Santa Vs. The Living Dead (3 page)

Santa’s Sleigh

              “Rudolph!” Santa called over the blowing wind. “She’s in the second floor, back corner bedroom. I need you to bring the sleigh to her window and hover!”

              The lead reindeer, his nose so bright Santa was forced to don his sunglasses, nodded and changed direction. The eight other members of the team worked like the well-oiled machine they were and in moments the sleigh hovered even with the window.

              “Well now this is no good,” Santa said as the door inside the darkened bedroom flew open. “Perhaps I have something in my sack to help deal with this mischief.”

              Reaching into the massive red velvet bag Santa concentrated hard. The space inside the sack contained everything he could possibly imagine and all he had to do was concentrate and close his hand to retrieve them. Never before had Santa needed an item such as the one he summoned now. The six foot long red and white striped cane emerged glowing with an internal radiance.

              “Yes, I believe this will be sufficient,” Santa hummed softly.

              Locks, latches, obstacles, and barricades were of no consequence to Santa. With a touch of his finger to the tip of his nose the window to young Lucy’s bedroom flew open allowing the cold air to rush inside.

              “Hold it steady Rudolph, I’ll be back in a flash,” Santa said bounding over the threshold and into the house. His boots hit the soft yellow carpet as Santa brandished the staff before him. In front of him half a dozen of the living dead stared blankly with more living dead outside of the bedroom.

             
Oh these poor boys and girls, they all used to be good. This isn’t their fault but that doesn’t change the fact they are all on the very, very, naughty list now. The best I can do for them is put them out of their misery.

              “Ho-Ho-Ho,” Santa called out spinning the staff and grinning, “I’m looking for a good little girl named Lucy. Have any of you naughty boys and girls seen her?”

              The creatures groaned and began to shuffle toward Santa. Apparently they were unaware of the bed in the room and looked around in confusion when they reached the barrier.

              “None of you are very bright, are you?” Santa chuckled. “Well that’s a good thing for all of the scared boys and girls.” Then he added sniffing the cold air, “My you all need a bath, you smell like reindeer poo.”

              First one and then three of the dead worked their way around the bed and made a direct line for Santa. The jolly fat man, clad all in red, stood still and waited. He knew the value of patience and he knew there was no need to hurry because they would come to him.

              “I am afraid Santa has to deliver a little holiday justice,” he cried out.

              Swinging the staff around and bringing it down on the head of the first zombie, Santa launched his attack. A sickening cracking sound filled the room and the zombie who’d been Lucy’s mommy dropped to the ground and moved no more.

              “I apologize my lady but sometimes unpleasant things need to be done,” Santa whispered as he advanced on to the next one, which he dropped. Then the next, and the next, and the next until no more of the living dead remained in Lucy’s house.

              “Lucy,” Santa said reentering the little girl’s room, “it’s safe to come out now”.

              Slowly the form of the little girl scooted out from under the bed.

              “Are you alright Lucy?” Santa asked kneeling as she stood so they were both eye to eye.

              Lucy nodded but didn’t say anything.

              “I am very sorry about your family Lucy,” Santa continued trying to gauge the little girl’s level of shock. It broke his heart to see her in such pain. “Would you like to come with me?”

              Instead of answering Lucy threw her arms around the fat man and hugged him tight. There was no way even Santa could take away her pain but his main ability was to bring joy. The hug was enough to break the girls shock and allow her tears to flow.

              Time stopped.

              Not metaphorically either. Much like locks and latches—the forward flow of time was Santa’s to command. All around them the snow, the wind, and the world itself froze in place so that he could give little Lucy all the time she needed to cry. They stood there for a heartbeat… they stood there for an eternity.

The Heritage Compound

              Before this night Chucky and Davey ruled the country. Not actually but they were part of the global elite. They were members of the group of ultra rich and powerful who’d attempted to use the virus to control the human race. To them, regular Americans were simply tools to be used and assets to be exploited.

              Now they were being punished.

              “Cry for me!” Krampus called out gleefully bringing the lash down.

              Long the secret counterbalance to the altruistic nature of his brother, Santa Krampus, relished his job as much as Santa loved his own. Davey and Chucky were both bent over the ornate dining room table in their compound, pants around their ankles. The table, an ancient thing, was worth more than the homes of most Americans.

              “Stop, please stop!” Davey cried as the lash came down on his bare buttocks.

              Chucky just wailed incoherently.

              “Why would I stop?” Krampus asked bringing the lash down again. “Not since Adolph, have I enjoyed dishing out punishment this much. The two of you are so very naughty!”

              Standing over seven feet tall and with a demonic visage, Krampus was the embodiment of the word punishment. As the centuries ebbed and flowed his services were needed in varying degrees but tonight, with the catastrophe these two men and their cohorts had unleashed on the human race, he was blessed with more than he could handle.

              “Now tell me how this all happened, tell me your sins!” Krampus ordered bringing the lash down again.

              It was Chucky who spoke first and when he was done Krampus was left in a conundrum. He punished not because he hated but because he loved. His job was to be the hand of justice and he reveled in it, but now he needed to change tactics. Tonight he needed to be the hero.

              “You two stay here,” he said snapping his fingers. Chains appeared from thin air and bound them to the table. “I have to see a fat man about a mission and then I’ll be back to play.”

              Krampus disappeared from the compound with a loud popping noise. He left only the smell of brimstone in his wake.

The North Pole

              “I don’t care how many of them there are you can’t let them into that school” Donner said into the radio. “Five hundred children are counting on you Hermy.”

             
“Yes sir,”
the elf on the other end of the radio replied.
“We’ll do all we can, if those things want these kids they’ll have to go through us.”

              “They’re doing their best Donner,” Mrs. Claus said from behind the haggard looking reindeer. “You need to cut them a little slack.”

              “I know Martha, but with so much of the human government fallen, our people are the only chance the children have,” he said sounding near the edge of defeat. “If we fail… everyone might die. You should be the one in charge here Martha, I feel like I’m dropping the ball.”

              “You listen to me Donner, you’re doing better than anyone else could and that’s why Kris put you in charge of coordinating things,” Martha Kringle said wrapping her arms around the buck’s powerful neck and hugging him tight. “And I have my own responsibilities, refugees are pouring in by the thousands and someone has to organize and supply everyone.”

              “I just wish we knew how all of this happened,” the elder reindeer growled.

              “I might be able to help you with that,” a new voice said.

              Donner and Martha both turned to see Krampus standing in the doorway. The creature was covered in snow and a devilish grin spilt his face.

              “Krampus,” Martha said rushing over and hugging the shaggy behemoth. “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be working?”

              “I was and I came upon a bit of delicious information we might be able to use in order to end this madness,” Krampus replied.

              “What did you learn?” Donner asked joining them. One of his assistants, a young elf named Pete, took over the radio station. “I have to tell you Krampus, we could use some good news right about now.”

              “Donner old bean,” Krampus said laughing, “I know how this happened, why it was done, and who’re responsible.”

              “What do you need?” Mrs. Claus asked, she was all business now.

              “I need to see the big man,” Krampus answered.

              Donner stood up straight and squared his shoulders before he spoke, “I’ll take you to him myself.”

              Once he’d rescued the little girl with the special gift Santa set out to help coordinate the battles against the dead. There was no time to take Lucy back to the safety of the North Pole, he already felt a tad guilty about the detour to save her.

              With time and space his to control in a limited degree, Santa went to war with the dead. He was everywhere at once bolstering defenses, rescuing the innocent, and rallying the defenders across the globe. Wherever he went the light and hope of the human race went with him. Because of Santa, bastions held and the men and woman of the world began to turn back the living dead before they reached the point of no return.

The White House

              “I’m afraid I’ll have to poke you full of Ho-Ho-Holes!” Santa yelled bringing the end of his staff, now equipped with a wicked point, down on the last zombie’s skull.

              All around the oval office zombies lay in smoking heaps. The President, his family, and half a dozen secret service agents stared in shock from behind the makeshift barricade of the flipped over Resolute Desk.

              “Thank you Santa,” the President said coming out from behind the desk. “You have saved my family.”

              “Oh Barry, you and your boys and girls were doing a good job, I just gave a helping hand” Santa replied hugging the President of the United States tightly. “You’re people are in trouble and they need their leader. Now I have a present for you Barry.”

              Santa handed a red and green flash drive to the President.

              “What is this?” the President asked.

              “All of the information my people have collected on the state of the country and the world,” Santa answered turning and heading for the window he’d entered from. Through the opening Lucy was clapping at Santa’s victory.

              “Thank you Santa!” the men, women, and children in the Oval Office called out.

              Then Santa was gone.

The Vatican

              “Holy Father, the monsters are at the door!” the former Archbishop of St. Louis whined. “We need to get to the tunnels!”

              “Quiet boy,” the Pope replied, his Argentine accent a soft and gentile contrast to the loud American. “The poor and the helpless need those tunnels worse than we do. As long as the innocent are in danger I will not leave the Vatican, and neither will you.”

              The sounds of the Swiss Guard in vicious close quarters combat with the dead could be heard on the other side of the doors. Gunfire and the moans of the dead mixed with the smell of burnt cordite lending the atmosphere in the chamber an unworldly feel. The four guardsmen in the chamber had their assault rifles leveled at the heavily barricaded doors.

              “But your grace, what good will you do the faithful by sacrificing yourself here?” the former Archbishop sniveled.

              Before the Pope could answer, the large doors overlooking the central square flew open. Cold air and snow, even though the weather in Rome had been sunny and mild all week, blew into the room. A smile split the old yet vital Popes face when he saw the man stepping into the room.

              “Ho-Ho-Ho Frank, sorry I’m late but there was a bit of trouble in Paris,” Santa bellowed brandishing his staff and striding purposefully toward the pontiff.

              “Saint Nicholas,” Pope Frank responded dropping to one knee and bowing his head. “You honor us all with your presence.”

              “Get up now Frank, you’re a good boy, none of these silly Reindeer Games” Santa replied with a jolly laugh. “You’ve known me since you were a little boy dreaming of a new football under the tree and for your mama to get a pretty dress for Christmas!”

              “Thank you Nicholas,” Pope Frank said rising to his feet and grinning like a child. The light of hope and wonder shone in the old man’s eyes. Few knew one of his fondest dreams was to meet the patron Saint of Children before he died. Then he grew serious. “Please, my people need your help.”

              “Of course Frank, that’s why I’m here,” Santa answered patting the man on his shoulder and stroking his beard. “My boys and girls are already in the city helping your Guard and the Italian Army.”

              Relief filled Pope Franks face.

              “Oh please Saint Nicholas, get us out of here?” the former Archbishop pleaded thrusting his body between Santa and Pope Frank.

              The smile left Santa’s face and hardness filled his eyes. “You’ve been a bad boy,” he said in a cold whisper.

              The former Archbishop looked as if he’d been slapped. Without another word he turned, ran to the open windows, and threw his body into the darkness.

              Pope Frank watched in sick horror. When he turned back to speak with Santa the man was already gone. Outside the doors, the sounds of fighting lessened.

Buckingham Palace

              “Taste my steel you old hag!” the dashing young man with red hair and clad in the officers dress of a soldier yelled, driving an ornate yet battle worthy saber trough his stepmothers head. The formerly advancing and moaning corpse dropped to the two hundred year old Persian carpet spilling congealing blood and brain matter in a lumpy pool.

              The city of London was a war zone. Not since the Blitz of World War II had so much damage been done to the seat of the Empire. Gunfire, sirens, and the sounds of moans filled the air coming through the smashed windows of the palace.

              Harry was the last of the line. His grandmother, father, brother, and sister in law had all fallen to the zombies and their gnashing jaws. In one hand Prince Harry held his saber, having run out of bullets for his side arm, and in the other he held his nephew who was now the King of England.

              “Don’t worry little George,” Harry whispered taking in the mounds of dead he’d put down since the barricades at the gates fell. “They won’t get you while life courses through my veins.”

              “And that’s why, even when you were rebellious you were always a good boy Harry,” a loud cheerful voice bellowed.

              Harry whipped around, saber ready to bite, and stared in shock. Father Christmas stood in front of him. Glowing with an internal light and radiating hope as the red clad man strode forward.

              “You’ve done a fabulous job holding the line my boy!” Father Christmas said taking the young King from his uncle and spinning him around.

              The young boy laughed and clapped his chubby hands in glee.

              “You’re real,” Harry whispered dropping his arm holding the saber and gawping in amazement and wonder. “Mum always said you were real. William and I wanted it to be true.”

              “You mother was one of the best to ever live,” Father Christmas answered handing the new monarch back to his warrior uncle.

              The baby giggled and clapped again.

              Harry nodded unable to speak.

              “I’ve brought reinforcements and hope to the people of the Kingdom Harry,” Santa continued all business now. “They need their leader out front and until little George is old enough, that is you my boy.”

              Harry stared at Father Christmas in shock. He’d not considered that until this very moment, he was in charge now.

              “Don’t worry my boy, you have the mind of a leader, the soul of a father, and the heart of a warrior. You will be brilliant!” With those words Santa turned and headed back to his sleigh, disappearing into the night.

              Young King George giggled in Harry’s arms.

The Kremlin

              One after another the zombies fell beneath Santa’s Candy Cane of Cleansing. Former staffers, soldiers, and politicians were no match for the relentless speed and strength of old Kris Kringle. The old man with the heart of a child had crisscrossed the globe doing what he could and helping when it was possible. Now he was here to do one thing, he was here to kill.

              “Oh so many naughty boys and girls who need to see Santa!” Santa called out chewing up the ground between himself and the barricaded doors at the end of the ornate hallway. “I’m coming for you Vladimir. I know you were part of this madness and I’m coming for you!”

              A zombie dressed in the uniform of a Russian Colonel lunged toward Santa. He’d learned all he’d needed to know about the living dead in the time since the outbreaks began and now he found them more an annoyance and truly only dangerous in large numbers.

              The head of his staff came down on the zombie’s head, which exploded in a clotted cloud of gore. The now headless corpse fell to the ground with a muffled thud and Santa continued down the hall without breaking his stride. There was a man on the other side of the door who needed to be stopped before he did something foolish and naughty. With a wave of the staff, locks and latches were disengaged and the doors flew open.

              “Just what do you think you are doing Vladimir?” Santa asked charging into the room.

              The bald thin man at the desk was staring at an open briefcase. His finger hovered over a shiny red button. A look of madness was in his eyes and Santa knew the time to take the ultimate action had come. It didn’t matter that if he let the man live he’d push the button and destroy the world. Santa knew this would haunt him forever.

              The staff flew through the air and struck the Czar in the forehead. There was a crunching sound followed by the man being driven from the massive leather chair to lay unmoving on his office floor.

              Outside the Russian people fought to retake the Rodina.

In the Sky

              “We need to move faster Rudolph!” Santa called out. He knew it was pointless to complain. Even with his ability to bend local space time there was not enough time or recourses for him to save everyone.

             
If only we knew how this all started maybe we could stop it!

              As if summoned by his thoughts a fast moving object caught his attention off the port side of the Sleigh. At first Santa thought it might be a missile coming up from the Russian frontier to extract some minute form of vengeance for the fall of the new Czar.

              “Santa, why is that Reindeer coming toward us?” Lucy asked from the seat next to him. “And who is that person riding on its back.”

             
She has a better ability to see with her mind than I do.

              “I’m not sure Lucy, but I don’t think they are a danger,” Santa responded pulling lightly on the reins and bringing the sleigh to a hover. He set the reins down and stood to greet the forms hurtling toward them. When they were close enough to make out in the clouded night air Santa was shocked by their identities.

              “Donner, why aren’t you back at the village coordinating the defense efforts around the globe?” Santa asked his closest and oldest friend as the chief reindeer came to a halt, and then he turned his attention to Donner’s passenger. “And Krampus, I thought you would be out punishing all of the naughty dead as they try to consume the good boys and girls.”

              “Kris,” Donner wheezed, it’d been many a season since he’d flown so far so fast. “Martha is running the show. I needed to get Krampus to you as fast as I could and I didn’t trust anyone else with the task.”

              “Santa,” Krampus interjected before Santa could ask Donner any questions, “I know how we can end this and save the world.”