Deadlocked 8 (47 page)

“It was badass,” said Billy as he gingerly
set his arm on his friend. “You were badass, like always.”

“Damn straight I was,” said Hero, retaining
the sense of humor that we’d all come to adore.

Jill turned away to face the window, and I
heard her soft sobs. I walked over to her, and wrapped my arms
around her as the gentle white light reflected off the snow outside
and in through the window onto us.

“Annie,” said Hero. “Damn it’s good to see
you.”

“It’s good to see you too, buddy.”

“You fucked up your hair,” he said, and Annie
laughed in response. “Nah, I’m kidding. You look as good as
ever.”

“Thank you,” she said as she knelt at his
side and kissed his cheek.

“Laura,” said Hero, and I looked back at him
with tears blurring my sight. “Come here.”

Annie and I traded places, and I knelt down
as Hero reached out to put his icy cold hand against my cheek. He
wiped away my tears, just as I had done for Annie moments ago.
“Damn Laura, you’re pretty even when you cry.”

I laughed, and it felt good to be happy
beside him again. He cupped the back of my head with his huge hand
and brought me closer so that our foreheads touched. I muttered
sloppily through tears, “I love you.”

“I know,” said Hero. Then he added, “Straight
up Star Wars shit right there.” Billy and I chuckled, but then Hero
pressed his hand harder against the back of my head and whispered,
“Kim…” Now it was Hero that was having trouble speaking through his
grief. “It should’ve been me, Laura.”

“No,” I said and moved so that I could kiss
his head. I shushed him and said, “She did what she had to.”

“I miss her,” he said. “I miss her every
day.”

“Me too.”

The moment was interrupted in the best way
possible as the whine of a baby called out from the hallway. Hero
let go of me and tried to sit up.

Jill walked over to us and I moved so that
she could be next to Hero. She placed her hand gently on his chest
and said, “No, you lay there. Just lay there, Hero.”

“Bring me that boy,” said Hero, and I’d never
heard him sound prouder.

Clyde came in with Mark in his arms. The baby
was crying, but not hysterically. He was reaching out and grasping
at the air, and his legs were pushing up one by one with tiny blue
socks to warm those wiggling toes.

Jill helped guide the baby to Hero’s side,
and nestled him in his daddy’s arms. Hero’s illness almost seemed
to vanish as I saw the sparkle in his eyes when he first gazed down
upon his son. “Look at you. Look at those eyes. Oh man, you’re your
Daddy’s son, aren’t you?” Mark grabbed at his father’s thumb and
held it. “Look at that grip! You’re my boy. You’re my boy.” He
repeated the phrase several times, each succession a little
quieter, until he was whispering it to the cooing babe.

Hero laid his head back, a smile as wide as
possible across his face. He looked around at us and said, “Look at
this, guys. Five days ago I thought I’d die in a hospital bed,
hooked up to machines that were barely keeping me alive. But now
I’m here, surrounded by people I love, and holding a dream come
true. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

We stayed with him for the rest of the day
and into the night. Hero’s breathing became more labored by the
hour, and we all knew the end would be here soon. None of us were
willing to leave. Seeing him in the bed with his son at his side
would be something I would cherish for the rest of my life.

When the end came, Hero had his boy in his
arms, and I heard him whisper his last word.

“Mark.”

I don’t know if he was saying his son’s name,
or greeting his brother in heaven.

I like to think both.

Annie Conrad

The High Rollers carried on, as we always had
and always will. Winter’s last gasp gave us an unexpected respite
as the Tempest Strain hibernated for a few more weeks before the
onset of spring. The people and animals infected by The
Electorate’s new apocalypse were weakened by the cold, exactly as
had been promised in the transcript of a communication that I’d
found in Jerald’s vehicle when I saved Mom out on the highway. We
took advantage of the cold, and fled to the mountains where Jerald
had sent the rest of his men and their families.

We all expected another war, and were
prepared for it. To our surprise, the military refugees had no
interest in another battle. In fact, they were in desperate need of
our help when we found them. The Rollers knew how to survive in
this new world, but the former soldiers that had been living in the
underground facility at the airport were now struggling to survive
in the Red world.

We fortified the town, and worked together to
protect our families from the world outside our walls. We forged
new friendships, and before long it seemed unthinkable that our two
groups had ever been at war.

Celeste and the other Dawns proved to be
indispensable allies, far stouter and healthier than any other
member of our new settlement. They were eager to learn about the
surface, and thankful for the new freedom they’d been given.
However, I don’t think Celeste ever truly got over the loss of
Hailey. A year later she disappeared from our new town, and Elise
told me that Celeste was headed to Juniper. I still don’t know why,
except that Celeste had said something to Elise about seeing
Griffin’s sunrise. Whatever it was that she was searching for, I’ve
got no doubt that she found it. She never made it back to us, but I
have a feeling she’s doing just fine out there, wherever she
went.

Mom and Zack wed shortly after we merged with
Jerald’s former soldiers, and the reception has often been
remembered as the best party any of us had ever seen. At that time,
we still hadn’t settled on a name for our new town. The refugees of
Vineyard asked Laura and Zack to come up with the name at their
wedding, just as Bonnie and Beach had done at the founding of their
old town. I expected them to name it New Vineyard, but was
pleasantly surprised when they settled on Hero’s Rest.

Billy’s back healed some, but he was never
quite the same. His final fight to save Hero had taken its toll,
but he rarely complained. Instead, he reveled in his role as Uncle
Billy, and made sure Mark was well-studied in the movies his father
loved. There were more than a few times when I heard Jill yelling
at Billy for letting Mark watch Tarantino films.

Clyde helped keep Jill from screaming too
much at Billy. He was a calming influence on the fiery woman, and
no one was surprised when their friendship blossomed into
romance.

My relationship with Ben grew stronger, and
he admitted his uncertainty about his past to me. Whether or not he
was a clone or the real Ben Watanabe was something that he’d been
struggling with, but then told me that he’d come to terms with it
by remembering something Harrison had told him about satellites and
shooting stars. Sometimes it’s better to believe in what makes you
happy, and leave it at that.

Ben was a constant companion for me, and he
was there every day as I struggled to deal with my mother’s
declining health. I felt helpless as she grew thin and weak.
Despite everything we tried, there was nothing that could heal her.
The strongest woman I’d ever known succumbed to an enemy none of us
could see.

Laura remained courageous all through those
last few months, but her illness finally sapped her of the strength
that had made her a legend among the Rollers. When her final day
came, she was surrounded by people who loved her. Instead of a
funeral we had a celebration, and it was a day of feasting and
revelry that became a new yearly tradition for our town. It was our
new Mother’s Day, because there’d never been a better example of a
perfect mother than her.

Zack built a statue of Laura in the center of
town. It was made of twisted steel rods, bent and hammered into the
shape of a tall, strong woman holding the hands of her two
children, and every year on Mother’s Day it was adorned with
overflowing mounds of flowers. I sometimes found Zack out by the
statue at night, sharing a drink with his love, and telling her
stories about how David was doing.

Hero’s Rest expanded its walls over the years
to allow safe pasture for a number of animals. Ben and I got our
little, secluded farmhouse on a hill, overlooking the town that
we’d helped establish. I spent plenty of nights sitting in a
rocking chair by our fire, a warm cup of tea steaming beside me.
This would be where we would raise our family, and our children
would never suffer the trials we’d been forced to overcome. That
made me smile as I sat with my feet by the fire and my hand resting
on my pregnant belly. I could finally relax. The war was over.

We never knew what became of The Electorate,
but I think the more important thing was that we didn’t care. They
never returned to bother us, and we were better off without feeling
a need for retribution. As far as we were concerned, the war was
over. It had been a long, tough journey, and we’d lost too many
heroes along the way.

We worked hard for our peace and happiness,
and we’ll enjoy both.

THE END

Deep breaths.

Just take a few deep breaths, and then say
it.

The End.

Oh, that’s hard to accept, but it’s finally
time. The Deadlocked series has come to a close.

It was November, 2011 that I published the
very first book (barely a novella) in the Deadlocked series. If
you’ve been reading the Author’s Notes in this series then you
already know that first book was inspired by my mother’s battle
with cancer, but what you don’t know is how that’s been the
prevailing theme of the entire second series (books 5 – 8) as
well.

After finishing the fourth book, I knew that
I wanted to start the next series 20 years in the future while
adding in some unexpected new story elements. At the same time, I
wanted to draw on the overall theme that had started this whole
journey. Before typing the first words of the fifth book, I already
had an ending in mind. More specifically, I had a couple of lines
that I knew would define the series for me:

I don’t know if he was saying his son’s
name, or greeting his brother in heaven.

I like to think both.

What I hoped to accomplish with this final
book was to present a character who could exemplify the idea that
not all heroes die in an epic fight or ultimate showdown. On the
contrary, a lot of our heroes die quietly in bed, after a long
battle with an unforgiving disease.

So many of us have lost loved ones to cancer
or another similarly vicious disease. We’ve watched these once
strong, vital people weakened by unseen forces tearing them apart,
and we’ve marveled at their strength of will as they face each new
day. To me, that’s what this story’s been about since the very
beginning. It’s always been an allegory to disease, the struggles
our heroes endure, and the families that carry on after.

And now it’s all over. But just like how a
deceased loved one never truly leaves us, I feel a sense of comfort
knowing that these characters will always be there for me too.
There are moments in this series that will stick with me for as
long as I live. I’ll always be able to think of Annie and Laura in
the back of the Range Rover, laughing and crying together. Hero
will always be chastising Billy for his plans before going ahead
with them anyway. And Celeste will always be out there somewhere,
on her own path, fighting her way through the world on her own
terms.

I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating:
The Deadlocked series changed my life. These characters, and the
struggles they went through, helped me achieve my dream of being a
full-time writer, and I’ll always remember them for that.

They’ve earned their peace and happiness.

One question I’m sure I’d be asked if I
didn’t say something about it here is, ‘Are there going to be more
books?’

While I’ve learned to never say never, I
currently have no plans for another book in the Deadlocked series.
I feel like this has been a satisfying end, and I don’t want to
risk ruining it by dragging it forward.

There’s always a chance that I’ll be plagued
by a desire to explore where Celeste ended up, or how the Rollers
are doing in another twenty years, but it would take a really great
story idea for me to be enticed back into this world.

For now, I’m content letting these characters
have their peace and happiness.

You’ve more than likely heard my shill about
my other books before, so I’m not going to add them here. I’m
feeling a bit too somber for that at the moment. Right now I just
want to warm my feet by the fire, enjoy a steaming hot cup of tea,
and fondly remember a few heroes I’ve lost along the way.