The Last Hero (Book 1): Ultra (17 page)

I
stood
at the top of the Skytree in Tokyo and took a deep breath in.

The sky was dark. All around me, I saw lights. Cars driving through streets. The flashing neons of nightclubs. The smells of street food drifted right up to my position as the wind blew into me. I used to fear heights. Used to feel uncomfortable at heights.

Not anymore.

Not while I had a job. Not while I had a duty.

I focused on staying camouflaged in the darkness. Even if I weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. I was dressed in jet black. Even jetter black than I’d been in my old outfit.

But this wasn’t just a replacement outfit. This wasn’t a copy of Orion’s outfit. I was done with being Orion II, with molding myself in someone else’s image. I’d seen Nycto, and I knew the dangers that could bring.

No, now was the time to become a Hero. A new Hero.

I looked as far as I could see. Such a perfect city going about its everyday business. One of the cities I’d always wanted to see but was too afraid to step out of my comfort zone and actually explore.

But now, here I was. Here I was staring down at this city, as it braced for destruction. Because it would be destroyed, one day. If Nycto had his way, everywhere would be destroyed.

It was my duty to make sure that didn’t happen.

I heard Damon’s words in my head.
“There’s no one out there. No one who can save us. No one strong enough. So we should be making the most of the time we’ve got.”

And I heard the Figure in Black’s words, too.
“If you can believe yourself, truly believe in yourself, you can achieve the one thing you’ve been gifted these abilities for.”

They resonated. They resonated now more than ever.

I wasn’t weak. I had been weak, sure. When I was Kyle. When I was Kyle pretending to be Orion.

But now I was someone new.

Now, I was someone else entirely.

I looked down at my outfit. Black, again. Tighter fit. And on the chest of the long sleeved black latex shirt, a new emblem. A new symbol. One people would remember me by.

An eagle soaring, the light of the sun behind it.

I wasn’t Kyle anymore. I wasn’t Orion II.

I was Glacies.

And I was taking Nycto down.

T
ommy Parker looked
out of his bedroom window at the sunny street and wished he could play outside like the other kids.

It was hot. So hot. Usually, when it was hot, Mom let him go down to Central Park for a swim on weekends. She used to do it every single weekend it was sunny. He didn’t have loadsa friends at school, so most of his best friends he’d made were down at that swimming pool.

He wished he could go make some more friends. But he wasn’t allowed out today.

He craned his neck against the glass and looked down the road. The streets were usually busy, full of people. But they’d been quieter lately. Something to do with the ULTRAs. Tommy was only ten so he couldn’t properly remember the ULTRAs, other than there was a big bang and that ended them. They seemed kinda cool, though. Even though they were nasty, there musta been some good ones. They were called Heroes at first, and Tommy was sure heroes were good things, so there must’ve been good ULTRAs, right?

He caught a whiff of the hotdog stands as he moved his nose to the window, and he wanted to be out there so bad. It was his favorite kinda day. Sun shining, go out with Mom and get a hotdog then go paddling in the pool. Maybe even get a popsicle on his way home. He’d waited for days like these for so long. Now it didn’t seem fair that he wasn’t allowed, not after all this time.

Bill and Katie went to the pool on their own. They lived pretty close, so their parents said they trusted them, but Mom said their parents were “irresponsible” or something, even though Tommy didn’t really know what that meant. All he knew was that he knew the way to the pool. He could get there, take a quick dip with some friends, then be back here without Mom ever even knowing. They liked to stay in bed late on a Saturday. He could be back here before they even woke up.

Tommy got so excited at the thought that he grabbed his swimming kit, already packed in his Nike bag. He pulled it over his shoulder, the butterflies all flapping around his body. He was doing this. He was gonna prove to Mom that he was a big boy and could do things like this for himself. They’d not like it while he was gone, but if he came back and told them he’d gone… they’d be so proud. They had to be so proud. And they’d let him go out on his own more often.

Tommy walked out of his bedroom. Slipped his trainers on by the door.

He stepped out into the hallway. Mom and Dad’s door was never fully shut. He could see Mom in there. She was still. Totally still under the white sheets. Dad was at work at the One World Trade Center. He always worked early on weekends.

Tommy knew he had to go now. He couldn’t waste any time.

He crept across the landing towards the top of the stairs. Every step felt heavier like it was closer to Mom finding out he was sneaking out. Even if she did, Tommy could just say he was going to the bathroom or something.

No. He couldn’t wake Mom up. Special Agent Tommy. This was his mission.

He reached the top of the stairs and heard a floorboard creak in his parents’ room.

Tommy froze. Stood there, bag over his shoulder. If Mom came out, they’d find him like this, and there’d be no way to explain himself. She’d know exactly what he was doing.

Tommy held his breath. Waited for a few seconds. Waited for Mom to walk out the room, head to the bathroom.

But she didn’t.

The floorboard didn’t creak again.

Tommy let go of his breath, those butterflies flying faster now. He climbed down the first step. Then the second. And before he knew it, he was at the bottom of the stairs, right by the front door.

He knew he needed a key. Mom and Dad said he wasn’t old enough for a key yet. He’d have to borrow one of theirs. He’d be back before they knew he was gone.

He searched Mom’s overcoat pocket and pulled out a key. He looked up the stairs again. Thought about climbing back up there, asking Mom if she’d take him. But he knew what she’d say. Same thing she’d said the last few days. It was too dangerous. Too dangerous with the ULTRAs around.

Yeah, well New York was fine still. Nobody had been hurt.

And a half hour wasn’t gonna change much.

Tommy unlocked the door as quietly as he could. And then he turned the handle.

It snapped back up.

He stood rigid. His little heart raced. Stupid. Butterfingers. He had to be quiet. Had to make sure he didn’t wake Mom.

Tommy turned the handle again, as hard as he could.

This time, it opened. He was outside.

Tommy stepped down the little path in front of his house, out onto the road. New York felt so much bigger when he was on his own. Like there were sounds in every direction, like the buildings were looking down on him, watching him.

But Tommy couldn’t stand and stare. He had to get moving.

He walked down the sidewalk. Walked past a few people, all bigger than him. He thought he might stand out ’cause he was a kid, but people didn’t even look at him. Maybe it’s ’cause he was a secret agent. Maybe he was camouflaged! Special Agent Tommy at your service. It reminded him of the Mission Impossible films he watched with Dad. Tommy wanted to be like Ethan Hunt. This was his first mission.

He’d got to the end of the street when he saw some dark clouds ahead. Weird. The rest of the sky was completely blue and nice, just how he liked it. He started to worry that if it rained, they’d close up the pool, or everyone would leave and it’d be all for nothing ’cause he couldn’t make any new friends.

But then he saw the crackle of lightning in the middle of the cloud.

He saw the figure floating there.

The figure dressed all in silver.

In its hands, flames.

Tommy dropped his swimming kit to the road and stared up as screams started to fill New York.

Nycto was here.

And he was getting ready to attack.

I
t wasn’t long
before I heard the news that changed my life.

I was in Great Piece Meadows, New Jersey. It was
called
a “meadow,” but really it was more of a swampland. But it was quiet, so that’s what I needed.

I was trying to figure out a pattern of Nycto’s attacks, just like I had last time. But it was so warm, so sunny, that I could barely concentrate. Besides, it didn’t seem like there were any patterns.

I didn’t have to hear the news to know Nycto was in New York City. I saw it for myself. The dark cloud hovering in the distance, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure at first. Not right away.

Not until I saw the balls of orange burning in the sky, then crashing down into the city.

I felt a surge of adrenaline fill my body. Fear, sure. Felt like I wanted to heave, absolutely. But really, the feeling I felt more than any other was relief. Relief that I was finally being able to stand up to Nycto. That I knew exactly where he was.

Because now was the moment I stopped his madness. Now was the moment I stepped up to the plate.

Or at least, attempted to.

I bolted off the ground, outside the empty warehouse I’d been shacked up in. I became so conscious of myself as I flew through the sky. I knew people would see me. I knew they’d be just as fearful of me as they were of Nycto. And that wasn’t their fault. It was just what they’d been trained. Not to mention the destruction they’d seen.

But that was something I just had to deal with right now.

I shot over onto Manhattan Island. The place was already well under attack. I saw glass flying out of the side of the Rockefeller. I saw people fleeing through Central Park as huge balls of orange flames blasted down on them. I saw entire streets crumble, cars falling through them.

These people. They needed help. They needed someone.

At the top of the island, I saw gunfire spraying upwards. The military. Quite a large military presence. They were firing everything they had at Nycto; shooting missiles into the sky. But Nycto wasn’t even being scratched. The bullets just bounced off him. He threw the missiles back down to the ground.

I looked at Nycto, hovering there, feeling so invincible, and I felt anger. I felt pure rage. I wanted to stop him. To put an end to him right now while he wasn’t expecting it.

But then I heard a scream down below.

When I looked at the road beneath me, I saw a boy. Young, probably only eight or so. He was holding someone. A woman, presumably his mother. He was trying to get her to move, crying as he attempted to wake her up.

Up above, I saw Nycto’s hands filling with flames again.

If I didn’t rescue that kid, he’d die.

I resisted the urge to fly at Nycto and I shot right down to the ground. In the corner of my eye, I saw Nycto’s fireballs hurtling towards land. I kept my focus on that kid, on his unconscious—or worse—mother. I could do this. I could help him. Nobody else had to die today.

I saw the fireballs outpacing me and knew it was going to be tight. I didn’t have long. And even if I did save this kid and his mom, there’d be so many others like him that I hadn’t been able to save.

No.

I
could
save them. I could save everyone.

And that started with this boy.

I held my hands out in front of me as the fireballs shot past me. They were just meters from the little boy now. I saw them reflecting in his eyes. Saw the look of horror as they flew at him. Into him…

And then they stopped.

They froze.

I threw the fireballs—now snowballs—to the side. I landed by the boy and crouched beside him. He looked at me with fear, and I figured that must be something to do with my outfit—new, unfamiliar, but undeniably ULTRA.

“Come on, kid,” I said, holding out my hand. “It’s not safe for you here.”

The kid blinked. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “My mommy,” he said, holding onto her. “Please. I just wanted to go to the park and she… she came looking for me. But please. Please don’t make my mommy go away.”

I felt a lump in my throat and reached for the woman’s neck. Around me, I heard more explosions, and that reassured me ’cause it meant Nycto had moved on. He thought he’d finished this kid off. That was a good thing. I wanted the element of surprise on my side when I finally took him out.

I felt a soft pulse in the woman’s neck. “Your mom’s gonna be okay,” I said. “Take my hand. I’ll take you someplace safe for now.”

The boy sniveled. He hesitated a little, then took my hand.

I grabbed on to his mother and then I shot myself outside of New York City, into that warehouse I’d been in, in New Jersey, before the start of the attack.

“You wait here,” I told the kid. “Don’t go anywhere. Not until—”

“My dad,” the boy said. “He… He was out there. In the World Trade Center. Please help him. Please.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about the boy’s demands. Part of me wanted to get on with fighting Nycto, finish him off. But another part of me felt a twinge of guilt, a flicker of familiarity. This boy was just like I was when I was younger. Looking for his dad, just like I’d been looking for my sister. His mom was in a bad way. I had no idea whether she was going to make it.

The best thing I could do for him was make sure his dad was okay. How hard would that be?

“Your dad,” I said. “What’s his name? What’s he look like?”

“Peter,” the boy said. “He’s… He’s got black hair. Tall. Thin.”

“Narrows it down.”

“What?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Do you know what floor he works on?”

The boy squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head. “I… I went there once. I think it was fourteen. But I dunno. Just… please. Please help.”

I sighed. “I’ll do what I can for you, kid. What’s your name, by the way? So I can tell your dad you’re safe.”

The kid sniveled. “Tommy,” he said. “Tommy Parker.”

“Tommy.” I smiled at him. “I’ll get your dad back to you. Promise. Now you just wait here.”

I held my breath then I shot myself back into the Financial District, right outside the One World Trade Center. I could feel my teleportation powers getting stronger the more urgent this situation got. I could feel myself getting tougher like my powers were a muscle that I was training.

I hovered up to the fourteenth floor, where Tommy said his dad worked. I looked through the glass. Squinted for a sign of life. But there was no one there. I couldn’t see a soul.

I started to hover around the side of the building to see if he was anywhere else on this floor when I became aware of a presence behind me.

I turned around.

Nycto was hovering opposite me, just meters away.

He was holding on to a man. A tall man with dark hair. Thin.

“Looking for someone?” Nycto asked.

He let go of Peter and dropped him to the ground below.