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

to my surprise, he simply nodded. “Aye, I know. Mark’s got a cool head and he’ll take it seriously, because it allows him to protect his son. Now that Alicia has cooled off, I’m willing to see how she fares. Those two are the only viable candidates at the moment. Maria might be a good fit as well.”

“Maria? You’re thinking of training a nurse to use a weapon intended to kill?”

Nate shrugged. “I’d say a medical professional could be more effective than most. Who better to know just where to put that bullet?”

“Hmm. Fair point,” I conceded. “But I know Maria, and she doesn’t like violence at all. She’s a healer and a carer. I can’t see her toting a handgun.”

Nate conceded and let the matter lie. “Norah won’t be going out into the field, but she already knows how to use a shotgun if things get weird here.” Pfft. Of course Norah knows how to use a shotgun. She’s probably got a secret pair of nunchuks under her bed as well to go with her Kung Fu black belt. “Laura’s nowhere near ready for a weapon. We’ll leave her in Freya’s care for now.”

“That leaves Isaac.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, replying in a dry tone.

“Because he performed so well under pressure the first time he was in the field?”

“Well, admittedly it wasn’t his finest moment getting a trolley jammed in our only exit, then nearly getting eaten by the world’s slowest shambling zombie, that he should have seen on at least four of his trips to the truck.” I stopped and pursed my lips. “Yeah, maybe he’s not ready right now.”

“They’re not like you, Erin,” he said. It was an off-hand throwaway statement, said without really thinking, and it completely caught my attention.

“What do you mean?”

Realising what he’d said, Nate simply sighed and shrugged, a kind of “ah well, fuck it” gesture.

“You drive me up the wall with your fast mouth, kid,” he said, though his tone was not unkind. One might even suggest it was affectionate. “But you keep your shit together far better than I’ve seen some soldiers in the field achieve. You act, sometimes recklessly, but the only time I’ve ever seen you freeze was when we found that rodent….”

“He’s a pug, Nate,” I said.

“When we found that rodent in the farmhouse. When his former owner surprised you, that was the only time I’ve seen you freeze on the spot, and you’ve never done it since. You take it all in your stride, Erin, and you’ve seen things you should never have seen.”

We both fell quiet for a moment, the memories of the apartment block trying to force their way back in. I shoved that door shut and stuck a mental chair under the handle.

“Despite all that,” he continued, “you keep going, always trying to make others laugh, always trying to get on my nerves to make yourself laugh.” I hate how well he knows me now. “You have the mental strength to deal with all of this bullshit. Whether that’s because you’ve looked after yourself for most of your life, I don’t know, but you’ve got the mental and emotional tools to keep going.”

I’d never heard so many words of open praise from Nate before. His approval was always a nod, or a smile, or the mere snatch of a statement. Hearing him extol all these virtues with regards to little old me was staggering, and then he dropped a piece of pure, solid gold.

“You know, I’m actually quite proud of you.”

Not going to lie, I actually teared up at that.

The only people who ever said they were proud of me were Dean and Maria, on how I turned my shit around from the dumb ass girl who used to steal and joyride cars. I got my GCSE’s, and they were proud. I got my A-Levels, and they were proud.

Then I went to university, got fucking leathered as I partied for three years, yet still managed to scrape a second in my degree, and got to wear the silly board and gown as I received my diploma. Even as I trembled at the mass of student debt accrued in those three years, they were still fucking proud. Mind you, all debts are off now, eh?

Nate was partly right. I’d done most of it myself, but without Deano and Maria, I wouldn’t have made it half as far. By the way, my diploma was a Creative Writing degree. Ha! And who said my degree would be fucking useless? Who’s recording the end of the world now, bitches? I’m the bard of the apocalypse. Bow to me.

All that aside, hearing Nate openly say he was proud of me, was a thorough fisting to my feels. (Three years of university for that statement. Suck it.) Those words punched me hard in the heart and teared me right up. I know I’ve said I lived for those little moments when Nate signalled his approval of my words or actions, but I didn’t realise how important his opinion of me was until he said, “I’m actually quite proud of you.”

Shit, I got all teary again just writing it.

Yesterday ranked pretty high on my list of FUCKING GREAT DAYS.

Then I made myself laugh as I remembered Nate’s first sight of me was my bare arse pointing in his direction. We’ve come a long way in a short time, have me and old Papa Reaper.

Well, I had to go and get my shit together after that, but we got back on track, and focused on our next plan of action. So today, we’re going to take the van and pickup, with just Mark and Isaac coming along. We were going to take Alicia as an extra pair of hands, but Nate advised that taking her back there might trigger her this early, so her staying back and hanging out with the girls, Charlie, and Particles, with all the actual menfolk out of the house, might give her a bit of breathing space. No