** 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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A damp wad of banknotes landed on the ticket counter at York station, startling the conductor who had been dozing on a chair. The ticket seller blinked several times, as if to make sure he wasn't in some bizarre dream. Then he looked at the people in front of him with a mixture of concern and suspicion.
His gaze slid agonizingly slowly from top to bottom. "Three tickets to London. First class," Kaylee squeezed out, her voice sounding stiff and hoarse. She tried to ignore the way the guy in the railroad uniform looked first at her, then at Ms. Clarence and Dr. Archer. A muscle twitched under Kaylee's left eye. She tapped the wet bills impatiently. She could guess what was going through the man's mind. All three of them looked like they had stumbled out of a pub brawl. Not exactly the type to travel first class and sip champagne.
The once-smart clothes of 'Mr. Crowford', Dr. Archer, and Mrs. Clarence were torn in many places, dirty, wet, and each of them was bleeding here and there. Even though Dr. Archer had more or less patched up the injuries, they looked anything but inconspicuous.
"The tickets. Please," Kaylee added slowly, scraping the politeness from the bottom of her shattered patience.
While the conductor hesitantly pushed the three tickets over, still wondering whether he should inquire about the well-being of the passengers or refrain from doing so for his own good, the supposed gentleman turned away and returned to the other two strange individuals.
Without a word, Kaylee handed one ticket to Benjamin and one to Miss Clarence. "First class," Kaylee heard the young woman murmur in disbelief, but she didn't respond.
A tense silence reigned between them as the train entered the station with a shrill whistle and left again a few moments later, heading for London. The carriage jolted slightly and the strained groaning and creaking of the iron wheels finally gave way to a monotonous rattling and the regular ta-tak of the rails.
Paper rustled as Kaylee reached for a folded newspaper lying on the narrow shelf by the window and unfolded it. The movement sent a nasty pain through her hand, and the seeker resisted the urge to spread her fingers or clench them into a fist just in time, her teeth clenched.
None of that would ease the pain, she knew. The echo of the spell that had slipped away throbbed like a pulse in her veins and the dark marks on her left hand. Knife blades cutting through the wound again and again, pressing into her veins like burning fire. That was another reason why her breath was shallow and constricted—but she would have done anything to avoid expressing the pain. Especially not in front of the girl.
Meanwhile, Dr. Archer pulled his notebook from inside his coat and the pencil scratched across the paper.
"So... when do you plan to explain to me what just happened?" Ms. Clarence's voice finally broke the silence.
Behind the newspaper, Kaylee closed her eyes in exasperation and took a deep breath. Couldn't they take a few minutes to catch their breath before facing a barrage of questions?
