Zombie survivor

[104] Christmas eve

The mansion had come a long way since the squad first moved in. The dust and grime had been cleared, the broken furniture either repaired or tossed, and the rooms were now claimed and personalized. It was still a far cry from the luxury it once boasted, but it was theirs. And tonight, as the first snow began to fall outside, it felt more alive than ever.

The faint scent of pine filled the air from a scraggly Christmas tree they had found abandoned in a lot nearby. It was crooked and missing branches, but Jean had insisted it was perfect. The group had spent the last few hours decorating it with whatever they could scavenge—bits of shiny foil, buttons, and even bottle caps strung together like garlands. At the top sat a bent soda can, crimped into the rough shape of a star.

"Man, this tree is jank as fuck," Jordan said, hands on his hips as he stared at their handiwork. "But it's got personality."

"It's not jank," Brittany shot back, adjusting one of the makeshift garlands. "It's... minimalist chic."

"Yeah, sure," Tyler muttered, holding up a cracked mirror fragment he'd found. "You wanna add this? It's like a post-apocalypse ornament."

Chloe rolled her eyes, folding her arms. "Just hang the damn thing, Tyler. And stop being weird about it."

Tyler smirked but obeyed, carefully placing the shard near the top of the tree. "There. Now it's got my touch of genius."

"Touch of cringe," Chloe muttered, though a small smile tugged at her lips.

The living room was warm and lively, a stark contrast to the chill creeping in from the outside. They had strung up strings of battery-powered fairy lights scavenged from a nearby store, their soft glow reflecting off the polished wooden floors. Someone had taped up red and green paper cutouts along the walls—haphazard, mismatched snowflakes and stars that added to the room's patchwork charm.

The first snowflakes began to drift down, visible through the cracked windows. Jean stood by the largest window, his breath fogging the glass as he stared out at the falling snow. Akira stood quietly beside him, her hands clasped in front of her.

"It's the first snow," Jean said softly, his voice almost lost in the chatter behind them.

Akira tilted her head, her expression serene. "It's... beautiful," she murmured. "Do you think it was like this before? Peaceful?"

Jean nodded, his eyes distant. "Yeah. It was."

"Well, it's fucking cold now," Brad said loudly from behind, carrying a tray of canned food they'd worked hard to make palatable. "Snow looks nice, but it's a bitch to deal with."

"Spoken like a true Scrooge," Blake said, adjusting his oversized sweater as he placed a dented thermos of lukewarm coffee on the makeshift dining table. "Let people enjoy things, Brad."

"I'll enjoy it when I'm not freezing my ass off," Brad shot back, smirking as he dropped the tray onto the table with a loud clatter.

The food was a mix of scavenged cans and dried rations, but Chloe and Brittany had worked hard to make it festive. Cans of green beans and corn were poured into mismatched bowls, while a slightly burned loaf of bread sat on a chipped plate. Someone had managed to find a jar of cranberry sauce, and it sat proudly in the middle of the table, a reminder of the holidays they were trying to recreate.

"This is the saddest Christmas spread I've ever seen," Jordan said, picking up a fork and poking at the green beans.

"Shut up, Jordan," Chloe snapped, pointing a wooden spoon at him. "It's the best we've got. Be grateful."

"I am grateful," he said quickly, raising his hands in surrender. "Grateful for this... Michelin-star zombie feast."

Brittany let out a dramatic sigh. "I can't believe I'm spending Christmas eating canned corn."

"Better than not spending it at all," Garrett said gruffly as he pulled up a chair. His words silenced the room, a reminder of how fragile their existence had become.

Evan broke the silence, holding up a dented can of soda he had been saving for the occasion. "Okay, so, like, can we toast or something? Isn't that a thing people do?"

Blake nodded, raising his own mug of weak coffee. "A toast sounds good."

Jean turned away from the window and joined the group, his expression thoughtful. He picked up a chipped cup of water and held it up. "To Trev," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of their loss. "And to us. For making it this far."

The group fell silent for a moment before echoing, "To Trev," their voices soft but heartfelt. They clinked their mismatched cups together, the sound faint but comforting.

As they sat down to eat, the chatter picked up again, lighthearted and full of warmth despite the grim reality outside.

"I still say we should've decorated the chandelier," Tyler said, gesturing toward the massive fixture above them. "That thing's, like, begging to be turned into a Christmas centerpiece."

"Yeah, if you wanna die falling off a ladder," Brad shot back, shoving a piece of bread into his mouth.

"You wouldn't die," Tyler argued. "You'd just, like... break a leg or something."

"Shut up, Tyler," Chloe said, rolling her eyes. "The tree is fine. Let's not push our luck."

"You know what we're missing?" Jordan said around a mouthful of food. "Christmas music. We need some jams up in here."

"Unless you've got a battery-powered speaker and Spotify, good luck," Blake said, shaking his head.

"I could sing," Brittany offered, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder. "I used to get, like, a thousand likes every time I posted a cover."

"Please don't," Chloe groaned, earning a laugh from the group.

As the evening wore on, the snow outside thickened, blanketing the world in a serene white layer. The group's laughter and banter filled the mansion, a stark contrast to the silence that had once defined it. They weren't just surviving anymore—they were living, even if only for a moment.

Jean leaned back in his chair, a rare smile on his face as he watched the group. "You know," he said, his voice soft, "this is the first time in a long time it's felt... normal."

"It's not normal," Akira said quietly, sitting beside him. "But it's something."

Jean nodded, his gaze drifting back to the snow-covered world outside. "Yeah. It's something."

And for that night, that something was enough.

Q: How do you celebrate Christmas eve?