Max Brallier - The Last Kids on Earth and the Cosmic Beyond

Oh, real quick – our hammock is not a regular hammock. It’s a monster winter hammock and it’s kind of the best.

See, after the temperature dropped we discovered that one monster – Kylnn – constantly radiates heat. His whole body feels like some sort of living fireplace!

So I, being a napping expert , grabbed a hammock from the local Home Depot and strung it up. I suspended it from Kylnn’s biggest back spikes. I’m pretty sure I have created the single most snuggly sleeping spot on planet Earth.

I sit down next to June. We lie there for a bit, just quietly looking up at a cloudy blue sky.

‘You OK, buddy?’ I finally ask.

June shrugs and pushes off from a spike, swinging us out. ‘It’s just all this winter stuff. It reminds me of – y’know – Christmas . It’s got me thinking about last year’s Christmas. Normal Christmas .’

June shoots me a look. Oh right. I forgot. She doesn’t love the ‘monster-zombie-crossbow-filled adventure-scape’ the same way I do.

June continues. ‘When we were getting ready to set out on our road trip for New York, I had this idea. I’m sure it was just a total pipe dream of a hope – but I thought we might get to New York. And find my family. And in time for Christmas. Then I could celebrate Christmas, for real. But I guess not . . .’

I’m not sure what to say. See, I was an orphan, never had a real family. When the world went to the monsters, my foster family of the month fled. Here, with my buddies and our monster community, I finally feel like I do have a family. But for my human friends – it’s the opposite.

Sometimes I forget that the gung-ho happiness that comes so easy to me is way harder for everyone else. And I can’t keep forgetting that.

It’s not right.

It’s not being a good friend.

And being a post-apocalyptic monster-battling tornado of wannabe cool – that stuff’s great, that stuff’s important. But it’s not even a fraction as important as being a solid buddy. And that’s what June needs right now.

Then it hits me. Two birds, one stone!

I sit up and grab June by the shoulders. ‘June, I can’t give you that classic family Christmas – but together we CAN have our own totally original joy-missile of a Christmas with just our best buddies in the world! We can make up our own new traditions! Like Christmas fireworks – aren’t those the best?’

‘Christmas fireworks aren’t a thing, Jack.’

‘THEY ARE NOW!’ I say. ‘Also, Christmas pie-eating contests! June, this is actually amazing . We have the chance to design our own awesome Christmas. Just as crazy, weird, and whatever as we want!’

June shifts in the hammock. She blows into her hands, thinking. ‘And you know what – since Christmas is the best . . .’

I smile and nod. ‘If there’s one thing that can convince the monsters that winter is A-OK, it’s Christmas!’

‘Boom,’ June says. ‘Seal it with a fist bump.’

We walk back to the tree house. At the ladder, June suddenly stops. She looks deep into my eyes. I’m wondering if this might be sort of a romantic moment or something, but instead . . .

‘You’ve got your Louisville Slicer, and you love it!’ June says. ‘I want to feel that sort of love for a monster-battling weapon.’

It’s true.

My love for the Louisville Slicer is a once-in-a-lifetime love. I could write a song about it.

June deserves that sort of love!

That will be my Christmas gift to her. One post-apocalyptic monster-battling tool TO RULE THEM ALL!

And you know what else?

I have lost my love.

No. Worse. My love was stolen from me! It has fallen into the hands of an enemy! And that enemy is up to something .

I’m not just waiting around. I need to go and get it . I need to find out WHO this villain is. Because only then will I get what I want for Christmas . . .

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