by Matt Blake
I just had to trust my instincts. Get the Failsafe back to Michael Williamson. Restore order. If I had to fight and take down Catalyst, then so be it. He was tough, but I could handle him. And when I did, I’d go back to my normal, hero-free life, and leave Michael and the rest of the world to deal with the fallout.
No more ULTRA.
No more Glacies.
Just a normal life of college and studies and girlfriends and drinking and—
I was so lost in my thoughts that I only just realized I was being followed.
When I turned, I saw someone flying behind me. I didn’t recognize them. Definitely not Catalyst.
I lifted my hands to fire at them and then I felt myself bump into someone.
As I struggled to hold onto the Failsafe, steadying myself in the sky, I became aware that there wasn’t just one ULTRA chasing me.
There wasn’t just another that I’d bumped into.
I was surrounded by ULTRAs.
“Kyle Peters,” a short, chubby guy with a lisp said. “Or do you prefer Glacies?”
I tried to shoot myself away, but I felt something pulling me back.
Then I realized what it was.
I was trapped in some kind of invisible leash.
A leash that the bald guy was holding onto.
He smiled, his bare pot belly dripping sweat. His teeth were yellow, some of them missing.
“The name’s Morgan, but my friends call me Fat Morgan. Fancy seeing you up here, using your powers. Now come along, son. You’re about to make me very rich, my boy.”
17
I looked at the pot-bellied pig of an ULTRA hovering opposite me and I was more than confident I could fight him off, as well as his band of cronies.
But something in me was holding me back.
Something was restraining me from doing what I really wanted to do.
“There’s no point resisting,” Fat Morgan said, grinning. “We know who you are. We know what you’re capable of. And we know how little you’d like that getting out.”
“You aren’t shit to me.”
Fat Morgan chuckled. “Oh, really? That confident, are we? Guys, he’s really that naive and confident. Ain’t that funny?”
I heard a few chuckles from the surrounding ULTRAs. Some of them I thought I recognized. One of them, a guy not much older than me, had tree roots wrapped all around him, sharp wooden branches sprouting from his hands. Another’s hands were steaming, and I didn’t want to risk being touched by them anytime soon.
I might not have known exactly who they were, but I didn’t need to. Not really.
This was an ambush. This was some kind of setup.
And it was bad news for me.
That was literally the only thing I needed to know.
I tensed my fists and became aware of the Failsafe’s heaviness so close to me. I couldn’t lose it. If I lost it, then it’d be out there for someone else to find. But if I stayed here forever, I was certain that Catalyst would catch up with me eventually.
“I suggest you leave it out,” I said. “Unless you want to get—”
“We know what you’ve got, Glacies.”
I looked around at them then, one by one. They knew what I’d got? Did that mean…
“The Failsafe,” Fat Morgan said. He nodded toward my pocket. “We know you’ve got it and we know what it’s capable of.”
“You don’t know a thing.”
“Yes, we do. And there’s no point dancing around the real reason we’re here. We want it from you.”
“Well unfortunately for you, that isn’t going to happen.”
“Think about what kind of power that Failsafe holds. Just think about how powerful the owner of that Failsafe could be. And if that power isn’t enough, well. They’ll be goddamn rich for sure.”
“See, that’s not exactly the kind of talk that’s encouraging me to just hand the Failsafe over.”
I saw a smile stretch across Fat Morgan’s chubby face. The wind, high up as we were, blasted against us, the air cool and thin.
“Then we’re done talking,” Fat Morgan said.
He clapped his hands together and sent a huge shockwave surging toward me. I put on the brakes, prepared to teleport myself away from here—
The shockwave hit me with force. A real literal kick of energy to the teeth. I tasted blood right away, and felt my neck hurtle back as I floated there in the sky. I tried to recharge my abilities, to bounce back, all the while making sure the Failsafe didn’t slip from my grip.
But the ULTRAs around me were just too fast. They kept on swooping down, charging into me, beating me and bruising me.
And I didn’t even feel like I could fight back properly.
I felt dizzy and sick as I floated there in the sky, hit following hit following hit. I saw the truth right then, straight up. I wasn’t as strong as I used to be. I wasn’t the ULTRA—the Hero—I once was. Whether it’s because I’d spent so long resisting my true identity that I’d lost the ability to fight like I did, or whether I was just weakening over time through lack of focus, I wasn’t sure.
It didn’t really matter. I was getting my ass handed to me.
I saw an opportunity right then, in the haziness of thought. There was a gap. A momentary gap where the ULTRA gang stopped flying at me. I knew I wasn’t strong enough to disappear right now. But at least I could teleport the Failsafe somewhere else. Somewhere no one would ever find it.
And when I did, what happened to me… well, it happened.
As long as the Failsafe didn’t get into the wrong hands. That was the main thing right now.
I went to lift the Failsafe out of my pocket and send it through a wormhole.
Before I could, someone snatched it from my grip.
I looked up and saw the fat ULTRA gurning with awe as he held onto the Failsafe. The rest of his people looked on in amazement, too, not believing what they were actually looking at.
“Thank you,” Fat Morgan said. “Seriously. Thank you for this.”
“Give it back here!”
“Oh, no. We can’t do that. However, I’m starting to think maybe we could keep you close to your precious little metal ball of power.”
He nodded, and before I understood why, I felt something tight and burning snap around my wrists. When I tried to use my abilities, my body surged with electricity. I was trapped.
“The Failsafe is worth a lot. A hell of a lot. But a Failsafe and Glacies? A Glacies with abilities? Hell, I might just be the most powerful dude ever to have lived.”
I tried to break free of the ties again, but the electricity fought back even harder than I could give.
He had the Failsafe.
He had me.
I was his prisoner now.
18
I leaned back against the cell wall and wished I was anywhere but here.
It was dark. Cold. Miserable. I had no idea where I was, not really, or what time of day it was. I didn’t think I’d traveled all that far when Fat Morgan and his band of misfits caught me. But maybe that was just the effect of the anti-energy bands around my arms, making me dizzy and nauseous every single time I tried to use my powers and break away from them.
Now here I was, trapped in a cell barely big enough to stretch out in.
There were bars to my left and right, but I didn’t want to risk sticking my hands or legs through any of them because of the strange noises I’d heard. I squinted into the darkness, being careful not to activate my night vision so as to avoid another nasty shock. It was clear to me now that this was some kind of ULTRA prison. I wasn’t sure exactly what Fat Morgan did with his ULTRAs when he had them here. Either he sold them off for financial gain or kept them as his pets. I wasn’t sure.
I just knew that he had the Failsafe, and I didn’t trust him with it.
I felt my stomach lurch with hunger, but at the same time, a wave of nausea covered me. In front of me, in the darkness, I saw something creeping around on the hard, damp floor, and I
knew it was a rat. I held my breath when I saw it creeping past, more of them following. I’d never been keen on rats. They always gave me the creeps. Unlike most people with rat phobias, it wasn’t the tail that bothered me so much. More that greasy fur of theirs. There was something sickening about it, imagining all the germs and badness embedded in that hair… It gave me the shivers. One time when I was younger, a rat had gotten into my bedroom. Rats were pretty common in New York, so it wasn’t all that surprising.
I just remember waking up and feeling something crawling across my chest in the dark. At first, I thought it was Cassie playing around, teasing me.
Then I looked over at her bed and realized she was still there.
It was then that the rat started nibbling at my neck.
I’d screamed. I don’t think I stopped screaming for hours. I didn’t sleep in that bedroom again, one of the reasons why I ended up getting the room that Cassie had wanted to upgrade to herself all along.
I just remembered Mom holding me and telling me everything was going to be okay. That it couldn’t get me anymore.
And as much as I wanted to believe her, as much as her presence reassured me, I still never felt secure around them. Like they were working their way up to that fateful day where they finally got their ratty revenge once and for all.
I saw them pass by and I swallowed a lump in my throat, letting myself breathe normally. Truth be told, I didn’t know what to do. Part of me wanted to get out of this place and get the Failsafe back. But at the same time, that temptation to just sit back and not be a hero anymore was strong.
I felt guilty for even feeling slightly that way. But it was what it was.
I was about to close my eyes when something caught my attention to my right.
The guy in the cell was right up to the bars.
I lurched to my left. Instinctively I activated my powers, which gave me a nasty searing jolt.
But when my eyes focused, when I realized who was at the bars of that cell, I felt even more alarmed.
“Hello, Kyle. Fancy seeing you here.”
He was gaunt. His face was bruised. He looked like an extra-skinny version of the guy I used to know, the guy I used to fight alongside.
But there was no doubting that smug grin.
It was Ember.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” I asked.
Ember didn’t respond. Not at first. As a slither of moonlight peeked through the grating above the cells, I swore I saw tears building in his eyes. He didn’t look like he’d spoken to anyone in a long time.
“Ember? How—”
“It really is you.”
I closed my mouth and smiled as well as I could, considering the circumstances. “It really is.”
“I never thought I’d see you again. Or anyone again. This place. It—it’s mad. It makes you see things. You want to get out. You want to escape.”
I heard a feverish intensity to Ember’s voice like never before. I wondered how long he’d been here, and how long he’d taken to break.
“How did you end up stuck in here?”
“This group,” Ember said. He shook his head, the smile shifting from his face. “These people. They trade. Trade in expensive things. ULTRAs as weapons. To gangs. To drug barons. Mikey said they brainwash us and ship us to fights in Japan. I don’t wanna fight. Not anymore.”
You and me both.
“What are you up to these days?” Ember asked, like it was the most casual crossing of paths in the world. “Still keeping people safe out there?”
I wanted to tell Ember I did. But I felt guilty lying. “I’m… There’s not a lot of fighting to do anymore.”
“Your choice?”
He’d seen right through my bullshit, then. “Something like that.”
Ember didn’t seem to judge, though. Just leaned back against the wall and tilted his head like he was weighing it up. “It’s hard to keep fighting sometimes. But, hey. A lot of people rely on you. So you’ve got to keep going, no matter what.”
I heard Ember’s words and deep down, I knew he was right. I didn’t like the idea people relied on me. But I knew it was the truth. And it made me feel even more shitty.
“Whatever you’ve done or not done or choose to do, there’s one thing for sure. This place. You have to get out of here. Fast.”
“I’m not sure I—”
“You can. You’re strong enough. Always have been strong enough, even if you are a bit of a dick at times.”
Ember laughed, and I did too. I felt like we were back how we used to be, back in the old days, the good days.
“So you ready to break out of here?”
I swallowed a lump and looked around at the dark, grim, cold, rat-infested hellhole. Ember was right. I had people relying on me. And right now that reliance came in the form of getting the Failsafe to safety.
“You know what?” I said. “I think I am.”
19
Fat Morgan tucked into his fried chicken and by damn, it was the tastiest fried chicken he’d ever had in his life.
It was night, and he always liked to eat at night. Hell, he always liked to eat no matter what time of day it was. But nights were always the best. Especially the stormy ones. A day of trading and dealing out of the way and he’d settle down in his room with a whole host of snacks.
But this was the first bucket of chicken he’d treated himself to in weeks. And boy was he loving it.
He scraped his teeth against the bone of the chicken leg, the juicy, succulent fatty meat dribbling down his chin. He knew he was fat. He’d always been fat, right from when he was a kid. Dad used to tell him he was a fat little shit, but Mom always encouraged him to eat more and more. Dad said she had something wrong with her. That she had a kind of weird sick fantasy. Fat Morgan didn’t know what that meant at the time, and sure, Mom did act weird a few times. Even got herself thrown in a mental hospital once or twice.
But she was just Mom. And Fat Morgan always loved her.
Right up until the day she just disappeared.
Which just made him want to eat more and more.
He chewed harder against the fried chicken and threw the bone, completely stripped of flesh, into the bucket. He looked around at this dark room he called home. It was basic. Any old prison was bound to be. Sure, it was rusty. And sure, there was a bit of a rat problem. But he kind of liked rats. They always used to be there for him when he was younger. He used to catch ’em. Stroke ’em. Raise ’em as pets. When he was taken away and put into foster care, times were tough. He didn’t know who loved him or who he was supposed to love.
But he always had his pets. And they made him feel better, especially when it got really hard.
He put his bucket to one side and rubbed his fingers against his huge belly. He was sat on his favorite chair, and he didn’t plan on moving all night. Especially not when there was a bottle of gin right in reach.
He grabbed the gin and let it slither down his throat, immediately feeling its buzz. He grinned and chuckled a little as he sipped. He wasn’t going to be stuck here for long, anyway. Soon, he was gonna have a nice big mansion of his own. A fancy sports car or two. Loads of women.
He looked over at the Failsafe and smiled.
He was gonna live the dream. And Glacies and the Failsafe were gonna go a long way toward securing that.
He knew what he was planning was a risky move. After all, selling on Glacies and the Failsafe was no small feat. Glacies was powerful as hell, so brainwashing him was going to take time. And the Failsafe, well. He had to make sure he found the right buyer for that. The most trustworthy buyer. At the end of the day, the check mattered, but not if he sold it to some nut job who wasn’t afraid to use it on a whim.
He had to meet his clients and he had to vet them. He had to make sure—absolutely sure—they were the right people to sell to.
And when he did, then he’d get his mansion. Then he’d find his way outta this shithole. Then he’d be able to eat fried c
hicken to his heart’s content.
Because he didn’t enjoy doing what he did right now. No-sir. It was just a job. A way of putting food on the table. Or in the bucket.
Soon, that was gonna change.
He was getting his big break.
He was getting the rewards his hard work deserved—
A bang.
A massive bang against his door.
He frowned. Instantly, agitation crept through his body.
He told his people that they weren’t to disturb him when the door was locked. Even put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door, which they always acknowledged. Always.
Except now.
’Cause the door banged some more.
Fat Morgan sighed and dragged his mass of weight from the chair. “Yeah, yeah. Coming. This better be good.” He hadn’t planned on moving all night. He was feeling pins and needles in his feet and toes, like they’d turned in for the evening too.
The door banged some more.
“I’m coming, alright? Give it a goddamned rest or I’ll…”
When Fat Morgan opened the door, he got the feeling right away that this wasn’t just any ordinary night.
In front of him was Bouncer. He could jump hella high.
He was covered in blood.
His hands were behind his back. He was shaking.
“What the hell’s—”
“There’s someone coming. An—an ULTRA.”
“Just one damned ULTRA put you in this state?”
“It’s—it’s not my blood. But it will do. If we don’t hand over the—the Failsafe.”
Fat Morgan gritted his teeth. “That ain’t gonna happen. Where is this idiot?”
“Morgan, seriously. He wants the Failsafe.”
“Well he’d better pay really damned good.”
“He isn’t gonna pay.”
Fat Morgan frowned. “What?”
“He—he said he isn’t gonna pay.” Bouncer started fumbling with something behind his back. “And—and he told me he wanted me to show you this. As—as proof.”
