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The thing in the Santa suit might have been Tony – it was hard to tell. It was a lot thinner than Gus remembered Tony, and its face was corroding, if not eroding, away. Coincidentally, the same thing would happen to Tony’s cut-outs if he let them sit out there until Easter after the trees were all gone, which was sometimes the case. The weather would have its way with them, eating at the board and paint until the soggy figures were a sinister collection of unrecognizable lepers doomed to the same kind of treatment their human counterparts received throughout history. Kids who threw snowballs at them before Christmas threw slushballs at them a month later, and finally were content to just push them over and run away.

Foley told Gus about the social history of Tony’s Woods sometimes when he talked about his childhood in late-night conversations when they relaxed together. He said he always half-expected the cut-outs to still be there for Halloween, which was well on its way to becoming the second-most-merchandised holiday (of sorts) in the US until the Plague struck. If Tony kept his figures standing there and altered the theme from peace and good will to fear and terror, he could have been the merchandising visionary who started putting fake tombstones and monsters on front lawns everywhere for trick-or-treaters. Ironically, it now looked like Halloween might triumph over Christmas by becoming the permanent state of affairs. The relevant merchandise didn’t even have to be marketed, anymore.

Foley used to say that Christmas was the time of year when you should scare people, not Halloween, and he was right for most of the holidays’ histories. People once felt a need to include a lot of the negative in the tradition to help enhance the positive. It’s no accident that Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is a ghost story, or that some parts of it are so scary – it was one of hundreds, if not thousands, published seasonally in old periodicals. There are even lyrical references to Christmas ghost stories in some of the favorite holiday songs.

The Santa thing kept looking in Gus’s direction as it flailed its arms around and unsuccessfully tried to jerk itself from its trap. She already lost interest in its crazy arm, even though the waving was making it look like a twist-o-flex watchband. The things shuffling past on the street paid no attention to it or her, which was good – normal people would probably have tried to find out what the thing was looking at in the alley and trying so hard to get. If she wanted to case the street, though, she’d have to get awfully close to the manhole – within grabbing distance of the thing, in fact. Maybe it would be a good idea to wait a bit until it got tired.

Gus decided to go back down the alley and wait – maybe it would tire itself out or go back further down the hole if it couldn’t see her. She found what looked like a good hiding place between some garbage cans and boxes and sat down to wait. There were a bunch of loose, blown newspapers there. They were good insulation from the cold pavement, and maybe she could get under them if she ended up staying into the night. Maybe she should try to catch a nap – it was starting to get dark.

She was getting a little cold when she heard a trash can fall over down the alley. Something had to have collided with it for that to happen, and this was confirmed when she heard stumbling, shuffling feet approaching. If it was one of them, she’d have to move fast. She was hidden from either end of the alley, but anything walking past her would have to see her, and she could very easily find herself trapped.

She slowly stuck her head out to get a look. It looked a lot like Foley’s jacket, but the thing wearing it couldn’t be Foley. No way … but no matter – it looked like there was another one coming up from behind. The first one saw her, stared for a few seconds too long, then stuck its hands out and chased. She’d have to take her chances with the manhole Santa. If a couple of the things were walking up the alley now, there might be reinforcements right behind.

Gus neared the Santa thing and realized she’d be safe if she just hugged one of the walls – that should keep her just out of its reach and give her enough time to quickly eyeball the street and figure out where to run once she left the alley. She stared at it as she cautiously made her way past, but avoided looking at the face from this close. It sported a false beard that was matted with blood and flesh, like it was made out of roadkill, even though animals were never struck by vehicles anymore. She was only worried about the hands, and although they were coming close enough to create a swipe draft, they weren’t close enough to grab. She had maybe 15-20 seconds before the other alley things arrived.

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