me get to the bottom of this?”
“Certainly!” I agreed.
We moved through the car, slowly. I think
Missus Mister was observing things, but I can't
be sure, because I was mostly preoccupied with
trying to look like I was contributing. I was
nodding gravely and making broad, hawk-like
scans of the room. We both heard a rustling
coming from the luggage car at the same time!
Of that I can be sure.
We opened the door and looked in. Someone
was standing over one of the open trunks, rifling
through other people's possessions.
I was outraged! I may be a modern and
adventurous woman, but let me tell you, I never
thought for a moment I would ever see someone
rifling through the personal effects of
mourning British ladies and gentleman!
“Now, you see!” I cried, while
Missus Mister grabbed ahold of
my arm. “You thief ! You did not
board this train with us, and I think
that you should leave at once!”
Missus Mister's grip was quite
strong, then, and she said lowly, “They
didn't board the train with us, Philomena,
because they were already on board...”
The raider turned towards us. It was a zombie!
One of the undead! Missus Mister slowly raised
her gun, and I'm glad there was no one to see
me then for I must have been pulling the most
outrageous and un-lady-like faces.
Can you believe it was dead AND it was rifling
through somebody’s luggage? Dear Aunt would
not be hearing this story when I returned! Oh, the
scandal! The creature's jaw was vile and grotesque,
held on or enhanced by some horrible mechanical
contraption. It bit at us, moving our way, slowly.
Just as Missus Mister aimed for the biter, the
zombie lunged at us and I yanked on Missus
Mister so hard, the Mister missed her shot!
“Don't let it bite you!” she shouted, ably slicing
the restraints on the trunks nearest, which toppled
to the ground, blocking the biter! She kicked the
trunk open and pulled out various guns, handing
one to me!
Now, I have attended a grouse shoot, but I have
never been expected to run and gun! We ran back
through the train car of the dead as each corpse
began to rise from their coffins along the sides!
Goodness gracious, me!
“Aim for the head!” shouted Mister, blowing
off zombie heads left and right, leaving me quite
bewildered. She shot around me, I say! As if I was
a tree branch or some leaf blowing by on the wind,
only minorly obstructing her view! I, myself, was
struggling with whether or not I should actually
shoot at a person's head, reanimated or no!
We burst through to the passenger
car where the tour members were
sleeping only to find a towering
monster of a zombie, something
akin to a circus Strong Man, ripped
apart at the jaw and reorganized
with a gun—I might say a mortar—
for a mouth! The monster charged at
us, his mouth cannon firing!
This woke the passengers just in time to
find zombies bursting from the car behind. One
passenger who I did not know—he was not part
of this particular tour—was grabbed and bitten. I
did not know whether I should shoot towards the
person who was being attacked. I was not prepared
for this event! I went to some tennis lessons once!
I saw a person’s leg get run over by a wagon once.
None of my experiences were helping! We were
trapped between a brutish monster on one side
and a horde on the other!
Hammerhorn rose behind the gun-mouth
and toppled it, allowing Mister, some passengers,
and I to struggle past. “Why are there zombies
on the train?” he asked. Oh, Lord, a zombie was
approaching from behind him as well!