Free A Zombie Christmas Carol by Michael G. Thomas; Charles Dickens

let loose waves of hair, an inch of which would be a keepsake beyond price: in short, I should have liked, I do confess, to have had the lightest licence of a child, and yet to have been man enough to know its value.
    But now a knocking at the door was heard, and such a rush immediately ensued that she with laughing face and plundered dress was borne towards it the centre of a flushed and boisterous group, just in time to greet the father, who came home attended by a man laden with Christmas toys and presents. Then the shouting and the struggling, and the onslaught that was made on the defenceless porter! The scaling him with chairs for ladders to dive into his pockets, despoil him of brown-paper parcels, hold on tight by his cravat, hug him round his neck, pommel his back, and kick his legs in irrepressible affection! The shouts of wonder and delight with which the development of every package was received! The terrible announcement that the baby had been taken in the act of putting a doll’s frying-pan into his mouth, and was more than suspected of having swallowed a fictitious turkey, glued on a wooden platter! The immense relief of finding this a false alarm! The joy, and gratitude, and ecstasy! They are all indescribable alike. It is enough that by degrees the children and their emotions got out of the parlour, and by one stair at a time, up to the top of the house; where they went to bed, and so subsided.
    And now Scrooge looked on more attentively than ever, when the master of the house, having his daughter leaning fondly on him, sat down with her and her mother at his own fireside; and when he thought that such another creature, quite as graceful and as full of promise, might have called him father, and been a spring-time in the haggard winter of his life, his sight grew very dim indeed.
    “Belle,” said the husband, turning to his wife with a smile, “I saw an old friend of yours this afternoon.”
    “Who was it?”
    “Guess!”
    “How can I? Tut, don’t I know?” she added in the same breath, laughing as he laughed. “Mr. Scrooge.”
    “Mr. Scrooge it was. I passed his office window; and as it was not shut up, and he had a candle inside, I could scarcely help seeing him. His partner, I do not know his name, had been killed in the violence in the city. I considered going inside but it was so dark and miserable and there he sat alone. Quite alone in the world, I do believe. Many of the buildings nearby are empty, I fear their occupants were killed by the creatures or, and I sincerely hope this, they may have simply abandoned them, perhaps in the hope of returning soon.”
    “Spirit!” said Scrooge in a broken voice, “remove me from this place.”
    “I told you these were shadows of the things that have been,” said the Ghost. “That they are what they are, do not blame me!”
    “Remove me!” Scrooge exclaimed, “I cannot bear it!”
    The ground shook and darkened around the group before they were replaced by the dark wall of some building.  Scrooge at first assumed he was back at home until he recognised Marley, exactly as he had been seven years ago. 
    “No, not this!” exclaimed Scrooge as he looked feverishly from left to right.
    “Why do you recoil from the sight of your old partner?  Are you not joyful to see him once again and in such good health?” asked the Spirit.
    “Of course not!” answered Scrooge with barely concealed anger. “His death wasn’t my fault, how could it be?” he cried.
    “Yet you show regret and remorse over this place.  Watch!” said the Spirit, as it stretched out its arms towards a slightly younger Scrooge and Marley in the Bank.
      The two men were making their way out of the Bank when a great cry came from the street outside.  As Scrooge and the Spirit moved out into the open, they could both clearly see the front of a massive crowd coming up the hill.  In front of the crowd were small numbers of panicked citizens, some carrying children and others