Revenge of the ULTRAs (The Last Hero Book 4) (15 page)

E
llicia saw
the news about the attacks across America and she knew she wasn’t safe.

The afternoon sun peeked in through her blinds, which were closed. Her room was warm and stuffy. She wanted nothing more than to get outside in the fresh air. She wanted to spend time with Kyle, just how she used to.

But she knew things had changed with Kyle. Kyle couldn’t be the person she wanted him to be. He couldn’t even be the person
he
wanted to be.

He had responsibilities, now. Duties.

The Kyle Peters Ellicia fell in love with was long gone.

In his place, someone she couldn’t help being frightened of.

Not because she thought he’d hurt her. She knew Kyle. He’d never hurt her. But she was frightened of him because she worried just how far he’d go to win his side of the fight.

And if the rumors that Daniel Septer—Nycto—was gone were true, then she didn’t know what to think at all.

She just hoped Kyle hadn’t taken it too badly. After all, he hadn’t long been aligned with Daniel himself.

She walked across her bedroom back at her parents’ place and looked into her suitcase. She’d stuffed tons of clothes inside it. She wasn’t sure where exactly she was going to go, but she knew she had to get away from here.

She looked back at the television. The sound of the voices in the studio all bouncing off one another made her head hurt, filled her mouth with the taste of sick. She saw the reports of the attacks—random attacks in random parts of the country—and she knew it couldn’t be good news. It made the hairs on her arms stand on end because it reminded her of another dark time.

The night the ULTRAs and the ULTRAbots went to war.

And she knew damn well how that ended.

She tried to close her suitcase, but it was too stuffed to force shut. She sighed, opened it up again, and threw a few clothes onto her bedroom floor. She kept on going, furious, caught in a daze. She felt tears building up. How had it come to this? How had everything reached this point?

When she got to the middle of the suitcase, she saw a photograph.

She picked it out of the case and held it close to her face.

It was a photograph of her and Kyle in Central Park. She remembered it as one of the first dates they’d been on, right by the lake. Kyle was squinting, and his ice cream was melting down his hand. Ellicia was giggling, and both her eyes were closed, too.

But as she looked at that photograph, which she loved so much she’d had it printed, she smiled. That was them, in a nutshell. That was Goofy Kyle, in a nutshell.

All that was gone.

No. All that couldn’t be gone.

They had something special. There had to be something left. There had to—

A knock at her front door.

She turned around and faced her bedroom door. It was wide open.

She felt goose pimples on her skin. She swore she’d closed her bedroom door. And there was no chance anyone else had opened it. Her parents were away for the night, so she was house sitting. She had an apartment of her own now, which Kyle had kindly sorted out for her. Anywhere in the world, he’d told her. Anywhere. And she just couldn’t bring herself to turn her back on Staten Island. She just couldn’t run away in fear from New York.

But now, her thoughts were focused on one thing.

Who had opened that door?

She sat there in that weird silence that always followed a loud, shocking noise. She listened for footsteps outside her house. She listened for a cough or some kind of chatter. She just needed to know if there was someone out there, still, and if so, who it was.

Heart pounding, Ellicia took a few calming breaths. She didn’t have to go down there. It was probably just the mailman delivering a parcel. She could go collect the parcel later. She just didn’t want to answer the door. She didn’t want to—

Another knock.

This time, louder. Harder.

Ellicia stepped off her bed and walked out of her bedroom. She crept across the hallway, keeping as quiet as she could. She wanted to get to the peephole and take a look through.

But already, as she descended her stairs, she got the feeling that there was someone else inside, and she got that awful sensation telling her to get out of there. Fast.

She reached the bottom of the stairs. Her heart raced even faster now. She didn’t want to go over to that door, but she could see a vague silhouette behind it.

She had to know who it was.

She had to see.

She closed her eyes. Gritted her teeth.

Then she moved her eye toward the peephole.

When she saw who it was, she felt her shoulders sink, and the tightness of her body release.

She opened the door. “Avi. Jesus, you scared me.”

Avi looked terrified. He was pale and shaking. He kept on looking over his shoulder.

“Avi? What is it?”

“There’s someone following me. I swear.”

Ellicia popped her head out of the front door. “I can’t see—”

“I just know. I just know.”

When Ellicia made eye contact with him, she had to admit that she knew exactly what Avi meant.

She just knew someone was watching, too. She knew someone was coming.

“We have to get out of this city,” she said, turning around and going back into the house. “If the stories of Adam’s followers attacking the ULTRAs are true, then he’ll want Kyle and maybe even Damon dead, too.”

“Screw those guys,” Avi said. “They ain’t nothin’ anymore.”

Ellicia shook her head. “That’s not true. They’re your best friends. And I’m not gonna let you give up on them.”

She started to climb the stairs. She waited for Avi’s footsteps to follow, but she didn’t hear any.

“Come on,” she said. “Give me a lift with my stuff. Avi?”

She turned around.

Avi wasn’t standing there anymore.

In his place, a tall, slim guy with dark, curly hair and luscious green eyes.

He had his hands behind his back. His smile was infectious but icy. Like there was nothing behind it.

“Hello, Ellicia,” he said. “I’m Adam. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

I
sipped back
my eighth beer and felt so much better about myself.

If only that were true.

Yes, I was sipping on a drink. I was in some rundown South American bar, which other than me, was completely empty. But instead of beer, it was Coca Cola I was drinking.

When I’d got here, I saw how empty the place was and expected the bartender to just hand over the booze. After all, I had my hood up. I was pretty well built these days. He had to believe I was legally able to drink—or at least he had to be short enough on business that he’d just hand over a pint, right?

But he hadn’t. He’d looked into my eyes and told me I couldn’t drink if I had no ID. Of course I didn’t have any ID. Usually, my face was ID these days, and I wasn’t too keen to go revealing that so much right now. And sure, I could head somewhere else, or just find a way to manipulate the guy into believing I was legally able to drink, or, hell, I could just beat the guy until he poured me a beer.

But I wasn’t in the mood for fighting. I wasn’t in the mood for using any of my powers. Not now. Not ever again.

All I wanted was to jump from place to place around the world and keep as low a profile as possible.

After all, when I did anything else, I was dangerous.

I sipped back the slimy Coke. It tasted off, if it was possible for Coke to take off. It was like it’d been stuck in the back of this place for years. It wasn’t particularly cold, either, which confirmed my fears that it hadn’t been in a fridge.

But I didn’t care. Course I didn’t care.

I listened to the tropical music playing. All around the bar, mosquitos and flies flew about. Some of them head butted my sweaty body, so I just wafted them away. Above my head, a rotating fan did a terrible job of cooling the air.

The bartender kept on glaring over at me.

When we made eye contact, he tended to look away.

But this time, he stayed focused.

“I know who you are,” he said.

I tensed my fists and got ready for trouble.

He cleaned the inside of a glass with a towel. “Hey. Don’t you go trashing my bar. You are free to drink here. I’m just saying. I know who you are.”

He sounded calm when he spoke. And that made me wonder if actually he wasn’t so bad after all. That maybe he was indeed cool with me being here.

“So you’re a villain after all, hmm?”

“I guess if the media say that’s what I am, then that’s what I am.” I went to drink some more of the warm, syrup-like Coke.

“You know, the media did the same to us.”

“Hmm?”

“Colombia. The media make us look bad. They say we nothing but drug barons. They say there’s no order here. But that’s not true. We have problems, but so does everywhere. And we are getting stronger. We are getting better.”

I forced a smile, eager to get out of this place and away from this man’s harassment. “Well good for you.”

“We didn’t just flick a switch and things were okay, though. We earned it. We had to work hard, all of us, the whole country. And yes. We still have problems. But we’re better now. Because we knew that if we wanted respect, we had to earn it.”

The bartender walked away from me towards the back of the bar. He emerged with a half-pint glass, and poured it half full with beer. He pushed it across the bar, right in front of me.

I frowned. “What’s this?”

“Half of a half pint. Don’t want you drinking and flying. Not in my country.”

I sighed, tilted my head, and lifted the glass. “Thanks. I guess.”

He nodded, that constant stern look still etched across his face. Then he disappeared from the bar.

I went to drink the beer. The closer it got to my lips, the more uncertain I got about it. Was this who I wanted to be? Kyle Peters, former superhero, present occupation: drunk bum. Glacies, the alcoholic ULTRA. Was that the legacy I really wanted to pass down to those I wanted to inspire?

I thought about Cassie, Vortex, Stone, and Ember, wherever they were. I knew if they saw me like this, they’d be ashamed. Because no matter what, we were supposed to fight for what we believed in. Even if what we believed in meant handing ourselves over to the government.

My duty was to the people of Earth, though. And they’d spoken loudly. So loudly that my best friend had tried to take my powers away and destroyed my biological brother in the process.

But then that was no peaceful world. That wasn’t the idealistic vision of the future the protesting people wanted or deserved.

That was just the power-crazed fantasy of a megalomaniac.

Another false god telling the people how to serve him.

I put the beer down when the grainy CRT television from like, the nineteen thirties, caught my eye.

There was breaking news in New York. Attacks on ULTRAs. Only they weren’t random attacks. They were co-ordinated. By Adam.

I saw the next shot cut away from the footage near Central Park.

I recognized this place.

It was right outside my dad’s old mechanics. Right on Staten Island.

Adam’s followers were in the streets.

I felt dread cover me. I wanted to stay put. I didn’t want to cause any more death, any more destruction.

But then if Adam’s followers were in Staten Island and the rumors were that they were hunting down the original ULTRAs, then that meant they could question those closest to me.

That meant Avi, Ellicia, and Dad were in danger.

And it meant Cassie was in danger.

And maybe even Damon was in danger.

I remembered what the bartender had said.
“We didn’t just flick a switch and things were okay, though. We earned it. We had to work hard, all of us, the whole country. And yes. We still have problems. But we’re better now. Because we knew that if we wanted respect, we had to earn it.”

And he was right. He was totally right.

I might have a negative image.

People might hate me.

But I wasn’t winning the haters back by sitting around here and getting drunk.

I went to teleport away from Colombia when the door to the bar opened.

The second the massive crowd walked in, I knew from the looks on their faces that they were ULTRAs.

Adam’s followers.

“Sorry, Glacies.”

I turned around.

The bartender stood behind the bar.

His hands were covered in throwing knives.

And he was getting ready to throw them.

D
amon zipped
his hoodie right up over his chin and pulled his hood over his eyes. He didn’t want anyone to see him. Not since he’d heard the news.

It was the middle of the afternoon, but the early sun was making way for thick, gray clouds. It made it feel like night in New Jersey. He’d been staying in New Jersey to keep a low profile. But now rumors were going around that Adam’s followers were hunting down the first wave of ULTRAs—Kyle’s lot—in full force.

And as safe as Damon felt for not being a part of that first wave, he still didn’t want to be a part of what Adam was doing.

Because now, he couldn’t shake the guilt he felt for everything he’d done, and for how everything had unfolded.

Rain lashed down on him as he walked through Wharton State Forest. He could smell that mixture of humid air and dampness, which was supposed to be a nice, relaxing scent, but he was far from relaxed right now. He felt weak. He hadn’t eaten in days.

All because of those changes that’d occurred inside his body.

All because of the powers Adam had given him.

He’d always thought it’d be pretty cool to have abilities. Especially since his best friend was the strongest damned ULTRA in the world. Hard not to feel a little jealous there.

But now he had powers, he saw the responsibility that came with them, as well as the potential for accidental destruction.

For the first time in a long time, he actually felt something like pity and sympathy for Kyle. Because as much destruction as he’d caused, as much recklessness he’d been a part of, Damon saw now that Kyle probably had only been acting in the best interests of the world. The destruction that came with it, unfortunate as it was, was just a side effect of powerful weapons like him.

And Kyle really was still just a kid like him.

He kept on walking further into the forest. He figured he’d just hide away in here as long as he could. Again, he was pretty sure he was safe. He wasn’t a First Wave, as they were now calling the ULTRAs who emerged around the same time as Kyle. He wasn’t ever a member of the Resistance, either. He’d just been Kyle’s friend—Kyle’s best friend.

But he’d torn all that apart.

Shit.
He’d
torn all that apart.

He stopped. Put his hands on his legs, gasping for air as the rain fell down even heavier on him.

He’d betrayed Kyle. Kyle had trusted him all this time and he’d stabbed him in the back. He saw it for what it was, now. Sure, he’d just been looking out for other people. Sure, he told himself it was just the right thing for Kyle because it’d mean he wouldn’t get himself in any more trouble.

But it was still what it was. Betrayal. A stab in the back.

A stab that ended their amazing friendship, surely forever.

He tried to steady his breathing, but he was well in the grips of a panic attack. His heart thumped so heavily he thought it might burst out of his chest like that little creature in the first Alien movie. Every breath he took was forced and labored. He felt dizzy and sick. He just wanted to be away from all this. He just wanted to put it behind him.

But then he thought about Kyle. He thought about him out there, hunted by the world. He might not totally agree with Kyle’s methods, but Kyle was still a damn good guy. He was his best friend. Damon had the abilities to fight with him. Sure, he was pretty clumsy, but Kyle needed all the help he could get.

So he’d go to him. He’d find him, wherever he was. Or he’d find a way of reaching out to him. Damn, he’d do something.

He had to get to Kyle.

He had to apologize.

And he had to fight with him.

When he stood up, breathing back to normal and much more composed, he saw someone opposite him.

There were five people.

Four of them were on their knees.

One of them was standing.

The guy standing was familiar. He’d recognize those green eyes from a mile away. He felt his guts turn, and goose pimples spread across his arms. When he tried to step away, he noticed movement to his left, to his right, behind him, and he knew he was surrounded.

It wasn’t just Adam that terrified Damon.

It was the people crouching in front of him.

“Hello again,” Adam said. He walked in front of the three people crouched there. “Not gonna say hello to your friends? How rude.”

Damon looked at Ellicia’s terrified eyes.

He looked at the tears on Avi’s cheeks.

He looked at the defeat on Cassie’s face.

And he looked at the purple bruises on Kyle’s dad’s skin.

“No?” Adam said. He sighed. “Oh well. Good. We can get to the real reason I’m here.”

Damon tried to walk away, but someone grabbed him. He couldn’t move or use his powers.

Adam stepped over him. “I think you’ve served your purpose. And you served it really well.”

He put his hand on Damon’s head.

“But now it’s time for a new purpose. Let’s get started.”