Ultraball #2
Page 19
Nitro’s words made Strike pause, filled with appreciation for how lucky he was. The Fireball Five had been his only real family for so long, but he had quickly grown to trust and depend upon Nitro. Although today would be the very last time he’d mount up inside an Ultrabot suit, maybe his future wouldn’t be nearly as grim as it had seemed.
“Wait a minute,” he said. “As the general manager and coach of the Miners, I’ve made a decision.” He took a deep breath.
He started clicking out of his Ultrabot suit.
“What, you have to pee?” Pickaxe said with a chuckle. He halted, looking back toward the waste recyclers. “Frak. Now I have to pee.”
“I don’t have to pee,” Strike said. “I have to make way for the Miners’ quarterback.” He motioned to Nitro. “What are you waiting for? We don’t have all day.”
Nitro shook her head. “Play one last game, Strike. I want you to.”
“I know, and I appreciate that,” Strike said. “But as the coach and general manager of the Miners, it’s my job to field the team that gives us the best chance of winning.” He stepped down from the leg mounts and moved aside. “For that, I need you at quarterback. For today, for tomorrow, and for as long as you can still suit up.”
“Are you sure?” Nitro said. “I mean, I would hate to give up even one game, but if you really don’t want to play . . .”
“Will you just suit up already?” Strike said. A huge part of his brain was screaming at him to push Nitro aside and click back in. But he gritted his teeth, holding that urge at bay, as Nitro stepped into the leg mounts and sealed herself into place.
After her helmet locked down, Nitro’s voice came onto Strike’s headset. “Ready, Coach.”
“Okay, QB,” Strike said. “Give the Molemen no mercy. I’ll be talking to you out there from the stands.” He began the traditional Miners’ cheer, but then backed off. He nodded to Nitro. “It’s all you, QB.”
“You sure?” Nitro asked.
“Lead out your team,” Strike said. He paused. “Zuna took away your chance to win a big game for your brother. So go do it now. Win this one. For Torch.”
The other Miners stared in silence at Nitro as she blinked hard, her eyes welling. “Thanks, Strike,” she finally said. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“Actually, I think I do,” Strike said. He glanced toward TNT and nodded.
TNT took a deep breath. “Thanks, Strike. For everything. I . . .” He choked up.
“Okay, okay,” Pickaxe said. “Enough with the kissy-kissy stuff. Time to go smash up the Molemen. We still owe them for beating us back in—”
He jumped and shrieked when Nugget whacked his butt with a reverberating metallic clang. “Let everyone have their moment, fart-face,” Nugget said.
“I’ll fart in your face,” Pickaxe muttered, holding his hands protectively over his rear end.
“I have no doubt that you will,” Nitro said. She threw one arm around each brother, grinning as she pulled them in tight. “We’re going to win a lot of titles for you, Strike. The Miners’ dynasty starts today.” She huddled everyone up, putting out a gloved fist.
Everyone slapped their hands on top of hers.
“Miners together!” she bellowed.
“Miners forever!” everyone yelled back. Behind Nitro’s lead, they charged through the tunnel toward the playing field, their war cries amplifying into a deafening wall of sound.
Strike started to run out behind them, but he paused, slowing to a halt. Standing back, he shoved his hands into his jumpsuit pockets, watching in silence as his players burst out into the arena in formation. They thundered toward their opponents, roaring at the tops of their lungs, primed and ready for the smashmouth battle to come.
Drawing in a deep breath, Strike held it for a long moment before exhaling.
With a bittersweet smile on his face, he made his way down the empty tunnel and headed out toward his coach’s box.
Acknowledgments
I can’t say enough about our team. Ben Rosenthal is The Editor—that’s capital T, capital E—authors can only dream about. The entire squad at HarperCollins is amazing, from contracts to copyediting to cover design to commercial sales. And Alec Shane continues to be The Man, my agent extraordinaire.
I’m so grateful for all the support and help I’ve gotten from so many friends and family members. At the very top of the list is one standout who’s always by my side, no matter what. There aren’t enough capital letters to describe how important and incredible she is, so I’ll simply say that, year after year, now and for always, JILL DENNY is my lifelong MVP.
About the Author
Courtesy Jeff Chen
JEFF CHEN is a writer from Seattle, Washington. He also makes crossword puzzles for the New York Times and other major publications. In previous careers, he was a mechanical engineer listed on eight US patents and then cofounded a pharmaceutical company, Acucela Inc. He’s an avid rock climber and a terrible bridge player and likes ideas, people, and things with nerd cred. He’s about two-thirds of the way toward his lifetime goal of donating twenty gallons of blood (not all at once). You can visit Jeff at www.jeffchenwrites.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Books by Jeff Chen
Ultraball: Lunar Blitz
Ultraball: Deathstrike
Copyright
Katherine Tegen Books is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
ULTRABALL #2: DEATHSTRIKE. Text copyright © 2020 by Jeff Chen. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art © 2020 by Roman Semenenko
Title art and cover design by Joel Tippie
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019950096
Digital Edition JANUARY 2020 ISBN: 978-0-06-280271-2
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-280269-9
1920212223PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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