** A young woman sees a walking dead in the open streets of Whitby. A train full of corpses crashes into Kings Cross. In an Asylum, a gruesome nightmare becomes horrible reality.
All this should have been a warning to Kyle and his partner Benjamin...
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Daniel Fitzroy had a really crappy day.
This morning, his bossy wife chased him out of bed at the crack of dawn, before the stupid rooster even thought of opening its beak. The expression "got up on the wrong side of the bed" couldn't have been more apt for him. But Daniel—known to everyone as "Dan"—wasn't going to let it get him down today. No, no. Not today! For some unknown reason, he had a feeling that it could still be a good day.
Oh, how wrong he was.
On his way to work across the fields, he dreamed of a better life and dawdled a little. However, God must have had a very ironic sense of humor, because he didn't notice the pile of manure in time and stepped in it with a loud squelch.
Cursing, he spent more than enough time wiping the stinking manure off his shoes in the adjacent grass—and ended up arriving late at the relay station.
His boss, a grumpy old codger named Mr. Channing, gave him a thorough dressing-down and sent him to the stables with a brush and a pitchfork as punishment.
Even as he shoveled manure around and poked around in horse dung and straw again, he slowly began to think that this day might not have anything good in store for him after all.
And this time, he was right.
His stupid pitchfork was having just as bad a day as he was. The thing, which had been corroded by time for years, broke away from his hands with a big pile and spread the manure directly at his feet – and on his clothes. As if that weren't enough, Mr. Channing made him stand there and kept part of his day's wages as compensation for the 'wilfully destroyed pitchfork'.
Daniel didn't have to think long about what his wife would say when he came home with less pay than usual.
Daniel's mood was already at rock bottom when Channing ordered him to take the station carriage back to Thornaby and return the next morning with new passengers. Since the bridge over the fancy new railway line to Whitby had collapsed, Channing was making more money with his old, rickety carriages, and the old miser was taking advantage of Daniel's "fault" without any consideration.
One would think that at least the thought of escaping his wife and her punishing rolling pin for an evening would comfort him a little.
Daniel couldn't believe how unlucky he had been today. Wasn't he a good man who always worked hard? Hadn't he married the woman his father thought was right for him, and hadn't he been a faithful husband? Wasn't there a little bit of good waiting for him somewhere?
Any hope of a silver lining on the horizon literally disappeared behind the black storm clouds as it began to pour down. Dan sat huddled on his coachman's seat, which rocked gently beneath him in time with the horses' trot. Rain poured down on him as if from buckets. The world was gray everywhere, as if a veil had been drawn over it, blocking out all other sounds with the loud roar of the wind and the rush of the rain. Even the clattering of the horses' hooves in front of him was nothing more than a dull sound that was drowned out by the drumming sound of the raindrops on his wide-brimmed hat.
