This short story is about three men who risk life and limb in a Zombie Apocalypse in order to bring happiness to surviving kids on Christmas Morning.
5 out of 5 stars – An Uplifting Tale of Christmas Generosity, in a Time When Helping Others is a Real Challenge.
5 out of 5 stars – I love zombies and I love Christmas ~ A winner!
5 out of 5 stars – A Cute Little Holiday Horror Story.
5 out of 5 stars – In a zombie world, there is a Christmas miracle.
The one that started The Mike Beem Chronicles.
And a crowd favorite.
Mike Beem lowered his rifle, put his right eye on the scope, and closed his left eye. The zombie he was about to shoot was an ugly sucker. From what Mike could tell, this zombie used to be a man around five foot five or six, maybe seven. Hell, he couldn’t tell the exact height from just a tiny scope. Its suit was disheveled, full of dirt and blood (it looked fresh, a recent feast perhaps), and half of his face was gone. This zombie was currently investigating Mike’s Santa Claus and reindeer display. The zombie was studying it like he knew what it was or remembered what it was.
“Don’t pick up Rudolf. Don’t,” Mike replied to himself.
The zombie leaned over and picked up Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer.
That did it.
You see, the biggest problem was this. When you messed with Rudolph, you screwed up the whole display. All the reindeer were attached by string; and that string led into the hands of Santa, who was glued by his butt to the sleigh he was sitting in. When the zombie picked up Rudolph, the rest of the display just went into disarray.
Mike didn’t want to shoot the zombie just yet, because if he fell forward then it would crush the display all together. Mike waited until the zombie was trying to walk away with Rudolph, shambling off, munching on the plastic reindeer, and the display dragging behind him.
Perfect head shot, display still safe.
Mike was on the balcony of the house when he made the kill, so he took the rope ladder and dropped it over the side. He put the rifle down and grabbed a couple of pistols nearby. He checked their chambers, full, locked, and loaded. He put the guns in their holsters and climbed down to the ground.
Mike walked across the lawn, eyes back and forth, looking for zombies.
He stopped, got down on one knee, took out a pistol, and aimed this pistol with the light reflecting off the metal.
It was another perfect head shot. The zombie hit the pavement, and he didn’t move. The noise from the gun had stirred up more of them, so Mike had to get to his display, fix it, and then get back.
So, Mike grabbed Rudolph out of the dead zombie’s hands, and put the display back in order. He quickly made his way back to the house, where nothing was stirring, not even a mouse. He shot a few zombies with his pistol as he ran across the yard, climbed back up the rope ladder and found his place on the balcony.
He turned on his boom box.
Perry Como flooded the air with Christmas cheer.
The zombies were getting restless, so Mike decided it was time to even out the herd. It was pretty easy shooting.
He stopped his rampage when something white hit his nose. He looked up into the sky as flakes of snow began to fall. It was the first snow fall of the year.