6th day of Christmas: Mall Escape
By Sir Wintrust - Published 2019-12-18
We sprung into action, and leaped towards the throne. His bodyguards tried to stop us, but we acted with enough speed. We had a few moments before they would get to us. We grabbed the oversized monstrosity and we started to run. We hoisted him upon our shoulders, and collectively, we had a good hold on him. Many of the elves left their posts and tried to stop us , but they were not strong enough. We pushed our way back past the line, with many elves hot on our tails. We jumped over presents, wrapped with bows. We knocked down candy canes behind us to try and slow us down. We grabbed an oversized Christmas ornament and we chucked it in our wake. The loud crash and shards of plastic finally deterred our original persuiters. We ran across the central area of the mall, when we encountered a heavy resistance in the form of a mall cop on a segway. He was telling us to put down the mall Santa. We did not. We sped past him, using an improvised smoke grenade to obfuscate our movements. We charged past him and towards the exit, but he had expected our ploy and he was now waiting for us at the exit. We saw the warm sunlight outside the mall, and we knew that if we wanted to get our well-earned getaway, we would have to go through the mall cop. We placed down the Mall santa, his hands bound with christmas lights and Tinsel. We split into small groups. The first grabbed gardening supplies and ran a direct assault. The first blow was countered with a baton, the second was dodged. The mall cop responded with handcuffs and his taser, they were very effective. During this time, a left flank formed, charging into him with a shopping cart. He dodged the attack and he radioed for backup. They now knew where we are and the element of stealth was lost. We had limited time before we would be outnumbered. A hero emerged in the right flank. Gerald Fitz drew a gain flower pot and he finally dispatched the mall cop. He was sent to the floor. We used his keys to unlock our handcuffed friends and handcuffed the mall cop to a pillar. With nothing in the way of the exit, we charged through the electric doors and through the veil of sunlight they projected.
We emerged to the sound of the city; The honking of cars and the distant wails of emergency vehicles were the backdrop to our escape. Our original plan involved finding Santa’s sleigh and riding that to our headquarters, but for whatever reason it could not be found. Time was ticking and we needed a new method of escape. We could not go far carrying our prize on foot. We saw the cars on display inside of the mall, and the plan came together. Mounting our new “acquisition” we revved the engine and charged towards the entrance doors. We dramatically burst through the door and once again emerged into the city, but this time, we were on the move. With our entire writing staff and Santa Clause in one car, we were packed. We stopped for Gerald Fitz to dig up his supply of explosives as we started to leave the parking lot. We barreled towards the exit of the lot before we encountered a literal and metaphorical roadblock. They had closed the gate. We backed up and sped up across the lot. 10mph, 20 mph, 40 mph,60 mph, 80mph, 88mph. We collided with the gate and entered the highway, going 90 mph away from the compound. We thought our escape was inevitable, but then we heard the sounds of sirens.
Our serene victory was shattered by the sounds of sirens on our trail. We were being followed by a small armada of cars. It seems our captured spirit had friends in the police and local governments. We had several cars on our tail. We dropped spikes out of our trunk. A few of the cars had to weave to avoid them, and most had at least a few tires punctured. We were about to start firing paint at the windshield when we heard the sounds of a rotor overhead. A police helicopter has now joined the chase. We did not have the firepower to defeat the helicopter. Our car did not have enough jet engines to outrun their air support, so we decided to turn off of the freeway, and headed towards a safe house. If we made it, we could resupply ourselves with more weapons, switch vehicles, hold defence, or try to run on foot through the conveniently nearby dense forest. We decelerated and dived off the freeway. We were ducking and weaving between sets of cars, bikes and motorcycles. We had a few close calls, especially with a grandma and accompanying boy-scout troops. We watched helplessly as our tin can went flying rapidly across the street. It recklessly passed through the streets. We watched a blur of run down shops and abandoned malls. It was an unending flurry of cheat fast food joints and retail buildings. A congealed mass of liquor and gun stores. Every road felt the same, decrepit and full of stories long since forgotten. They were towns progress had left behind, people who have been left behind by the wheels of change. The focus of the nation avoids therese shadowed roads and the people gaze does not stare upon these hallowed halls. The only thing that broke the natural serenity was the several hundred police cars, hot on our trails
We tried to lose them, we knew that they could not have chased us forever, and we were able to outlast the most of them. We were able to do in-motion refueling with a pair of backup oil canisters. We exited the town and headed down the plains. The cars behind us were not part of the original chase, those had given up a long time ago. We deployed the last of our road spikes and smoke pods before ducking into the endless fields. We watched behind the car in agony, waiting for any signs that we were followed. In the end, we got away, and had made it to our Safehouse. We gazed upon its tattered exterior, laced with rot and decay. It was a two story brick as old as the union and as unstable as Gerald Fitz. It sat on the edge of a clearing. It had a good location and a mediocre garage, but the kitchen needed work, and we didn’t like it not being open concept. For now, we were safe. We could not rest for too long, as they were bound to eventually find our hideout. It doesn’t help that it has big, neon letters above it advertising its status as a safehouse. For what we were concerned we had three options. We could try to run on foot, but Santa would slow us down, and inevitably we would be caught. We could try to hold up here, but it was not defencible enough to face long siege, and we only had a week’s worth of ammunition. Luckily, there was a backup car, which no one would suspect we own. It was a blue Fiat 124 Spider. It was custom made for our group, having been extended, similar to a limousine. It had enough space for our entire crew to sit comfortably and work logistics. It had storage abound and single handedly had enough resources to last us for two weeks, three weeks if we ration well. If under siege, it was well defensible, being bulletproof and explosion-proof remarkably explosion resistant. It had a near limitless supply of anti-vehicle traps and measures that can be taken to deter pursuit from an oil slick, paintball guns, road spikes and only the most high-tech of technologies.. The whole thing was a frankensteinian mess of spare parts and scrap metal, simultaneously over-designed and under-designed but it would do our purposes nicely. We loaded in then charged down the road. We embarked for a secret cave only known to our writing staff, and to anyone who has ever heard of it. We pulled up next to it and made camp.
