Christmas on Crack (19 page)

Rainy
and Gerald were running toward the fountain.

Crabs
poured over the fence near the pond.

“Holy
fuckin’ shit!” Staci yelled, pulling at Skipp. “Let’s fucking go!”

They
sped across the pond as the crabs hit the ice. They met up with the family at
the fountain, and all ran down the path toward home.

Between
the houses, near the tall hedges that bordered part of the path, they found
Lydia
’s skates.
And her hat. They were soaked in blood. No one stopped to investigate.

They
clattered down the path in their skates.

A
car drove across their lawn in front of them as they crossed the street. It
went straight across their driveway, bounding up and over the Assholes’ yard,
and smashed into a tree two doors down. No one seemed to be in it.

Rudy
ushered everyone inside the house and slammed the door behind them.

They
crumpled into a heap in the living room, panting and pulling off their skates.

It
smelled like apple pie and ham in the house.

“I
don’t know about anyone else, but I sure am hungry,” Rudy said.

“
Lydia
?” Gerald
called.

“Rudy,
my mom,” Rainey gasped, reaching up for him.

He
helped her up from the couch and hugged her. “I know. I know. I’m sorry it was your
mom that had to die, and mine who came back to make sure the pies didn’t burn.”

Staci
went into the kitchen. “Gramma?” she asked.

Everyone
followed.

Lydia
was not in the kitchen. The pies were
in the oven.

Rainey
said, “Oh, I should take those out.”

“
Lydia
?” Gerald
called loudly.

“Mom?”
Rudy shouted. “Check the toilet, Dad,” he said.

It
was quickly surmised that
Lydia
didn’t make it home.

Rudy
said, “At least we have the pies. We should get cleaned up and eat.”

“Well,
I
am
really hungry,” Staci said.

“Me,
too,” said Skipp, laying his shotgun across the counter.

“We
really shouldn’t waste all this food, and if we don’t

get to
it soon, it’s going to be ruined,” Rainey said.

Gerald
moaned, “
Lydia
would have wanted it this way.” “Okay,” Rudy said, “If you girls would get the
dinner together, we’ll block all the windows and doors. I think I could start
up some home movies. I’ll turn it up real loud so you can be sure to hear.
Let’s clean up and get to feasting!” Everyone scattered to various doors and
windows, blocking them off with furniture. Then they all found sinks to get
clean. Crabs swept past the house now and then, and sometimes skittered across
the roof. They seemed to be busy chasing people and cars down the street,
mostly ignoring the house.

Rudy
made a phone call and wrote an email to Andy, hoping he got some crabs for
Christmas and wishing him a happy New Year. Then he washed his hands and face
and went back to the living room.

He
put in the Olen Christmas DVD but left the TV on the news for a moment,
watching scenes of crab armies marching through cities and towns. The reporter
was talking about the military’s failing effort to control the crabs. He said
that more and more crabs were coming to life, and that they were growing even
bigger. The picture was scratchy and the newscaster’s voice wavered in and out.
Rudy turned it to the DVD when Skipp wondered aloud how many more shotgun
shells they had.

Rudy
heard a rustling sound and looked over to the fireplace. The cat was hiding
under the tree. He figured she must have made the noise, batting at ornaments.
He let his gaze wander, and noticed that the stockings hanging from the mantle
were still full of gifts. He could see candy sticking out of Staci’s.

“Kids!”
he exclaimed. “There’s stocking stuffers!”

He
leapt up and pulled down all the stockings. Everyone’s stocking was there,
packed tight with gifts.

“Come
see!”

Staci
and Rainey came in. The kids dumped their stockings out.

“Sweet!
Lizard Zombie Apocalypse III!” Skipp shouted.

“Nice,
thanks guys,” said Staci, pocketing gift cards, clasping jewelry, and replacing
the candy.

There
was a scuffling sound near the fireplace again.

The
fire went out. Gas continued to pour out of its burners.

Thin,
barbed legs swept out of the chimney, followed by black eyes on stalks. A
tremendous claw snaked its way out.

“Fuck!”
Rainey yelled. She snatched up Skipp’s shotgun that was leaning against the couch,
snapped it closed, and blasted at the crab.

She
hit one of its eyes, and all of its exposed legs. Bricks fell. Dust exploded
into the room. The crab screamed, falling into the room in a hail of masonry
and blood. Rainey pulled the second trigger.

The
blast hit the charging crab straight in its mouth, driving it back into the
pile of bricks. It flopped onto its back, and struggled to flip itself
over—kicking at the tilted Christmas tree. It hooked a string of lights in its
claw and fired its laser. A blast shot through the ceiling, burning a hole
through two floors and the attic roof. The laser beam severed the string of
lights, and the resulting spark set off the cloud of gas pouring into the
living room.

Something
slightly less than an explosion filled the room with just under a second of
fire. It crisped the flailing crab, and knocked everyone backward.

The
scampering crab righted itself as the fireplace went back to burning like a
comfortable log fire. Rudy blasted the crab, splitting it in half and
splattering the wall with blood.

Guts
sizzled in the fire and on the tree.

The
crab kicked and died. It kicked some more.

The
living room and everything in it was singed. All bore a black patina.

Rudy
coughed. “Well. I’m glad we got those stockings off the mantle before it was
torn apart.”

Everyone
agreed.

Skipp
righted the TV. It seemed to work. He started the DVD again.

Bricks
fell on the mangled crab corpse.

Rudy
shut off the gas to the fireplace and unplugged the tree. He kicked at the
crab. “Stupid jerk,” he said.

On
the screen, Christmas music played in the living room. The second best tree in
of all time was crammed in the very same corner of the living room where the
blackened tree, covered in crab guts, stood now, and all the family was
gathered around it. The grandparents were mostly asleep, and a slightly smaller
Skipp was running around, tickling them.

Off
the screen, Rudy sat down with Skipp and Gerald on the couch. Rainey and Staci
went back to putting food on the table. The old man asked why he didn’t have a
shotgun. Skipp shrugged. They watched the DVD of their previous Christmas. It
seemed pretty boring.

“I
wish I’d have gotten that new phone,” Skipp said.

“Oh,
you totally did,” Rudy told him.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

“Fucking
crabs.”

“Got
a smoke?”

“Rudy!”
Gerald said, “You don’t smoke.”

“Shut
up and watch last year, Dad.”

Rudy
and Skipp went to the garage.

When
they came back, the table was filled with food. Gerald was asleep on the couch.

“Let’s
just let him sleep,” Rudy said. “He’s had a big day for an old guy.”

Outside,
more explosions rocked the house. Something landed on the roof with a thud.

Rainey
called them to dinner.

On
the TV, she did the same.

Rudy
stood at the head of the table and carved the turkey and ham.

Skipp
sat facing out the window. He noticed the Assholes’ house was on fire.

Staci
looked up at her dad. She said, “This is all so gross. I’m not eating. Skipp
still has crab guts in his hair.” “Do not.”

“You do
too, you fucking gimp. Learn how to wash.” “Are you kidding? We’re all covered
in crab-soot.”

She
stuck her tongue out at him. It looked very pink against her blackened lips.

Rudy
put a piece of turkey on her plate.

Rainey
said, “Ruuuuudy.”

“It’s
Christmas,” he said.

A
limousine crashed through the living room. It broke through the wall,
scattering pieces of building material, ornamentation, and furniture. The TV
flew into the still-sleeping Gerald and crushed him to death. Two plywood candy
canes still lit with Christmas lights whipped through the room like shuriken
and stuck in the wall above the table—blinking.

A
chair tumbled across the dining room, wiping out everyone’s plates, and nearly
taking off Rudy’s head. He dodged the chair and smiled triumphantly at the car
rocking in the settling dust.

The
cat sprang from under the tree remains, bounded over the long trunk of the car,
and launched from its TV antenna, soaring through the hole left by the car, and
into the snow. They heard the cat hiss as she ran off.

Rudy
gathered up his family as they staggered from around the shattered table.
“Kids, Rainey, I’ve got a very special Christmas surprise for you.” He walked
them toward the limo.

The
driver got out smiling and opened the door for them, kicking aside some couch
cushions and bricks. Crabs clamored to get into the hole in the wall, but the
car blocked them. They tore at the wall and the limo, screaming. A laser beam
blasted into the chandelier, dropping it onto the table in a burst of sparks.

More
crabs gathered in the yard. They scratched at the walls and crowded around the
hole, picking at drywall and brick. Lasers started blasting through the room,
cutting the walls to pieces and knocking chunks of the ceiling free.

Rudy
helped his family into the car. He tossed the shotguns in to Skipp. Rudy paused
before he got in and said to the driver, “Thanks for coming early!”

“No
problem, Mr. Olen. I wasn’t doing anything but driving around avoiding these
giant crabs, anyway. I was glad to get your call.”

Something
exploded upstairs.

Dust
and smoke billowed through the room. The lasers made it look like a disco.

The
happy driver closed the door, scrambled over the hood, and got in the car.

He
drove into the crabs trying to get into the house, smiling back at the family.
The crabs beat at the limo as it smashed into them. The car pinned one crab
against a tree and crushed it. Another aimed its laser at them, but the driver
peeled out straight for the huge crustacean, and it jumped into the air, firing
crazily into the Asshole’s burning house. Other crabs scampered into the
house, eating Gerald, the ham, and the turkey.

The
limo driver announced, “Merry Christmas, Olen family! Welcome to your vacation.
First stop, the airport. I hope you have a wonderful trip.”

Rudy
smiled at the driver and then to his family. “I’m sure we will,” he said, “I’m
sure we will.”

Rainey
smiled tentatively.

“Kids,”
Rudy asked, his eyes focused far away in some fantastic future, “what do you
think about a cruise around the world?”

Skipp
and Staci shrugged at each other.

“Oh,
Rudy,” Rainey said.

The
Olens watched out the windows. Laser bursts lit the air around them. Crabs slid
across the ice, chasing down families and eating them.

Rudy
poured a hot chocolate and rum from the bar for everyone. He looked adoringly
at his bedraggled family.