Read Online The Last Hero (Book 1): Ultra by Matt Blake - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Matt Blake
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Not as strong as I needed to be.
“He’ll be okay,” a muffled voice said. “He always is.”
I knew the voice. I recognized it from somewhere. I…
Then, I saw the light above, and I snapped out of my dreams.
I was lying down. Lying down somewhere. I wasn’t sure where I was, only that it was so bright above me. I could hear beeping from somewhere to my left. I was vaguely aware of a figure standing by my side, saying things to me, but it was all so muffled and distorted that I couldn’t make sense of it, not really.
I thought I must be back at home. Back in my bed. But then this couldn’t be my home, this couldn’t be my bed because there was never a light that bright above it.
“Kyle? You okay, son? You okay?”
I heard the voice and recognized it. Mom. I was pleased to hear her voice for some reason. Relieved. I wasn’t sure why, or what, but it felt like I’d been through something. Like something had happened to me. Something big. Something…
I tasted vomit and blood in my mouth.
My body tensed.
The soccer stadium. I’d been at the soccer stadium with Damon. We’d seen Ellicia there and… shit, me and Ellicia had been talking to each other. We’d been getting on fine.
And then…
I remembered the sounds of the gunshots and it made me think back to the explosion again. The Great Blast.
I’d run. I’d run away from the gunmen. Damon and Ellicia got out. Or at least I hoped they got out. And as I’d been running, another gunman appeared at the exit gate, and I’d gone back inside, gone to the restroom.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Mom said. I could hear the shakiness in her voice. She leaned over. Stroked my head. Kissed it. “Thank the Lord you’re awake.”
I widened my eyes, as sore and tired as they were.
I saw then that I was in a hospital bed. Blue curtains were wrapped around my bed. I could hear coughs and beeping from others in the ward, but I was cocooned in my own little zone here. The back of my head hurt like mad.
“How you feeling?” Mom asked. Her eyes were dark underneath. Her face was pale. She didn’t look like she’d been sleeping well lately.
I pushed myself up, but doing so made me ache some more.
“Oh, you keep still,” Mom said. She eased me back down onto the bed, adjusted my pillow. “Don’t move if you don’t have to. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“What—what happened?”
Mom backed away. She held on to my hand. Looked into my eyes with wide-eyed severity. “You really don’t remember?”
I pushed myself to try and remember what she might be talking about. The attacks, yes. But what else? There was something else.
I’d run into the restroom and…
My skin went cold.
I remembered.
I was locked in that cubicle. Waiting for the gunman to reach my location. Only he hadn’t arrived. Well, he had. But for some reason, somehow, I’d shifted to another cubicle.
I’d closed my eyes, embraced the fear inside me, and I’d shifted to another cubicle.
My heart pounded. My hands shook a little.
“You okay, Kyle? Your dad’s on his way soon, Son. He’s been here by your side all this time. Just gone to grab himself a coffee.”
I swallowed the phlegmy lump in my throat. The memories kept on rolling back through my consciousness. I’d left that restroom. I’d reached the stairs. But then a gunman had pointed his gun at me, shot at me.
Only when I opened my eyes, he was lying dead on the floor.
I was still standing.
“I told him to cut down on coffee,” Mom said. “Read online that it’s bad for the nerves.”
Then there was the other incident. The main incident. The one that hit me even harder than anything else so far.
I’d attacked one of the gunmen. I’d run along the side of a vertical wall, jumped acrobatically down onto him, and taken him out. And then I’d lifted him up with a strength that went far beyond my own abilities. Tied his hands behind his back in an impossible knot.
I’d done things no human should be
“He’ll be okay,” a muffled voice said. “He always is.”
I knew the voice. I recognized it from somewhere. I…
Then, I saw the light above, and I snapped out of my dreams.
I was lying down. Lying down somewhere. I wasn’t sure where I was, only that it was so bright above me. I could hear beeping from somewhere to my left. I was vaguely aware of a figure standing by my side, saying things to me, but it was all so muffled and distorted that I couldn’t make sense of it, not really.
I thought I must be back at home. Back in my bed. But then this couldn’t be my home, this couldn’t be my bed because there was never a light that bright above it.
“Kyle? You okay, son? You okay?”
I heard the voice and recognized it. Mom. I was pleased to hear her voice for some reason. Relieved. I wasn’t sure why, or what, but it felt like I’d been through something. Like something had happened to me. Something big. Something…
I tasted vomit and blood in my mouth.
My body tensed.
The soccer stadium. I’d been at the soccer stadium with Damon. We’d seen Ellicia there and… shit, me and Ellicia had been talking to each other. We’d been getting on fine.
And then…
I remembered the sounds of the gunshots and it made me think back to the explosion again. The Great Blast.
I’d run. I’d run away from the gunmen. Damon and Ellicia got out. Or at least I hoped they got out. And as I’d been running, another gunman appeared at the exit gate, and I’d gone back inside, gone to the restroom.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Mom said. I could hear the shakiness in her voice. She leaned over. Stroked my head. Kissed it. “Thank the Lord you’re awake.”
I widened my eyes, as sore and tired as they were.
I saw then that I was in a hospital bed. Blue curtains were wrapped around my bed. I could hear coughs and beeping from others in the ward, but I was cocooned in my own little zone here. The back of my head hurt like mad.
“How you feeling?” Mom asked. Her eyes were dark underneath. Her face was pale. She didn’t look like she’d been sleeping well lately.
I pushed myself up, but doing so made me ache some more.
“Oh, you keep still,” Mom said. She eased me back down onto the bed, adjusted my pillow. “Don’t move if you don’t have to. Don’t want you hurting yourself.”
“What—what happened?”
Mom backed away. She held on to my hand. Looked into my eyes with wide-eyed severity. “You really don’t remember?”
I pushed myself to try and remember what she might be talking about. The attacks, yes. But what else? There was something else.
I’d run into the restroom and…
My skin went cold.
I remembered.
I was locked in that cubicle. Waiting for the gunman to reach my location. Only he hadn’t arrived. Well, he had. But for some reason, somehow, I’d shifted to another cubicle.
I’d closed my eyes, embraced the fear inside me, and I’d shifted to another cubicle.
My heart pounded. My hands shook a little.
“You okay, Kyle? Your dad’s on his way soon, Son. He’s been here by your side all this time. Just gone to grab himself a coffee.”
I swallowed the phlegmy lump in my throat. The memories kept on rolling back through my consciousness. I’d left that restroom. I’d reached the stairs. But then a gunman had pointed his gun at me, shot at me.
Only when I opened my eyes, he was lying dead on the floor.
I was still standing.
“I told him to cut down on coffee,” Mom said. “Read online that it’s bad for the nerves.”
Then there was the other incident. The main incident. The one that hit me even harder than anything else so far.
I’d attacked one of the gunmen. I’d run along the side of a vertical wall, jumped acrobatically down onto him, and taken him out. And then I’d lifted him up with a strength that went far beyond my own abilities. Tied his hands behind his back in an impossible knot.
I’d done things no human should be
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