As he walked through the halls, Elder Rivers had realized that in spite of the obvious signs of damage, there was no blood anywhere. It was almost as though people made an organized effort to have everything lifted off the shelves before taking off. Elder Rivers had calculated, however, that not many of these people made it very far. That is, if the horde of zombies waiting just outside the broken automatic doors were any indicator.

With his mind occupied with other things, Elder Rivers had blindly followed Santa. He was too distracted with what happened to be cautious of anything attacking. If something did attack, he was doomed. The last thing he could do was die an honorable death, the way his partner would have wanted. The Mormon would be loyal to his church to death. Then, God would give Rivers his own planet for all the wives he was too young to marry before he died.

Before he knew it though, Santa had stopped. "What is it?" Elder RIvers asked. "What's wrong?" Then he realized it. Before them was a car. Elder Rivers wondered why, of all things, the car wasn't stolen amongst the chaos. Nonetheless, it seemed that Santa wanted to make the car his getaway vehicle- or rather his sleigh. Elder Rivers nodded to communicate his understanding.

He crawled under the roped and opened the driver's seat door, which swung open without much effort. Alas, there was no key inside.