Dead Flesh: Stories of the Living Dead

by Hilden, Josh

  “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.

  Ten

  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.”

  Eleven

  Tea Party Patriot Bunker

  “The dead are coming!” the elf said bringing his mount in for a landing. The reindeer snorted in agreement and stamped its hoof on the asphalt.

  The elf and reindeer team had been on a long aerial recon of the area making sure all was going as Santa planned. Other teams were landing across the fields in front of the bunker. As human units were bolstered and reinforced across the world, select teams of elf and reindeer warriors rallied to Santa. Amongst the elves and reindeer were elite teams of humans sent by the governments of the world for this assault.

  Everything hinged on this action and Santa had been put in overall command. He was the only person all the surviving governments trusted to give the orders needed to end the nightmare.

  “We want them to come to us Hermy,” Santa said looking through his brightly colored binoculars. “Our people will be safer with the enemy coming at our defenses than if we attacked them. We need to keep the dead occupied while we breach the bunker.”

  The elf nodded in silent agreement.

  In the far distance a wall of ambulatory corpses chewed up the distance between themselves and Santa’s Army of elves, reindeer, and humans. All that could be done had been done and now they had to wait, once the army of the dead was engaged and occupied the way to the complex and the vaccine would be opened to them.

  “Krampus,” Santa said turning to his lifelong frenemy. “While the good boys and girls engage the dead you and I will deal with the bunker.”

  The holiday demon flicked his serpent tongue and grinned with delight. Never has he been given the opportunity to enact punishment on such naughty people. He was hopping up and down with excitement. He was like a puppy jerking at the end of his leash.

  The forces of the living and dead clashed in the middle of the field. Blood flew as elves, reindeer, and humans were torn asunder. But for every good boy and girl brought down by the ocean of the dead, a thousand zombies were left broken and empty. The heavens roared and the ground shook with the cacophony of carnage.

  “Now Krampus!” Santa yelled.

  The two ancient beings, opposite sides of the same coin, dashed for the entrance of the bunker. The locks on the bunker, some of the most complicated and powerful in the world yet to Santa they were as effective as a piece of string. Once inside the concrete and steel fortress Santa was assaulted by the smell of death.

  “I think the dead may have already been dispatched,” Krampus said growling and sniffing the stagnant air of the bunker. They moved swiftly through corridors stepping over unmoving corpses. “But I can smell at least one living person here.”

  They rounded a corner and nearly ran into her.

  Congresswoman Shelly was dressed in riot armor. In one hand she held a fire axe coated in blood and gore. In the other she held two ropes connected to the necks of two zombies. Senator Eddie and Congressman Willie had fought her at first but now they accepted their new place under her command.

  “Oh Shelly, you’ve been a naughty little girl,” Santa said shaking his head sadly. “Tell us where the vaccine is and we’ll let you be.”

  “This is my time now!” the woman shrieked. Her eyes bulged with insanity, any rational thought she might have once possessed had been exorcised from her during the course of the long nightmare. “Serve me Santa. Join me and together we’ll rule the world!”

  Krampus vaulted past Santa and scooped Congresswoman Shelly off her feet. She attempted to bring the axe down on him but Krampus snatched it from her hand and snapped it like a twig. “Naughty girl,” he hissed flinging her over his hairy shoulder.

  Zombie Eddie and Zombie Willie moaned and moved towards them.

  Santa acted quickly shattering both of their skulls with a single strike from his staff. The former politicians and conspirators crumpled to the cold hard ground.

  “Get the vaccine Santa,” Krampus said grinning. “There are many spankings to be delivered to this one.”

  Congresswoman Shelly screamed as Krampus bounded away. As he hopped on his strong goat legs he delivered smack after smack to her narrow bottom.

  Krampus will do his job and do it well. It is after all his purpose in life. I need to get the vaccine and replicate it in my sack then I need to spread it to all the good little boys and girls.

  And Santa was as good as his plan. Once he located the vaccine he used the tremendous magic of his sack to replicate it. Then using his powers over space and time he delivered the vaccine to the children of the Earth and their parents. It wasn’t enough to end the zombie plague in a night but coupled with the heroics of the human, elf, and reindeer warriors they managed to turn the tide.

  As the sleigh returned to the North Pole on Christmas morning, Lucy woke. She’d slept through the end of the fighting and the night of deliverie
s. Martha Kringle was waiting for her husband, hot coco in hand.

  Epilogue

  Christmas Eve, One Year Later

  The year had been one of hard work and rebuilding. In the aftermath of the Christmas Zombie War, the children of the Earth came together. Old differences and conflicts were set aside and all the good boys and girls worked to make the world a better and brighter place. Things were far from perfect but every day thing got a little better.

  The North Pole

  “Ho-Ho-Ho,” Santa called out entering the stables to inspect the team. “Are we ready to head out, team?”

  The line of excited reindeer, with Rudolph at the front of the line, stamped their hooves in affirmation.

  “Good!” Santa exclaimed examining the raiment of each member as he passed them. “Now where is my assistant?”

  “Here I am, Papa Santa!” Lucy cried out entering the stable. “Mama Claus wanted me to make sure I finished my dinner before we left.”

  Santa took his foster daughter up in a hug and spun her around.

  “Well that’s just fine,” he said laughing as she giggled with dizziness. He set her back on her wobbly legs and tweaked her nose playfully. “Now we have a lot to do and we need to get moving.”

  Lucy, dressed in a miniature version of Santa’s own working clothes, took her spot next to him in the sleigh. Maybe it was fate that brought Santa to her in the dark night, or maybe it was chance, but regardless when he laid eyes on her, Santa knew her destiny.

  Santa was long-lived but not immortal. He knew one day he would be too ancient to continue delivering the presents. He’d often wondered who’d do the job when he no longer could but now worried no more. One day Lucy, the daughter of his heart, would take his place and wear the name of Santa.