Chapter 5 - The Fleet on 4th Street
At 11:45 PM, the quiet residential blocks of South 4th Street were silent under the falling snow.
Streetlights flickered against worn brick apartment buildings. Old cars sat parked along the curbs, buried under white mounds of ice. Most windows were dark, save for a few blue television lights glowing behind thin curtains.
Then, the ground began to rumble.
It started as a low, distant hum—a vibration that rattled the frost on the windowpanes.
Around the corner of 4th Street turned a fleet like nothing the city had ever seen.
Forty-two sleek, white Calloway Systems delivery vans moved in a perfect, synchronized convoy down the avenue. Their high-beam lights illuminated the dark street like a stadium opening night. Every single van was decorated with glowing green LED holiday wreaths mounted on the front grilles, and their roofs flared with soft yellow beacon lights.
At the head of the convoy rolled a massive, custom silver command truck.
Inside the cab of the lead truck, Reed sat behind the wheel. He wore his dark wool coat, but over his shoulder hung a bright red velvet Santa bag packed to the brim with gold-wrapped packages.
Beside him in the passenger seat sat Sarah, while Hazel and Nora leaned against the custom leather sleeper bench behind them, their faces pressed against the frosted window.
"Look!" Hazel gasped, pointing out the window. "Look at the lights!"
Curtains across the neighborhood began to twitch open.
Sleepy faces appeared at second-story windows. Front doors opened an inch, then pulled wide as residents stepped out onto icy porches in robes, boots, and winter coats, staring in utter disbelief at the glittering parade of vehicles lining their forgotten street.
Reed pulled the heavy truck to a stop directly outside 1244 South 4th Street.
He set the airbrakes with a sharp HISS.
Behind him, forty-one other vans pulled to the curbs along 5th, 6th, and 7th Streets, their side doors sliding open in unison. Dozens of Calloway workers—wearing red coats, Santa hats, and yellow safety vests—stepped out into the snow, hauling heavy rolling carts loaded with bright boxes, fresh food baskets, and wrapped toys.
"All teams," Reed spoke into his radio headset, his voice echoing through the speakers of every vehicle in the fleet. "Initiate Christmas Eve protocol. Leave no porch empty. Leave no door unvisited."
"Copy that, Santa Calloway!" a driver’s voice cracked back over the radio, followed by a chorus of cheers from the workers spilling onto the sidewalks.
The neighborhood erupted into a sudden, joyful whirlwind.
Couriers ran up front steps, placing stacks of gifts on doorsteps, ringing doorbells, and shouting "Merry Christmas!" before rushing to the next house. Children in pajamas ran to their front windows, screaming with delight as boxes taller than themselves were laid beside their doors.
Neighbors who hadn't spoken in years stepped out onto their sidewalk, wrapping arms around each other's shoulders, weeping, laughing, watching the white vans turn their dark, forgotten neighborhood into a glowing wonderland.
Reed stepped down from the cab of his truck. He walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and lifted Hazel and Nora down into the soft snow.
He reached into the back of the truck and pulled out two massive gold-wrapped boxes and the plush cream blanket.
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"Lead Inspector Hazel, Inspector Nora," Reed said, his voice thick with an emotion he hadn't felt in two long years. "Permission to complete delivery to Apartment 3B?"
Nora threw her tiny arms around Reed’s knees, burying her face in his coat. "Permission granted, Santa Reed!"
