“What were you doing with my guns?” she leaned toward him. It was easy to assume power over him. He seemed to shrink further into his seat.
He brushed his hand through his blond hair and sat up. After clearing his throat ceremoniously, he said, “Well, uh… ma’am…”
A familiar, acrid smell rankled her nostrils. Flies buzzed aimlessly around the car. She looked over the seats at the sleeping figure, whose head bounced between shoulders while the train ambled on.
“That’s one of the doctors, I reckon,” the youth said. “He’s been asleep since we got on, same as you.”
Through her clenched jaw, she demanded, “How’d we get on this train?”
The tan youth cleared his throat. “The Yanks at the train depot weren’t lookin’ while I was sneaking around. This train was being loaded up, and I just figured on stowin’ aboard so I could hitch a ride back home. A man come to me and he helped me on the train. Said I had to keep my eye on you ’cause you’re special to him. I asted him if you was his daughter, but he just laughed, and he had this laugh that was like a pickaxe being scraped across a rock. I woulda done anything to stop him from laughing. He said I just had to wait for you to wake up, ma’am.”
“Who was he? What’d he look like?”
He shrugged. “Got these big spectacles. It might’ve been the light, but I could see this… there were metal pieces on his teeth. I don’t even know how the man could talk. He was taller ’n me, wasn’t much older, though. Couldn’t see much of him ’sides the metal on his teeth. The sun was in my eyes. Ain’t more’n a couple hours ago.”
“And what about him?” she waved the gun toward the other passenger. “How long has he been sleeping?”
“The whole time. Forgive my manners, ma’am, I got so much on my mind. From here to Vicksburg, all the fields and towns are burning, and there’s blood in the dirt. Making new flowers grow, I reckon. You can smell spring and musket powder when you’re out in those fields. Sometimes, when the cannon fire is far away, you can hear men screaming on the wind.” He shook his head as if shaking himself awake from a recurring dream. “My name’s Bill Carter. I’m from Georgia, born and raised.”
She understood that she was supposed to reply with her own name. Common courtesy was denied her, however. The man with the metal teeth was somehow connected to her. She could envision that metal-clad jaw moving up and down, the glare of light upon a wide pair of spectacles hiding a pair of maniacal eyes.
The train screeched along, and for a moment, she thought she could hear the lamentations of the wounded from the car ahead of them.
“What’d you say that woman’s name was?” she asked. “The outlaw.”
“Why, uh, Neasa Bannan. I say agin, you look like her, only I ain’t swearin’ to it. You seem pretty handy with that hand-cannon you got there. My brother used to be good with one of those. I remember he killed a nigger once in the swamp right behind…”
She quickly placed the barrel of the gun beneath Carter’s chin. “Say it again, I dare you.”
His eyes darted back and forth over his sun-browned cheeks. “Ma’am?”
That word infuriated her. She didn’t know why; she was just as surprised as he was by her smooth, fast movements. The word nigger was common enough, but its mention seemed to stoke an indignant flame to life within her belly. Why did she care so much?
The train shivered momentarily, while the sleeper in front of them swayed. A fly alighted on the back of his neck.
“What else do you know about this train?” she asked and pressed the gun against the bottom of his chin.
“Uh…”
“It’s cold, isn’t it? Death is just as cold.” Bravado seemed to come easily to her.
Men in the hospital car shouted and clamored. She couldn’t prevent her eyebrows from furrowing as a thick, green mist floated through the cracks along the door.
She removed the gun from Carter’s chin. They both rose to their feet as the mist speedily fogged their car. The shouts from the car in front of them grew louder and more desperate. Something thumped against the floor; a wild, tenacious animal seemed to be scratching against the door.
“Please! Let us out!” she could hear the muffled scream as the green mist rose through her own car.
Flies rapidly dropped out of the air; the tiny insects writhed on the floor with spasmodic wings until they finally died. The sunlight filtering in through the windows was afflicted with a sickly green glow.
The other passenger stood, his figure darkened by the swirling mist. He doubled-over and weakly slipped against the seats. A pair of eyeglasses slipped from his face as a coughing fit forced his hands around his throat. He clawed blindly at the protruding veins until he spat thick gobs of blood against the floor.
Carter glanced over his shoulder. “Supply car behind us. We should…”
“What?” she hissed. “Jump off? Hide? Go ahead and jump off a moving train. I’d like to watch an idiot like you break his damn neck.”
The passenger ripped at the flesh along his throat until gashes opened and fresh blood leaked out of the wounds. As the mist curled around the seats, the woman could taste the man’s death upon her lips. His struggle stained the air with a warm, metallic taint. She realized that it wasn’t the first time she’d tasted blood.
She licked her lips as the mist enveloped her.
Taking a deep breath, she waited as Carter’s entire body began to shake. A wet, dark stain appeared around the crotch of his pants.
The passenger suddenly leaped to his feet as if he were nothing more than a puppet controlled by a master with violent tendencies. He threw his head back and roared as the exposed skin on his hands melted away in a mess of gore that plopped onto the carpet and sizzled as if it’d been cooked over an open flame. The loose skin beneath his eyes liquefied and bled over his freshly pressed black suit. Clumps of hair joined scalp that bled from his face. The upright passenger stumbled forward and reached out with blood-red hands while skin and blood continued to rain upon the floor. Chunks of skin and hair slid out of pant legs, and a mouthful of teeth opened over a rolling tongue, which seemed to search the edges of its mouth for the lips that had disintegrated.
“We’re fine,” she placed her hands on Carter’s shoulders. “The mist isn’t doing anything to us. Get your act together.”
The rebel youth seemed to wither in her grasp. The passenger continued to walk down the aisle toward them, while beyond, in the hospital car, the frenzied scratching continued.
“Stop where you are!” she ordered, though she knew her words would have little effect. What was it? No man could continue to walk while his skin burned away, revealing wet, and bloody muscle tissue. His clothes sagged as the rest of his body collected into the folds of fabric, and the weight of human waste caused him to stagger..
She held the gun near her hip and cocked the hammer. Carter continued to shake, but both of them were unharmed by the mist. Why wasn’t she afraid? Her shirt clung to her body, but besides the heat, she was unscathed. Carter was paralyzed by the bleeding terror that approached them without pause.
Could she kill a man?
Wasn’t he already dead?
“Your last warning,” she announced.
When the creature continued to lumber forward, she said, “Well, so much for being nice.”
She fired two shots into its chest. The creature jerked, and then opened its mouth again to reveal the probing, flicking tongue as a waterfall of blood cascaded over the edge of its jaw.
Her aim had been true. Why was it still standing?
She fired once more into its stomach. The creature paused and looked down at the smoking hole. Her ears rang from the close-quarters gunfire.
It stretched out an open hand. Its fingers were inches away from her face.
Carter screamed and barreled into the shambling horror. The creature nearly lost its balance as the rebel delivered a hard right hook to its face. One gore-stained hand curled thin, skeletal fingers around Carter’s throat. With inhuman strength, it lifted him from the floor. Its free hand maliciously dug into his face and tore at those youthful cheekbones. As Carter cried out, the creature arched its fingers and poked its fingernails directly into his eyes. The pressure it applied to his eyes created pools of blood. Carter’s shrieks sounded like those of a tearful boy who’d skinned his knee and needed his mother.
