A Little More Dead by Sean Thomas Fisher Read Free Book Online Page B

chicken
soup.”
    “That’s not good.”
    “Yeah, and this other one time I killed
a werewolf.”
    Paul stared down at Matt, eyebrows
dipping beneath his ski cap. “You did?”
    “Don’t listen to him,” Mike said. “He
also thinks he can create force fields around him.”
    “I can and you know it, Mikey !”
    “Then let’s see ya stop this.” Mike pelted his younger brother in the face with a snowball and
laughed.
    Matt brushed the snow from his eyes, face turning a bright shade of blistering red, and charged,
tackling Mike to the ground in a plume of white powder.
    “Whoa!” Dan said, stopping as they
tumbled at his feet.
    “Matthew!” Carla rushed over to untangle
them. “You two are going to get us all killed! This isn’t a joke. People are
dying and you’re out here playing?!”
    Paul glanced at Sophia, who mirrored his
nervous expression.
    They looked around and then kept walking,
the backside of the dated gas station getting larger with every step.
    “So,” Matt said, working his short legs
to catch back up to Paul. “Can I have a rainbow knife too?”
    “ Rambo knife,” Paul corrected. “And we’ll see what we can find.”
    “Hey Paul?”
    He looked down to Mike. “Yeah buddy?”
    “Will there be a Christmas this year?”
    He swallowed hard. “Of course there will.”
    “How do you know that Santa didn’t turn
into one of those things?”
    Paul opened his mouth and paused. “Because
his reindeers can fly and they all got away.”
    “Even the elves?” Matt asked.
    “Even the elves.”
    Mike frowned. “What about Mrs. Claus?”
    “She got away too,” Paul replied,
watching Sophia crack an actual smile that warmed his heart. “Who do you think
was driving?”
    Mike mulled it all over for a few
seconds in his head, high stepping through the snow. “I don’t want Santa coming
down my chimney if he’s one of those things.”
    Paul smothered a laugh.
    “Why? Will Santa eat us instead of the
cookies we leave out for him?” Matt asked, catching back up and quickly falling
two steps behind.
    “Just keep walking boys,” Carla urged,
saving Paul the trouble of answering such a morbid question.
    “If I have to,” Matt panted, “I’ll take
Santa out with my Nerf gun.”
    Paul smiled. “Now you’re talking.”
    The gas station grew larger while visions
of dead Santa danced through Paul’s head. He imagined a bloodstained St. Nick
absent-mindedly knocking a plate of cookies to the floor with a clatter before
lumbering upstairs to where the children were nestled all snug in their beds.
Shaking the grisly thought from his head, he tightened his grip on the Mossberg
500. One way or another, they would have Christmas again.
    He refused to let those things win.

 
 
 
 
    Chapter Ten

 
 
 
 
 
    Dan and Paul peeked around the corner of
the gas station, praying the crunching of snow beneath their boots hadn’t given
them away. Two empty cars sat parked at the pumps, one of which was a Missouri
State Patrol car with the driver’s side door hanging wide open. Three other
vehicles sat parked by the station’s glass front doors – one with someone
slumped over the steering wheel. The rotting state trooper did irregular
circles in the parking lot, alone and aimless, his round hat lying in a patch
of red snow by the front doors. The man stole Paul’s breath. It was the first
time he had the chance to stop and get a good look without running or pulling
the trigger.
    “Well, at least we know which car is
his,” Dan whispered.
    “Hopefully, he filled up before he
turned.”
    The cannibal cop stopped his black boots
and sniffed at the air, like a bloodhound catching a sudden whiff of a fugitive
on the lam. Slowly, he lowered his chewed off nose and turned to Paul and Dan,
his eyes black holes to death.
    “Oh shit,” Paul muttered, holding up a
hand for everyone to be perfectly still.
    Sophia passed the message to Carla and
the boys, her pink gun aimed at the ground.
    The