Black Christmas

Chapter 8

Greg hears the old sleigh already running as he swings open the barn door and takes a look inside. A familiar face glaring back from under the hood of the sleigh is the first thing he sees.

"I knew you guys would come here next. Figured I'd get it running it for you."

Greg is confused but hopeful. "Jerry, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your family?"

"Do you remember when I said protecting my wife and kids was the top priority tonight?"

Greg nods.

"At this point, the only way I can do that is by helping you guys stop this bastard before he gets here. I've seen the news. I know what he's capable of. You need all the help you can get."

"Who's this?"

James turns to Brick and speaks the words everyone needs to hear. "If what I've heard about him checks out, this is Jerry. He's second in command now." He shakes Jerry's hand as the two men nod in agreement.

Greg looks at Jerry, then at the other men. "Well, if this is the crew, then we'd better get going. Let's hit California before he does."

***

"So, do we have a plan, boss?"

Greg almost enjoys hearing the way Alan refers to him as "boss." Under any other circumstance he might even smile. "We keep it simple. Find a house with a nice family. Camp out. Kill the murderer when he gets there, and he won't know what hit him."

He looks at Jerry and James now. The two have been discussing tactics for the last twenty minutes of the ride, almost as co-righthand men.

"Am I missing anything guys?"

Jerry looks at Greg but speaks to all. "Keeping it simple. You're right. It sounds good."

James chimes in next. "We're not professionals. The more complicated our plan, the more room that is left for mistakes. You're as right as you can be, Greg."

"Then that's it, guys. We get in, do the job, get out. Don't get the cops on our asses, don't draw attention. We take the body, and it's all over. We can do this."

With the plan down and no desire to overcomplicate things, the other elves sit in silence. Not even Brick and Bailey's unintelligent input is given. The task force sits on the sleigh benches, cleaning rifles and sharpening swords.

As the tasks dwindle, the nervous ticks set in again. Greg looks around at nail biting, leg shaking, and finger tapping. He looks down to find himself doing the same thing. He wonders if he should make another speech, but right now he concentrates on keeping himself sane.

Eric looks back from the driver's seat. "We're about to touch down, boys. Get ready."