‘Twas the night before Christmas and throughout the base,
The runners were sleeping (headsets on, just in case).
Sam Yao was dozing, in the silent comms shack,
In case any zoms went on the attack.
Outside in the night, the cold white flakes swirled,
Adding a layer of snow to the end of the world.
A loud BANG from outside startled Sam from his chair,
His frightened gasp puffed out white in the cold winter air.
He slunk to the door and pulled it open, just a crack,
Ready to give any undeads a whack.
But the strange sight before Sam gave him reason to pause,
No zombies outside but instead…Santa Claus.
Sam watched through the crack as Saint Nick walked around,
Leaving some rather unusual gifts on the ground.
For Five, some new trainers;
Nice rifles for Eight.
Jack and Eugene got new mics in a crate.
Santa walked all over Abel, emptying his pack,
And when he finished, he came to the comms shack.
He smiled at Sam; their eyes finally met,
And in his hands he held a brand-new scanner set.
“Merry Christmas, Sam Yao,” said Santa to him.
“You keep them all safe, even when things look grim.”
Sam took the gift and nodded his head.
“Of course, Santa; someone’s gotta keep watch on the dead.”
Saint Nick smiled, and walked off into the night,
And Sam returned to his chair feeling rather bright.
As he watched the screens, he heard Santa exclaim,
“Happy Christmas to Abel! And all survivors, the same!”