Zombie survivor

[105] Gifts

The mansion was quiet as the first rays of sunlight filtered through the cracked windows, casting long beams across the living room. The scraggly Christmas tree stood proudly in the center of the room, its makeshift ornaments glinting faintly in the morning light. The battery-powered fairy lights they'd strung around it flickered weakly, but they were enough to add a sense of magic to the scene.

One by one, the group trickled in, yawning and stretching as they shuffled toward the tree. The night before had been the most peaceful they'd had in ages, but the excitement of the morning had them buzzing.

"Alright, bitches," Jordan said, rubbing his hands together as he flopped onto the couch. "Let's see what Santa brought us."

"Santa didn't bring shit," Brad muttered, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "We brought this stuff ourselves, remember?"

"Way to kill the vibe, Brad," Brittany said, rolling her eyes as she adjusted her oversized sweater. "It's Christmas. Try acting like you have a soul."

"Okay, okay," Jean said, stepping into the room with Akira trailing close behind. His voice was calm, but a small smile tugged at his lips. "Let's just enjoy this, alright? We worked hard to make this happen."

The group gathered around the tree, their breath fogging in the cold air. Each person had a small, crudely wrapped package in front of them—scraps of paper, fabric, or even newspaper held together with bits of string or tape. The gifts were meager, scavenged or handmade, but they were more than anyone had expected.

"I can't believe we actually did this," Chloe said, plopping onto the floor and pulling her knees to her chest. "I thought the whole 'gift' thing was dead, like everything else."

"Same," Evan said, staring at the pile of packages. "I mean, it's not exactly Black Friday, but it's still kinda... nice."

"Alright, who's first?" Blake asked, adjusting his glasses as he settled into a chair. "We doing this in order, or what?"

"Random, obviously," Tyler said, reaching for a package. "This one's mine—"

"Don't be a dick," Chloe snapped, swatting his hand away. "Wait your turn."

"Fine," Tyler grumbled, sitting back with a huff.

Jean reached forward, picking up a package wrapped in old comic book pages. "Let's just start. This one's for Chloe," he said, handing it to her.

Chloe blinked, looking surprised. "For me? Who's it from?"

"Me," Evan said, looking sheepish. "I mean, it's not, like, super great or anything, but... yeah."

Chloe carefully unwrapped the package, her expression shifting from curiosity to mild amusement as she pulled out a small, slightly tarnished makeup compact. The mirror inside was cracked, but it was otherwise intact.

"It's not much," Evan said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I found it at that store last week and thought, you know, you might like it."

Chloe stared at the compact for a moment before giving a small, genuine smile. "Thanks, Evan. It's... nice. Really."

Evan's face lit up, and he looked like he might explode from relief. "Cool! Uh, glad you like it."

"Alright, my turn!" Jordan said, grabbing a package wrapped in a piece of an old shirt. "Let's see what we've got here."

"Careful," Akira said softly. "That one's from me."

Jordan tore into the package with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning, pulling out a small, handmade charm bracelet. The beads were mismatched, some chipped, but the effort was obvious.

"Yo, this is sick," Jordan said, grinning as he slipped it onto his wrist. "Now I can flex on all the zombies."

Akira tilted her head, her lips curling into a small smile. "I'm glad you like it."

"Okay, my turn," Brittany announced, grabbing a box wrapped in what looked like an old map. "Who's this from?"

"Me," Brad said, shrugging. "Don't get too excited."

Brittany opened the box, revealing a pair of sunglasses with only one lens intact. She stared at them for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"Seriously?" she said, holding them up. "You got me broken sunglasses?"

"They're not broken," Brad said defensively. "They're... post-apocalyptic chic or whatever. You can still wear them."

"Fine," Brittany said, slipping them on. "How do I look?"

"Like a pirate," Tyler said, earning a glare from her.

The gifts continued, each package revealing something small but meaningful: a hand-carved wooden figurine from Jean to Akira, a makeshift slingshot from Garrett to Tyler, a worn but intact book of poetry from Blake to Brittany. Each gift carried a story, a moment of effort that brought them all closer together.

When it was finally Garrett's turn, he opened a box from Chloe containing a flask filled with what they all suspected was the last of her hidden stash of whiskey. He nodded in approval, his expression softening just a fraction.

"Not bad, kid," he said, tucking the flask into his jacket.

As the last of the gifts were opened, the group sat around the tree, the room filled with the sound of faint laughter and lighthearted teasing. For a moment, the harshness of their reality felt distant, replaced by the warmth of their shared camaraderie.

"This wasn't half bad," Brad admitted, leaning back against the wall. "Guess Christmas isn't as dead as I thought."

"It's not dead," Jean said, his voice quiet but firm. "It's just different."

"Different's fine," Chloe said, examining her compact. "As long as we still have it."

Q: What did you get for Christmas?