Lockey vs. the Apocalypse | Book 1 | No More Heroes [Adrian's Undead Diary Novel]

by Meadows, Carl

  I lifted the Glock, the barrel just an inch from the back of Freya’s head, her dark hair glistening like polished ebony in the sunlight. Hooking my finger over the trigger, I felt that coldness on its tip. One squeeze and it was done.

  I don’t know how long my arm hovered there. So many times, I told myself to squeeze the trigger, to just get it done, and every time my muscles froze. I started to cry, silently weeping, the scene in front of me a hazy blur. Breathing was a labour, the weight of responsibility and grief crushing the air from my lungs, and I felt my arm beginning to quiver.

  I broke. I couldn’t do it. As my arm fell away, I choked out a single word through the pain, every atom of me pleading, begging to take this awful responsibility from me.

  “Nate!”

  He was there in a second, his hand taking the gun from mine, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it.

  “I’ve got this, kid,” he whispered.

  I swear there was a shake in his voice, but I can’t be sure. My memory of finer details is blurred. My head was somewhere else, lost and out of control, but I remember his stoic presence, my safe anchor in the storm of this horror raging about me.

  “It’s okay, Erin,” I heard Freya say, no accusation, just more damn compassion.

  Damn it, why is everyone so much stronger than me?

  Freya asked one thing of me and I couldn’t do it. I was too fucking weak, and I passed that terrible burden to Nate again, just like he took the burden behind door number nine. Everyone else keeps carrying my useless weight.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed to choke out, so weak I couldn’t even look. I turned away, my back to Freya’s back, Nate between the two of us. I put my hands on my knees, panting for breath through the torrent of tears.

  “You ready, sweetheart?” I heard Nate say to Freya.

  “I am,” she answered, not a single quiver in her voice while I bawled like a child. Such dignity, such grace. “I love you both,” she said.

  “And we you,” answered Nate.

  The serenity was shattered by the loudest gunshot of my life.

  It broke the last of my will and my body was too heavy for my legs. They collapsed beneath me, all my strength gone. On my knees, I folded downwards, screaming a feral cry of rage, grief, and sorrow into the earth.

  Then Nate was there again, picking me from the floor, wrapping me in his arms, cooing assurances that it would be okay, that he was there, that he had me, that I was safe.

  I crushed to him and wept.

  Freya was gone.

  Shit, I need a break. I can’t write anymore. I’m bawling again and I thought these past two days had ran me dry. I was wrong.

  September 21st, 2010

  GRIEF

  It took me a whole day before I could write again. I’ve never lost someone close to me before and it’s taking me some time to get a handle on this.

  Who am I kidding? I don’t have a handle on this at all. I feel like someone has scooped out all my feelings and dumped them in the trash. I’m numb. I still don’t feel like this is real, and struggle to accept that I’ll never see or speak to her again.

  Nate did it all. He took the burden from me, and now all I feel is guilty again. Freya wanted just one thing from me, and I couldn’t do it for her. The only thing she ever asked of me and I failed her, begging Nate to carry one more miserable burden, when he already carries so much. Being the man he is though, he took it from me without question or hesitation, and did it first time without wavering. I wish I had that kind of strength. I wish I could have saved Nate one less miserable responsibility, but I was too weak. I’m sorry, Nate.

  I’m sorry, Freya.

  Even when we buried Laura and Freya, it still wasn’t real. Norah said some beautiful words, but I can’t remember them. My eyes were fixed to the patted earth, and all I can see is Particles, sitting by the grave, staring at it while making little whines of despair.

  Little dude know she’s gone, and he feels the pain as well. Dogs know this shit, feel it deeply. The two of them had a bond, and now it’s been cut. The two of us have been spending our grief these past few days together. Particles is keeping me clinging to the threads of my sanity.

  I can’t bring myself to hate Laura for what she did. She was just a product of this shitty world and a victim of evil people. How can I possibly know what she went through? How can any of us know what the demons in her head whispered to her in the quiet of night, as she lay in bed alone, wondering if the door was going to be kicked open and be dragged out by her hair?

  Freya’s own caring nature got her killed. Her first reaction was to help, overriding her common sense, but this world takes adjusting to. We have to rewire everything we know, and her wires were still fixed firmly in place. She tried to help when Laura was already beyond it, her undead thrashing mistaken for choking in the noose. One little bite, that’s all it takes, for a story to end, and a world to crumble. These are the fine lines of our reality now.

  Grief isn’t something I understand, or I’m used to. I don’t know how to describe or manage it. Nate says there aren’t any hard and fast rules for managing grief. It’s a different process for everyone, and it’s different each time a person experiences it.

  “Grief,” said Nate, “is the last and final act of love you can give to those you’ve lost. It’s just the love you have, that you want to give, but has nowhere to go.”

  Fucking layers, man. Nate never ceases to bloody amaze me. He’s the hardest, fiercest, most dangerous mother fucker I’ve ever known in my life.

  And he has the biggest damn heart to go with it.

  If you’re ever going to choose someone to be like, dear reader, be like Nate. Think, “What would Nate do?” Because somehow, the old dog just always gets it right.

  I wrote that again. Dear reader. I’ve always wondered what name I should give you, who I should write to. I guess now I know.

  I’m going to write to you, Freya. I’ll tell you everything you missed, who Nate growls at, who gets Particles outraged, who makes me lose my shit. If I write to you, maybe it will keep me connected to you in some way. Maybe it’s my way of keeping you here, with us.

  Yeah, no more “dear reader”.

  These chronicles are yours now, Freya, not mine. They’re for you.

  I hope you like them.

  September 23rd, 2010

  DEAR READER

  Hey Freya.

  I miss you.

  Erin.

  About the Author

  Carl Meadows had his first novel published at the age of 30. Seriously, just one copy. It was a 30th birthday present from a friend and sits in a gift box on his shelf. It was a valiant attempt but needed some serious work, as apparently it contained a social worker with kung fu. For the record, that was not his intention.

  Seeing his name on the cover, however, reminded him of what he wanted to do since the age of seven. Working hard at the craft and a million written words later, and with a commendation in the 2019 Manchester Fiction Prize to fire a serious enthusiasm, he got down to business and wrote five novels in two years to tighten his prose. A lover of sci-fi, fantasy, and horror, he likes it when the good guys win through their struggles, and has a day job using his abnormal memory and hyper-organisation as a supply chain guru to make sure lasers get all the bits they need in time for assembly. Pew pew.

  Carl is a father of three and lives in the northern English county of Cheshire. Sarcasm is his native language.

  His first published novel, 'No More Heroes,' is the opening volume of 'Lockey vs the Apocalypse,' expanding on the world of Chris Philbrook's highly acclaimed and bestselling zombie apocalypse series, 'Adrian's Undead Diary,' with a strong zombie slaying female lead that is one part horror, one part action, one part moving, and many parts laugh out loud.

  Follow Carl on Facebook here: https://www.facebook.com/carlmeadowsauthor

  Follow Carl on Instagram here: https://www.instagram.com/carlmeadowsauthor/

  About Chris P
hilbrook

  Chris Philbrook is the Amazon and Audible best-selling author of the Adrian’s Undead Diary series, The Reemergence series, COLONY LOST, and the fantasy world of Elmoryn. Chris has several years of experience working in game development and editing as well as writing fiction for several major game design companies.

  Chris has authored ten novels in the horror/post-apocalyptic series Adrian’s Undead Diary, plus five urban fantasy novels in The Reemergence series and three dark fantasy novels in The Kinless Trilogy. His first science fiction novel; COLONY LOST has received stellar reviews. He writes young adult sci-fi under the pen name W.J. Orion.

  Chris calls the wonderful state of New Hampshire his home. He is an avid reader, writer, role player, miniatures game player, video game player, husband, and father to two little girls.

  Contact:Chris@thechrisphilbrook.com

  Web:www.thechrisphilbrook.com

  Facebook:facebook.com/PhilbrookAuthor

  Twitter:@PhilbrookAuthor

  Instagram:@PhilbrookAuthor

  Also by Carl Meadows

  Lockey vs the Apocalypse

  No More Heroes

  We Will Rise (coming soon)

  Lockey part 3 (untitled, tbd)

  Dedication

  When the night is at its darkest, look for the light of the stars.

  “No More Heroes” is dedicated to the two north stars who helped steer me through the darkness when I felt lost. They will never know just how dark that night was, or just how bright they shined.

  For Eve and Archie, with all my love.

  Dad. x

  Acknowledgements

  I’d never live it down if I didn’t mention the other two people in my unholy Trinity who have waved the flag for Lockey and Nate from their inception, acting as my primary test readers throughout the creation of this story to make sure I stay on point.

  Michael “Mordy” Furmedge has been my best mate for more than half my 44 years on this planet, and also my most brutally honest test reader. Honestly, he’s a nightmare. He’ll also never shut up about it if I don’t mention the fact that a random conversation about dogs at work resulted in the spark of creation for Particles, Lockey’s beloved pug.

  Okay Mordy, you’ve got the credit you wanted. You can now officially say, “You’d be nowhere without that damn pug, Meadows!”

  You’re welcome.

  And Joanne Wood, who has an unhealthy desire to take on the Annie Wilkes role and be my “Number One Fan!” She ensures I regularly check all my doors and windows are secure, the alarm is on, and a melee weapon is within easy reach, while I act as her constant calendar reminder to check if she’s taken her medication today.

  You got that published author friend, Jo, okay? Tick it off the list. Just… just don’t make it weird? Okay? OKAY?

  Last, and most certainly not least, is Chris Philbrook himself, who has taken a huge leap of faith letting a complete unknown play in his sandbox with my crayons, tongue sticking out the side of my mouth as I make my “thinking face” while I scribble.

  I’ve been reading AUD since way back, when it was first an online blog on the interwebs and having the author of one of my all-time favourite series giving me an opportunity to add a little Lockey into Adrian’s world is a huge honour. He has been a tremendous feedback loop, with insightful observations, suggestions, and support—and repeatedly educating an English fellow on firearms (“Safety? What Safety?”)—while acting as my editor for the story. He’s so easy to work with, a general all-round decent human being, and I shall be forever grateful.

  I shall do my utmost to make Lockey, Nate, and Particles worthy of their place in Adrian’s world, and I feel it’s worth a very public display of my gratitude for all your faith, feedback, experience, and support.

  So, thank you.

  Lockey Vs. the Apocalypse: No More Heroes

  Copyright © 2020 Carl Meadows

  Edited by Chris Philbrook

  The Adrian’s Undead Diary universe was created by Chris Philbrook.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. Your support of author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America

  First Publishing Date 2020

  All characters in this compilation are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Cover and interior design by Alan MacRaffen

  Can’t Wait for More?

  Look for Chris Philbrook’s FREE short fiction eBook, At Least He’s Not on Fire.

  Find it on Amazon, Goodreads, or Smashwords today!

  Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00JSGEKIK

  Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/21948978-at-least-he-s-not-on-fire

  Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/430970