Santa vs Zombie Apocalypse

Billy hears a noise.

“Did you hear that?” Billy asked, turning his head up, towards the ceiling.

“Will you forget about that? Santa isn’t coming, Billy.” Billy’s sister wasn’t trying to be mean, she loved Billy, but she knew that believing in fairy tales was a luxury they couldn’t afford right now. Especially with the horde of zombies outside their house, looking for live human flesh to eat and brains to snack on. Ever since the zombie outbreak, the nights have been the worst. Billy was young, too young to really understand what the world has turned into, but still young enough to believe in Santa Claus.

“You told me if I was a good boy this year then Santa would visit and leave me a present,” he said innocently, his big blue eyes looked at his sister with hope and a little frustration at her insistent claims that Santa wasn’t real, of course, he was, he saw him himself at the Woodlands Hill mall last year, letting children sit on his lap so he could find out what they wanted for Christmas.

Justine took a deep breath, at fifteen she was far too young to be in charge of herself, let alone Billy, but she didn’t have a choice. There was no one else, her parents weren’t coming back. Justine knew this; she knew they had been taken by one of the thousands, if not millions of roaming zombies outside. It was up to her, she was determined to keep Billy safe, for as long as she could anyway. She had begun to understand one simple truth, eventually, they would be taken too. But before that happened, she was going to make damn sure that Billy was happy, that he was untouched by the wickedness that awaited them outside.

She looked over to the pantry and the food stacked on the floor. It was getting smaller, dwindling as the days passed. It made her heart do a flip in her chest.

“I know I said Santa would come if you were good, and you have been good, it’s just I think Santa may be a little too busy this year is all,” Justine said.

“Too busy with what? His only job is to deliver presents once a year, how hard can that be?” Billy asked with complete seriousness.

Justine turned her head to the ceiling as well, towards the sound of something scraping on the roof.

“See? It’s him, I know it is!” Billy squealed happily.

“Shhh!” Justine hissed. “Remember what I told you? Nighttime is a quiet time.”

“Right,” Billy answered, putting his finger to his lips. He looked at Justine with love and complete trust; intent on following her lead, his love for her almost broke Justine’s heart. “The nighttime is a quiet time,” he said, almost like a chant.

He snuggled closer with his sister, trying to stave off the cold that had been slowly seeping in and looked over to the small stockings hung over the cold, empty fireplace.

“He’s just gotta come, just gotta,” he whispered to himself.