. And whenever he was nervous, without fail.

  It was first thing in the morning.

  And he was terrified.

  There was a metallic smell to the air the further he got down the tunnel, which merged with the smell of his sweat. There was supposed to be air con down here, but that had malfunctioned too. Lights, air conditioning… he just had to pray not everything had malfunctioned. Because if everything had malfunctioned, that’d mean…

  No. He couldn’t think about what it’d mean if everything malfunctioned. There were measures in place. Safety measures. Backup generators to the backup generators. He knew, deep down, that he should’ve pushed harder for a move towards embracing ULTRA powers to keep this place running. ULTRA power was infinite, but they were still trying to harness it without a living being behind it.

  They were getting there. There were experiments—experiments that went way out of his comfort zone.

  But soon enough, like everything in the world, they’d get there.

  He just hoped it wasn’t too late.

  He felt his heart racing and his chest tightening the closer he got to the Area 64 main entrance. Usually, he simply had to stand on a moving walkway, which raced him over to the other side in a matter of seconds. He wasn’t exactly overweight, but he wasn’t all that fit either. He spent most of his time underground, and he didn’t have a family to go home to—unless his elderly mother counted as family. He liked to kick back and watch documentaries on Netflix when he wasn’t down here, underground. Basically, he didn’t move around a lot. He didn’t need to.

  And he was cool with that.

  He felt the walls closing in, and he knew he was close. Part of him just wanted to turn around and run away. Because he didn’t want to be the one to discover the bad news. He didn’t want to be the one to tell Mr. Parsons what had happened. Mr. Parsons wasn’t exactly the forgiving type.

  Besides, he didn’t want to be responsible for the mass of destruction that would occur if his deepest fears were realized.

  He picked up his pace regardless as the walls narrowed some more. In the dim light of his phone torch, he saw a flash of steel, and he recognized the door. A door he’d been through so many times, that he’d felt nervous about going through so many times.

  But never like he felt right now. Never anything like this.

  He slowed down as he approached it. Listened to the perfect silence. Very few people actually worked down here—the security of this area was completely digitized apart from his occasional visits to gather research, check everything was in order. After all, mere humans couldn’t do a thing to protect this place. Nobody could do a thing to protect this place.

  They had fail-safes, of course. Fail-safes in case of disasters. But much like the fail-safes when developing a nuclear device or a particle accelerator, the fail-safes weren’t really rooted in reality. They were just there to make the governments feel better, more secure, about their pursuit of power.

  There were no fail-safes that would be able to control what was through this door.

  There was no power like what was behind this door.

  Cameron lifted his shaking hand. He pressed it against the palm reader.

  Nothing happened.

  For a moment, he didn’t know what was occurring. The palm reading was just the first step in a long series of security measures to get through this door. Palms could be replicated, but reading out a favorite passage from a favorite novel in your exact intonation? Remembering nineteen 18-character passwords and inputting them with the exact sequence of fingers? That wasn’t quite as easy.

  But the palm reading was the first step. And that wasn’t even working.

  Cameron stood still for a few seconds until it dawned on him. Of course the palm reader wasn’t working. If the power were out, so too would this…

  But wait. No. The security system was based elsewhere in the event of a problem like this. Somewhere off the coast of Alaska, remotely powered through tiny wires trailing through the surface of the earth. If anything came within a mile of those underground wires, it’d be fried before it had the chance to explain itself.

  And yet here Cameron was, standing in front of the door, the palm reader not working.

  He lifted his phone. There wasn’t any signal down here, but he had an emergency line where he’d have to report his findings. He lifted it to his ear, dreading breaking the news. He’d have to call it. Someone would have to call it.

  And then he noticed something.

  There was a slight glimmer of light along the side of the door.

&nb
sp; He lowered his phone. Stepped closer to that light. Usually, this door was sound and light proof. But there was a trail alongside the right side. An uneven trail, like the door had been…

  When Cameron put his hand on the door, just lightly, he got his answer.

  The heavy metal door fell forward.

  Crashed down onto the other side with deafening ferocity.

  He tensed for a few seconds. Partly because of the sound of that crash, partly because he didn’t want to face what was behind the door. He didn’t want to see what was inside.

  But eventually, he saw what was inside.

  He saw exactly what was inside.

  Or rather, he saw what wasn’t inside.

  The room was arranged much like a prison. Eight rows of cells, all leading down. Only these weren’t just normal cells. These were cells designed to keep the strongest of forces inside. Unbreakable even to the power of thought.

  All of the cell doors were open.

  Cameron blinked a few times. He couldn’t move a muscle. Eighteen cells on eight floors. That made one hundred and forty-four unaccountable for. One hundred and forty-four of the most powerful things in existence, locked up in this cell for… well, some of them for a long time.

  All of them pissed.

  Pissed at the world for trapping them in here.

  Pissed at the world for—

  Cameron felt the movement behind him before he heard it; before he saw it.

  He didn’t want to turn around. He didn’t want to face whoever was there. He knew it’d be the last face he ever looked at.

  But eventually, tears welling in his eyes, he accepted that turning and looking in that face was a far better fate than reporting a mass escape of imprisoned ULTRAs from the highest security prison on the planet.

  He felt his teeth chattering. Took in as deep a breath as he could. This was his responsibility. This was on him. And he’d failed.

  He turned around and looked the person—the thing—behind him in the eye.

  When he saw what it was, his entire body froze.

  He thought this was the good way out. He thought this was the better way to go.

  But he was wrong.

  He was so, so wrong.

  He scrambled for his phone. Went to dial in HQ with his shaky fingers.

  But then his fingers wouldn’t move. They were locked. Completely locked.

  And so too was the rest of his body.

  “Don’t worry,” the deep voice said. Footsteps moved towards him. He felt a cold shiver cover his body, getting progressively worse by the second. “It’ll be over soon.”

  He felt his body getting stiffer, harder, beyond the point he could move.

  But as he stared the thing opposite in its eyes, he couldn’t hide from his thoughts. He couldn’t hide from the knowledge of what was coming.

  The greatest storm of all was brewing.

  And there was nothing his paralyzed body could do about it.

  There was nothing anybody was going to be able to do about it.

  Nothing, other than pray.

  2

  “Man, all the things we’ve been through and you’re still afraid of some damned bears?”

  I sat opposite the crackling campfire in the total darkness. Truth be told, I was a bit worried about bears, as much as Damon reassured me there were no bears in New York State, black bears aside. I’d read a story a while back that revealed the number of wild animals and escaped zoo animals hiding in the woods.

  And sure. I could handle a wild animal if I really wanted to.

  But I didn’t really want to. I just wanted to be me, Kyle Peters. I just wanted to be a seventeen-year-old kid who camped with his friends and told stupid stories.

  I wanted to be normal.

  But of course, I wanted to save the world every now and then, too.

  “I saw a documentary once,” Avi said. “About this bear that hunted down these kids.”

  “Not sure I wanna hear this right now,” Ellicia said.

  Avi leaned in close to the fire. It lit up his face. Not literally. “They sneaked away, all four of ’em. Ended up back home, back in the city. But the bear was onto their scent.”

  “I think I can see where this is going,” I said.

  “It sneaked into their home at night,” Avi said, the excitement in his voice showing how much he was enjoying himself. “Unlocked the door with its big bear nails.”

  Ellicia giggled. Damon looked a little… well, he looked a little afraid, not gonna lie.

  “And then it crept up the stairs. Walked into the first kid’s bedroom. Leaned over with its mega sharp teeth, slavering all over, and it went… BOOM!”

  Avi clapped his hands together and shouted that last word. It made Damon jump a bit, but me and Ellicia were totally still. Must’ve seen it coming from a mile away.

  “Great story,” I said. “How long did that one take you?”

  “Hey,” Avi said, stoking the fire. The heat of the flames was intense but nice in the biting cold of early December. Yeah, camping in December. Must be crazy. But we had plenty of sleeping bags, and Damon promised he’d huddle us all like penguins if it got too cold. “At least I have a few real stories of my own, bro. Not like you, fallin’ to sleep in, I dunno, only the biggest news story of the last forever years.”

  I knew what Avi was referring to, and I felt my mind wandering as the smell of the burning wood filled my nostrils, blurred with those past memories. Half a year had passed since I’d embraced Glacies, my ULTRA identity, and taken down Nycto. Since that day, there’d been hunts for Glacies, but a sense of calm had set in. Most key figures thought he was dead. And anyway, people weren’t fighting as much. The world seemed relieved again. Relieved to get another chance at living.

  I hadn’t exactly retired Glacies. There were times when I still used him. To fight crime. To stop assaults.

  But I knew the truth of the life I was living now.

  I had to keep my identity quiet. I had to keep Glacies out of the limelight.

  Sure, I had people to look out for. But more important than that, I had a life as a seventeen-year-old to live. I had camping trips to go on.

  Oh, and I had a girlfriend.

  I felt Ellicia squeeze my hand. It still seemed surreal that stuff like this was happening to me, as we sat under the stars listening to Damon and Avi talk about the latest shows they were watching on streaming TV, as well as whether the next iPhone was gonna be as revolutionary as everyone was predicting.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Me okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I squeezed her hand back. “Just tired. And cold. And hungry. And—”

  “Questioning why in the hell we’re out here in mid-December?”

  I smiled. “Something like that.”

  Of course, there were obvious reasons for me wanting to keep Glacies a secret. I had the ability to move at super speed, to teleport, to turn invisible. If I really concentrated, I could embrace super strength and fly. If I concentrated even harder, I could make weird ice-like stuff fire outta my hands, and heal myself. Again, a neat party trick, but not one I could go showing off in a world still hostile to ULTRAs despite all the good most of them had done. Myself included.

  But there were other reasons I held off Glacies too. Not just because it was revealed that Nycto was Daniel Septer, a guy from our school, ramping the whole school paranoia up to the max. But because I was actually feeling better about myself, Kyle Peters. I felt more confident since I’d fought off Nycto; since I’d saved the world. And the strength Glacies gave me had seeped over into my normal life. It’d made me ask Ellicia out. It put me here, camping in the middle of December. It made me do things I never used to do when I was too much of a wuss to do them and say things I’d never say when people were putting me down.

  Glacies was cool, sure. I owed everything to Glacies. Being Glacies had made me stronger. It’d made me believe in myself for the first time since my sister di
ed over eight years ago in the Great Blast.

  I was stronger because of Glacies, sure. But I had a life to live as Kyle Peters. I didn’t need to be an ULTRA anymore to be strong in my own life.

  But there were times when I needed to be an ULTRA for other reasons.

  Almost on cue, I heard Damon swear. “Shit.”

  I saw the concern on his face. “Whatsup?”

  Damon rubbed the back of his neck. “Some hostage situation down my street. Armed robbers inside a nightclub. Holding loadsa innocent people hostage.”

  I felt a wave of sickness cover me, a wave of duty charge through me. “What do they want?”

  Damon shrugged. “I dunno. Looks like some kinda revenge job on the owner.”

  “But why should innocent people have to pay?” Ellicia said.

  “They shouldn’t,” I muttered.

  “Huh?”

  I shook my head and zoned back in. “Nothing. I, um… I’m gonna go take a leak.”

  I squeezed Ellicia’s hand again and then I stood up. Headed towards the pitch blackness of the trees.

  “Don’t get eaten by a bear!” Damon called.

  “I’ll try not to. But if you don’t hear from me… well, you’re just gonna have to come looking for me.”

  “Screw that,” Avi said.

  I smiled. That was exactly what I wanted to hear.

  I’d be a little longer. They’d think I was messing around. Eventually, I’d give up and go back to join them.

  Yeah. That’s what I wanted them to believe. What they had to believe.

  Of course, I was doing something completely different.

  I stood behind a tree and looked up at the jet black night sky. I could hear the city in the distance.

  I held my breath, focused on everything that made me mad, focused on the people I’d lost, the screams I’d heard, and then I shot myself back into my bedroom. The teleportation had been hard to master at first, but it was getting more seamless. It was like using any muscle. I had to keep practicing. Had to keep perfecting what I was doing.