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

  Mr. Parsons raised his hand and pointed at the man that had been standing beside him that I noticed earlier. The one with the steely gaze, the amazingly neutral expression despite the circumstances.

  The man stepped forward. He was tall, slim, and for the first time since the broadcast started, I noticed he was wearing a strange gray suit. Like a hero suit. On it, a silver crest, like a lightning bolt.

  He stood at the podium. He stared out at the crowd, but it wasn’t like he was really looking at them. It wasn’t like he was really even there.

  “We’ve embraced what we’ve learned from the creation of the ULTRAs and we’ve put it towards something new. Instead of the ULTRAs being able to make weapons of themselves, subject to their own moral and ethical standards, the ULTRAbots are our weapon. Humanity’s weapon against not just ULTRAs, but everything from petty theft to terrorism. Everything. They are the second generation of security. The ULTRAs—formerly known as Heroes—were the alpha project. This is the final model.”

  I felt sick. I didn’t know what to think about any of this, but I could see where it was going. The janitor I’d fought at the school. The robotic way it moved. The way it malfunctioned. It was an ULTRAbot. It was one of these things.

  I swore I saw a smile on Mr. Parsons’ face as he looked down at the podium once more. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I definitely noticed something.

  “I understand your concerns,” he said, as the cameras flashed, as chatter picked up amongst the crowd of press. “I understand your fears. We made mistakes with the ULTRAs in the past. How will this be any different? Well, ladies and gents, this will be different because we can program the ULTRAbots. Just like a blank hard drive, we can install whatever OS we desire onto it. And right now, we’ve only got one thing installed on these ULTRAbots. Only one goal for them. One purpose.”

  He walked around the back of the ULTRAbot. Put his hand on it. It didn’t even flinch.

  “The ULTRAbots are programmed to hunt down every single ULTRA on the planet, whether we know their identity or not. They are programmed to capture and destroy, where possible, every single ULTRA. To keep the world safe.”

  I saw a sudden shift in the eyes of the ULTRAbot. I saw it come to life, like it had an idea in its mind.

  And then I saw it look directly down the camera.

  Look directly into my eyes like it knew I was there.

  “For the ULTRAs out there,” Mr. Parsons said, his hand still on the back of the ULTRAbot, “I have a message for you. The United States of America has a message for you. The whole world has a message for you. You will not defeat humanity!”

  The press roared. People stood, applauded. Even Mike started clapping, and I swore I saw a smile on Ellicia’s face.

  I needed to get away.

  I needed to get out of here.

  “And this is just one ULTRAbot,” Mr. Parsons said. “One ULTRAbot joining an army of hundreds. Thousands. An army that is growing every second; that is getting stronger every minute.”

  Mr. Parsons looked into the camera this time.

  “You can try to run. You can try to hide. But this time, you will not succeed.”

  More clapping from the press. More applause. A big grin on the face of the president.

  Mr. Parsons looked down the camera, right into my eyes.

  “The ULTRAbots will destroy every trace of ULTRAs on this planet. Within a week.”

  The ULTRAbot sprung to life, shot up, right through the roof of the press room, knocking dust and rubble down with it.

  I listened to the cheering, to the applause, to the joy, and I wanted to disappear.

  11

  I lay on my bed and stared at the ceiling as the events of earlier replayed in my mind.

  It was the middle of the night. Well, early hours of the morning. That’s what everyone means when they say “the middle of the night,” right? I hadn’t got a wink of sleep even though it had to be some time past three a.m., ’cause I’d checked my phone a short while back and it’d been 2:50. Outside, I could hear a strong breeze rattling at my window. I could feel the foundations of my house creaking. The snowstorm was strong, apparently, and it was going to hit New York for six. Flights would be delayed. Vacations in the city would be canceled. Transport was going to come to an absolute standstill.

  But nobody cared because the government had just declared war on the “terrorist” ULTRAs raining chaos on the world.

  Nobody cared because the ULTRAbots were going to protect them, save their lives.

  Nobody cared but me. An ULTRA who was going to be hunted down by those very ULTRAbots.

  I tried to close my eyes, but all I saw was that broadcast. The president’s speech. Mr. Parsons and his defiant stance. The introduction of the ULTRAbots—a radically new form of security designed for one reason only: to hunt down ULTRAs.

  They hadn’t gone into specifics. They hadn’t explained how the ULTRAbots worked, how they were able to hunt down ULTRAs. But they’d talked about programming and I knew that meant they had to have a way of detecting who was an ULTRA and who wasn’t. They had to have a way of deciphering the good from the bad. And to the world, ULTRAbots were good because ULTRAbots were on the side of humanity.

  ULTRAs were bad, all over again.

  I wondered whether anyone had spared a thought for Glacies. If they’d remember what he—I—had done for the world. I’d taken down Nycto. I’d risked everything to protect humanity. And now the people of the world were going to allow the governments to hunt people like me down, just like they were hunting down the rest of those attackers. Because to them, I was just the same.

  I remembered Angel’s words. “There’s a storm coming. And we need you there when it arrives.” And now more than ever, I heard her loud and clear.

  She’d spoken of fighting. Just like the Figure in Black told me I had to kill my Kyle Peters identity if I wanted to survive, that I couldn’t live two lives ’cause it was too dangerous; she wanted me to give everything up.

  But I wasn’t ready to give everything up. I was a seventeen-year-old with a whole life ahead of me. Sure, Ellicia had broken up with me, but I still didn’t want to accept it was over.

  I wanted to be able to live my two lives just like I was supposed to all along, just like I had been doing these last six months since taking down Nycto.

  I got out of bed. I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest. I looked out the window at my street. The snow was falling heavier than I thought. Tomorrow, they’d have to plow the streets, and people would have to shovel snow off their cars. I thought about Dad and the work on the car I’d done with him. The lessons we were supposed to be going on. If I gave up on Kyle Peters and fought back against the ULTRAbots, I’d give up on that. If I gave up on Kyle Peters, I’d be giving up on Damon. On Ellicia. On college. On everything.

  If I gave up on Kyle Peters, I gave up on life.

  Right now, I wasn’t ready to give up on life.

  I walked back over to my bed. I didn’t lie down on it, just sat on the edge of it, put my face into my cold hands.

  I wished there was an easier way to make this decision. But no doubt the ULTRAbots would be targeting the ULTRAs who’d launched those devastating attacks first. I wondered who those ULTRAs even were. Where they’d come from. Why they were attacking innocent people. It all seemed so off. All seemed so strange.

  And for some reason, I couldn’t get Mr. Parsons’ smirk when he looked back down at the podium out of my mind.

  But the fact was, the ULTRAbots would target the attackers first. People wanted retribution. They wanted revenge. That would be the way they started.

  And for all the fist-pumping and bravado, I wondered if those ULTRAbots could really trace ULTRAs. That was surely just something the government was saying to make people feel safer. Their targets would be the attackers. The real enemies. Everyone else was safe, however many “everyone else” was.

  I thought about Angel and wondered where she stood on this. What she
meant. How she knew the storm was coming.

  But I knew there wasn’t a thing I could do about it.

  I lay back on my bed. Stared up at the ceiling. Listened to the crackling of the heating, the whirr of the wind.

  I had to leave the government, the ULTRAbots, to do their job.

  There was nothing I could do to fight. There were too many people I cared about. Too many people in this life I wasn’t giving up on. Not for anything.

  And the world Angel offered… well, that world was scary. That was a world I wasn’t ready for. It was a door to someplace dark and unknown that I wasn’t sure I wanted to even peek inside because just peeking inside would rob me of who I really was.

  Kyle Peters.

  I closed my eyes. Swallowed a lump in my throat.

  I wasn’t giving myself up.

  I wasn’t giving the life I’d been living up.

  I was just going to keep a low profile for as long as I had to, just like I had been doing for six months.

  I was going to fight for both my lives. I was going to do whatever I had to.

  As sleep finally approached, I dreamed of screams, of explosions, of thrashing and murmuring as someone held my little body underwater.

  12

  Vesper stood on the rooftop of his Chelsea apartment and wished today’s news had turned out… different. Very different.

  The night was black, but it was lit up with the fall of snow. It was cold and frosty, and Vesper knew he must be mad to be up here, all on his own, foregoing sleep just after he’d learned of the greatest threat to his existence since… well, since Saint.

  After all, he was Orion.

  He was the one who’d caused the Great Blast.

  He looked down at all the buildings. Imagined the people lying in their beds, sleeping soundly now they knew the ULTRAbots were on their way to take down every ULTRA in existence. The claims had been strong, and unlike anything he’d expected. Sure, he’d often wondered how long it’d be before the government attempted to attack the ULTRAs that they knew were out there—ULTRAs like him.

  But the way everything had played out. The ten attacks in a row, all over the world, by ULTRAs, some of whom looked familiar, but most of which seemed… unfamiliar.

  It was strange, to say the least.

  “Question: why always the damned rooftop? Why not a nice warm cafe with a cup of coffee? And why five a.m.?”

  Vesper turned around and saw Angel standing by his side. He hadn’t heard her come up here. But that was part of what she was so good at. Not only was she extremely sneaky and quiet, but she could shift her form, too. You could see someone on the street, and it could be Angel. You could see your friend; it could be Angel. He hadn’t met anyone quite as strong, quite as powerful a shapeshifter, since Saint.

  “Don’t you read the papers?” Vesper asked.

  Angel wiped some snow from her shoulders. She was wearing a long, black overcoat. Her legs were bare around her ankles. She was wearing heels without socks. No wonder she was cold. “Does anyone read the papers nowadays? No. No, but I saw the news alright. Saw it clear. The ULTRAs, the government. How d’you think it’s going down?”

  Vesper looked back out over the city. The lights of the distant Midtown looked so pretty at this hour. So relaxing. Sometimes he wished he could throw himself into those lights and let all his responsibilities go. “Roadrunner claims it’s a breakout. Over at Area 64.”

  Angel nodded. “That’d figure. Always wondered about that place, especially after what Kal said when he actually did manage to get out. Could never get near it after that. Fried if we went within inches of it.”

  Vesper thought back to that day four years ago. One of their friends, Kal, had heard talk of a prison for ULTRAs over in the Mojave Desert. It added up because a lot of ULTRAs—all of whom were laying low after the showdown between Saint and Orion—were going missing out of the blue. Only Kal got caught, and he got out claiming he’d seen all sorts of horrors, more imprisoned ULTRAs than anyone could imagine.

  Kal also said he heard talks that the government was working on things, too. Experimenting on live ULTRAs to create the perfect ULTRA. An ULTRA that bent totally to humanity’s will.

  The final product.

  Kal went completely insane soon after.

  “I’m thinking some kinda setup,” Angel said, rubbing her arms. Her hair looked thicker and darker than it did when Vesper last looked at her. Adapting to the climate. “I’m thinking the government had those ULTRAs trapped in Area 64 just so that they could find an excuse to release ’em one day. Release the ULTRAs, cause a bitta mayhem, then bingo—there’s the excuse for launching the ULTRAbots. ‘Saving the world.’ Really, all it is is an excuse for increased security. For suffocating democracy and freedom even more. All in the name of freedom. All in the name of fear.”

  Vesper considered Angel’s theory. It was a good one, and a perfectly valid one at that. It was a theory he’d thought about and considered himself a few times.

  “Well?” Angel said. “Anything? Or am I gonna have to beg you for an answer?”

  “Kyle Peters,” Vesper said, changing the subject. “Glacies. How did he react to your visit?”

  Angel rolled her eyes and brushed her hair out of her face. It thinned with a twitch, turned a lighter shade. “Oh, he was a waste of space. Too worried about some girl or other to give a damn about what I had to say.”

  Vesper felt a speck of anger twinge inside. “I told you to be straight with him. To be direct.”

  “Have you ever tried being direct with a teenage boy in the bathroom? A teenage boy who’s desperate to get out? No. I didn’t think so. If you have, well. That’s the kinda stunt that gets men in black coats and bowler hats arrested.”

  Vesper turned away. He felt annoyed at Kyle, especially after the single conversation they’d had in the past. He’d kept a close eye on Kyle in the last six months. After he had defeated Nycto, he’d watched him living an ordinary life as a teenager. He’d watched him go on dates, kiss Ellicia. He’d almost felt happy for the boy.

  How couldn’t he feel happy for the boy? Kyle was his son.

  But there was something else he felt when he saw Kyle, too. Annoyance. Irritation. Because Kyle was spending some of his time as Glacies. He was averting crime situations. He was thwarting attacks. He was keeping a low profile, sure, but not low enough. And Vesper knew Kyle thought he was invincible and invisible if he kept out of the public eye. He thought he could go on living a double life.

  But he was wrong.

  He was so, so wrong.

  And if the rise of the ULTRAbots didn’t make him realize that, he wasn’t sure what would.

  “Anyway,” Angel said. “I’m through with that jackass. He’s all yours. Now let’s talk ULTRAbots. Let’s talk strategy. And strategy does not include standing on an apartment roof like some cliche movie superhero and ‘musing’ as we stare into the night.”

  Contrary to Angel’s wishes, Vesper didn’t speak for a short while. Not because he was superficially “musing,” but because things like this genuinely did take him time to work out, to figure out. He’d always liked to think things through, deeply. Deep thought was the best way to avert a crisis, to avoid chaos.

  And as much as he knew he should be thinking about the ULTRAbots right now, it was Kyle Peters in his mind.

  Because he needed Kyle Peters. Everyone needed Kyle Peters. Kyle was strong. Stronger than him, stronger than everyone.

  Because he’d created him.

  His mind wandered to the water. To the fight back of that baby. To the arguing, to being told he shouldn’t do this ’cause it was morally wrong, ethically wrong.

  But he’d known right then when he’d held Kyle down that he was doing the right thing.

  He couldn’t be Orion anymore. Not as strong as he was. He’d had to change his identity. He’d become too accustomed to that sheer level of power, and he needed to balance it out, so he didn’t accidentally cause chaos again, jus
t like he had with the Great Blast.

  He knew that power would awaken in young, innocent Kyle Peters one day, just as it had with him all those years back.

  He just wished he’d had more time to guide Kyle on his journey from ULTRA to true Hero.

  “So anyway, genius. What you reckon? Mind-washed ULTRAs released from jail and told to attack the public? Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  “I’m not sure,” Vesper said.

  Angel narrowed her eyes. “You ain’t sure? I didn’t stay awake till five a.m. for you not to be sure.”

  “The ULTRAs I saw. The ones committing the attacks. I didn’t recognize any of them. Just the first one. An ULTRA specializing in electricity who I know as Bolt. I believe he was imprisoned in Area 64 many years ago.”

  Angel paused. “Bolt. Original. Anyway. Your point is?”

  “It just seems… weird, that’s all. I mean, they didn’t have the same demeanor as the ULTRAbots. And several of them I didn’t recognize as escapees from Area 64; ULTRAs that went missing around the time.”

  “But you can’t pretend to know every ULTRA in existence, man. Maybe they were ones Area 64 picked up from the other side of the world, y’know?”

  Vesper thought about the looks on those ULTRAs’ faces as they’d caused chaos all over the world. “Maybe,” he said.

  He didn’t tell Angel what his major fear was. The younger looking ULTRAs. He didn’t tell her because he didn’t totally know what it meant yet.

  He had a fear. A feeling.

  But he didn’t act on feelings.

  He acted on logic.

  “I just can’t believe that brat’s gonna let the world burn while we sit around figuring out what the hell to do.”

  Hearing his son described as a brat stung, but Angel had a point. Glacies was powerful. More powerful than anyone. And he was the only one capable of leading the fight against the ULTRAbots. Not just physically, but mentally, too. There was a reason Vesper couldn’t use his full powers. There was a reason he couldn’t fight as he used to as Orion.