Lockey vs. the Apocalypse | Book 1 | No More Heroes [Adrian's Undead Diary Novel] Meadows, Carl (book recommendations for teens TXT) 📖

went past, and another. Every one of them was silent as a crypt, only the odd scrape of a shoe on asphalt disturbing the night air.

Super creepy.

I swear, I was twitching and sweating like Anne Frank in a pair of tap shoes as the undead wandered blindly past us, and looked down to Particles, feeling the little guy shiver under my hand. He was scared witless, which was much better than him barking some challenge at the undead and drawing them to us. He’s a good pooch and knows when to keep his mouth shut.

I watched in cold silence, hugging Particles to me, as about eight or nine undead shambled past us up the country road, drawn to the constant wall of noise by the morons in the distance. All three of us remained perfectly still, not even the twitch of a muscle, until the group had passed us by.

We waited in silence for another hour, the same stupid drumming and chanting banging away for at least another thirty minutes. No more undead shuffled past and finally, we started to relax.

Didn’t get much sleep that night, though.

Shit, I’d never been so damn happy for the sun to come up and the world have the lights flicked back on again.

“What was that drumming last night, do you think?” I asked Nate.

He shrugged. “No idea, but whoever they are, they’re thick as shit.”

“We should go warn them,” I said, excited at the prospect of new people.

Nate shook his head in the negative. “They made their choice. Can’t risk it.”

“What if they don’t know, Nate?” I said. “What if they’ve no idea the world’s shat itself?”

“How can anyone not know?”

I shrugged. “I didn’t say I had the answers. But come on, we know there are other people nearby now. Let’s find them. Strength in numbers blah blah blah.”

Nate snorted, spooning more beans from a can into his cavernous maw.

“Those numbers sound more like a hindrance than help.”

He was starting to get on my nerves now.

“Look, you big miserable bastard, there are people nearby who might not know if the world is even ass-fucked by razor blades, but more than that, there are simply people.” I threw my hands up, exasperated by his spectacular lack of give-a-shit. “What’s the fucking point carrying on living like this, Nate? Huh? Crawling around, picking over graves and empty farmhouses for little bits of food, a splash of diesel here and there, maybe some nice shotgun cleaning supplies or ammo. That’s all very well as a start, but that isn’t any life, Nate. This is just a fucking existence. I want people. I want a bath. I want to stop moving just for a little fucking while as we figure all this shit out!”

I was almost panting by this stage, shoulders heaving and spitting my words through clenched teeth.

“Fuck, I want some clean clothes!” I moaned. “I swear my sports bra has fucking mould growing on it right now. Hell, I just want to take my damn bra off for an evening.”

Clearly my brassiere talk made Nate a little uncomfortable, what with him being so old school and what not, so obviously—being the little shit that I am—I jumped on that like a predator.

“I think new life is starting to grow in my under-boob, Nate,” I said, my mood improving with each new squirm. “A whole species of tit-fungus is growing in those dark and dank places. I need to give them a good scrub and let them air for a bit. Same with my crotch.” He visibly blanched as I moved the conversation below. “I swear upon all that is holy and sacred, my lady-garden has turned into the Amazon in rainy season with all the sweat down there.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hand up in defeat to stop me talking. “Shit, we’ll go take a look. No promises if we’ll stay, but fucking hell Erin, please, stop jabbering about your bits.”

Victorious, I gave him a haughty nod, like I was royalty granting my approval to a peasant soldier.

“Well… good,” I said imperiously.

People.

Sweet. I couldn’t wait. I was so looking forward to it. Potentially a community, and if I was really lucky, they’d have some kind of running water for a bath or shower. I don’t even care if it’s cold. I just want to stop smelling like a zombie shat me out yesterday and left me to bake in the sun.

Well, we met those new people. I’m going to give my hand a rest before I introduce you to our new friends.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

Buckle up.

10th Entry

SERIOUSLY?

We set off at a slow roll, mainly because Nate’s two speeds are crawl or dead when he’s behind the wheel. We followed the road for about a mile before Nate brought the pickup to a dead stop.

“Shit,” he breathed.

There was a big ass wooden gate, just set off from this tiny country road, a good eight feet tall mounted on columns of brick. Either side were just long lengths of dense brush, utterly impassable for anything larger than a fox that acted as a border wall. However, milling about outside this gate were zombies.

Lots of zombies.

There must have been maybe forty or fifty, just banging their faces against the gate, pressing against it. I could see it was bent inwards slightly from the inexorable push that the undead provided, tireless and constant.

“How are there so many?” I whispered.

Nate shrugged, his deep voice almost inaudible. “Don’t know. Maybe those morons have been doing that drumming night after night and they’ve been drawn in over time in tiny groups, like that one last night.” He sniffed. “That seals it though.”

“What seals what?”

“We can’t get in and I’m not blazing through ammunition to take all those fuckers down.” He glanced at me askew. “And you’re not combat effective enough for this tight space. Open space maybe, but not crowded on this little narrow road.”

“There must be another way in for people with actual brains,” I offered. “Those dumb shits