Chapter 14

1702 Serenity Lane

As Zeus was tripping over the sprinkler in the backyard of the home, going from the empty house where they'd done the sniping to the rental home, two spies were inside, looking out the front window. If they had been looking out the back, this story might have had a different outcome.

Jimmy and Carl were six and eight years old. This year, for sure, they were going to catch Santa. All the lights in the living room were off, and they were peeking out the front windows waiting to catch Santa when he put his big bags on the porch. The house didn't have a chimney, and the family hadn't had enough time to set up the full Christmas tree. They'd just gotten there at dinner time. There was a small artificial tree – white with tinsel all over it – on the kitchen table. So Santa was just going to have to leave his bags on the front porch. Mom said that's what he did when families were at a different house at Christmas. They had a chimney in their real home in Atlanta, but there was no chimney here.

Andy and Simone Camerota had sent everybody to bed at 11:00, with admonitions not to stay up and try to catch Santa. "Everybody knows, you can't see Santa. Nobody ever has," Andy said. They left the boys in their room and turned to go to bed, with a warm smile for each other. Another successful Christmas.

Jimmy and Carl didn't know that Santa had already come – he left bags of presents on the back patio, near the door. Big bags, with lots of presents. It was a chore to hide them in the trunk of the car for the ride down from Atlanta, but the kids weren't that inquisitive.

At 1:30 a.m. or so, Carl nudged Jimmy. "There's some guys on the lawn of the house across there," he said, pointing. "And they all flopped down, like they're dead. You stay here and watch. I'm going to get Mom."

And he tore off down the hall, up the stairs noisily, opening the door to Mom and Dad's bedroom. "Mom! Mom! Mom! Wake up! Mom! Mom!" and he began tugging at her arm.

Simone cracked an eye at the clock. 1:35. "It's too early, Carl. Go back to bed."

"Mom! Mom! Wake up! Something's across the street! There's dead bodies! You gotta see it! MOM!"

Andy was awake by now. Both he and Simone were struggling out of bed, they grabbed robes, and staggered into the living room. Dead bodies? HUH? They expected that the boys had discovered Santa's stash.

Jimmy was staring out the front windows, his head under the sheer window drape. "Nobody's moved," he said.

Carl dragged his father to the windows. They lifted the filmy, translucent drapes and looked out at the scene across the street. "There's guys all over the place. Me and Carl were just lookin' out for Santa. Then these guys show up. Then the guys fell over with no sounds. They fell over like zombies or something. Are they dead, dad? Do you think they're zombies?"

"It could be like wrestling, Carly," Jimmy said, excited by the different kind of event. Zombies! "You know. Like the Mexican Gorilla. He fell over three times last week, and ev'rbody thought he was dead. But then he came back and won. He beat the Mad Samoan, somethin' ter'ble. Prolly they're like wrestlers. Fall over dead, then BOOM, come back ... See? What I tell ya? The guy on the porch is dragging himself over to the door. And pounding on it." In hushed tones: "He's a zombie!"

Andy didn't think it was like wrestlers. Or zombies. He was on the phone to 9-1-1.

When he got back to the window, the guy on the porch was inside and there was a woman, holding a gun, crouching on the porch.

The Sanibel Island police arrived just four minutes later. No sirens, no lights. Two cars and two policemen. They took one look at the scene and drew their service pistols. There was some conversation between them and the woman on the porch who would not lower her gun. She did, however, point it down the street and not at the officers -- no sense provoking any friend-on-friend shooting.

About twenty minutes later, one more local police car showed up, marked Chief of Police. It was shortly followed by two state police cars and a black SUV from which emerged four people wearing windbreakers with 'FBI' written across the front and back in big yellow letters.

The boys were beside themselves with excitement. FBI! Policemen! Zombies! This was the bestest Christmas ever!!

Andy went back to his bedroom to put on sweatpants – he normally slept in just his undershorts. Then he turned on the porch light and stepped out on the porch.