Page 98 of Run, Run Rudolph
Still. We didn’t want to give him a second thing to hold over Haden.
Carefully, I opened the bow and arrow package, knowing I shouldn’t. But having recently and, very narrowly, escaped death made messing with unpurchased products feel tame in comparison. And I had to do something with all this amped up fight-or-flight energy I had coursing through me.
I crouched behind a display case with the bow drawn back, arrow poised to get Haden when he returned. I shifted, the backs of my knees starting to feel weird, as if I was cutting off the circulation to my lower legs. Crab-crawling to a different spot, I stretched out, rolling onto a hip and elbow to peer around a shelf corner to watch for Haden.
This was boring. How did hunters sit in their blinds for hours?
I rolled onto my back and sighed. Using the bow, I poked at the items on the shelf beside me.
“Well, look what we have here,” I muttered. Night vision goggles. Toy ones, so probably not the high-end ones from the locked case that Haden was hoping to put on the reindeer, but still, they might be better than nothing if Haden couldn’t get at the others.
Convincing myself that I was merely testing out the product we planned to purchase, I opened the package, slipping a pair out of the box and over my head. I gasped as my vision changed. This was just as cool as in the movies.
Armed again with my bow and arrow, I got to my feet and crept forward, standing behind a rack of insulated camouflage jackets.
“Done,” Haden called out from somewhere deep inside the store. “And I scheduled a text to go out to him at six, too.” He still hadn’t turned on the harsh overhead lights, and I waited for a green blob—Haden—to appear in my vision.
And there he was. Barely able to hold in the giggle, I pulled back the bow’s string and struck.
The toy wasn’t very robust, and the suction cup feebly grazed Haden’s shoulder before falling to the floor.
“What the…?”
“Got you!” I called triumphantly, my fears and worries that had followed me all night dissolving.
“Where are you?”
I stepped out from behind the rack.
“Are you wearing night vision goggles?”
“Toy ones. I thought we should test them.”
He stooped, picking up the arrow. “And this?”
“Also testing,” I said seriously. “We don’t want Little Johnny getting a crappy gift this Christmas.”
“And who is Little Johnny?” he asked, amusement tingeing his voice as he set the arrow on top of the display case he was unlocking.
I leaned over the case filled with tech. “Think we should test these ones, too? After all, Christmas is on the line. If the holiday fails tonight, it might disappear forever.”
I shivered at the thought. Christmas with my Oma meant everything to me. Was it possible Christmas could disappear if we didn’t fix things? Could the implications be that massive?
I cleared my throat, trying to keep things light despite the sudden heavy foreboding weighing me down. “So, we’d better be careful about our selection.”
There were several different brands inside, and Haden stacked a couple of sets on the glass counter. “I don’t want to abuse my privileges.”
“Of course not,” I said as I watched him open a box, adjusting the strap before putting on the night vision goggles. His jaw softened as he let out a soft gasp.
I couldn’t help but smile at his sense of wonder.
“Cool, right?”
He cautiously moved his head from left to right, taking in the room. “We should turn off the security lights.”
“On it.” I hurried toward the back of the store, looking for the few lights that stayed on twenty-four-seven. “Where are the switches?”
“I got ‘em,” he called from my left, and we were immediately plunged into darkness. Ambient light from the streetlights outside filtered in, giving the goggles enough light to work with. Crisper forms than before emerged, letting me see the room.
