"The phone is dead," Marie mumbled with a tone that sounded like she was just waking up.
"Uh-huh," Meg answered absently as she pawed the cabinets in the living room for a flashlight or candle. Feeling a way around a house you barely know in the dark and hunted by knee-high homicidal elves and killer toys wasn't her idea of fun. No wonder they had her on meds for six months.
"And they cut the power too," the maid continued. "How did they do that?"
"Does it matter?" Meg answered, more concerned with the current situation instead of how they got here. "We're in deep shit and unless you pull yourself together, we're dead meat."
"Why don't we just run for the front door?"
"Because they'll be expecting it," she answered again, surprised at how calm her voice sounded and how rattled the maid-from-hell was. It's easy to sound calm when you're scared beyond caring and jabbering wasn't going to help. "You wouldn't make it down five steps before they got you."
"So we just stay here in the dark and wait for help?"
"Help? What help?" Meg answered, slamming another drawer shut in frustration. She was tired of cutting her fingers on things and not finding anything she could use for light. Marie's voice had an irritating whine to it and she was not in the mood to listen to it. "Survive or die", Shimmer would have said and she agreed.
"Neighbors or maybe one of the deliverymen heard something," Marie answered, the fear adding an unusual timber to her voice.
"Look, there's a fifteen foot privacy wall on all sides including the front. Do you REALLY think anyone heard anything out there?" Meg asked. "And if someone did hear something, don't you think someone, maybe operatives or Shivers would have been here already?"
"Well, I don't know-"
"NO LADY, YOU DON'T DO YOU?" Meg yelled, her patience completely exhausted. "YOU DON'T KNOW A DAMN THING ABOUT ANYTHING. THAT INCLUDES ME, WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH, NOTHING!"
"I-" Marie started, but Meg was too angry and tired to stop. Her voice had risen to a yell that sounded remarkably like her Mother's.
"NO, YOU LIVE IN A SOFT, CUSHY WORLD OF SOAP OPERAS AND BON-BONS. PEOPLE DON 'T REALLY DIE IN YOUR WORLD, DO THEY?"
"Look, dear, I'm sorry that-"
"DON'T 'DEAR' ME, YOU FAT-ASS BITCH! I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK WHETHER OR NOT YOU'RE SORRY ABOUT ANYTHING!"
"There's no reason to-"
"THE HELL THERE ISN'T! YOU JUDGED ME BEFORE I EVEN SET FOOT HERE, YOU AND THE DAMN DOG!" she yelled. Meg could see the woman's large frame shuddering in the dark and she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a hiss. Somewhere around her feet, Archibald whimpered and tried to get her to pick him up. She stomped in front of him, but he kept at it and ensured he was in the way. Angrily, Meg reached down, snagged the furball by the jeweled collar and shoved him into Marie's arms.
"As far as I'm concerned, Santa Claws and his 'thingees' as you put it can just go ahead and gut the both of you. As for me, I'm going to survive."
"I-I-I-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Meg screeched, her anger having gotten the best of her. She would have hit the woman, but suddenly her hand found what felt like a flashlight and her ire was back in check. Saying a quick prayer, she flipped its on switch and a bright circle of white hit the ceiling. "Thank you God," she whispered.
"Uh-" Marie started again and Meg turned, pointing the light at her face and making her squint. The woman was standing and pointing towards the window where something was moving outside. Meg lowered the lamp and looked out shaking her head.
"No fucking way," she sneered.
Scores of tiny umbrellas floated down into the lawn, each with a small kicking and jingling package dangling beneath it. As they hit, the elves or doobries cut their straps, folded the umbrellas on their backs and formed groups along the line of shrubs.
Without waiting, Meg turned the lamp on again and walked over to the fireplace. It had all the features including fake gas powered logs and all the essentials, one of which she pulled off the rack. Weighing the poker in her hands, she gave it a good swing and nodded.
"This'll do until I find something better," she said. "You don't have a gun, do you?"
"I-I've got a cell phone," Marie said, suddenly looking hopeful. "It's in my purse."
"Where's your purse?"
"In my room. Just give me the flashlight and I'll-"
"No way, you're not taking the light or the poker," Meg snarled. "Let's go get it together."
"You don't trust me?"
Meg laughed more harshly than she meant. "No, but that's not the reason. We just need to stick together."
The two of them moved quietly down the hall, past the shattered washstand and down the side corridor that led to the maid's quarters. In the faint moonlight, the halls had a weird ethereal feel and the shadows seemed to be ebbing into physical form. Meg was as tense as she could be and made herself relax the grip on the poker because her hand was getting numb.
Marie fumbled with the keys to her quarters and finally got the door open, leading the way inside. It was exactly like Meg would have imagined, pristine, lonely, and without any real taste. Fortunately it only took a few moments for the maid to find her purse and pull her phone, but the look on her face only confirmed Meg's fears.
"No signal, right?" she asked and Marie nodded. "They did the same thing to us at BE-9. They cut the power, the com lines, and they jammed all the communications."
"What ARE they?" Marie asked, her eyes wide enough to show the whites in the narrow beam.
"They're Santa's little soldiers of course," she answered. "And it means he' s coming to town again."
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