Christmas Night Of The Living Dead Part 1

I walked through the little side door that allowed access and egress from the platform to the open streets of Hollow Bay. The main thoroughfare; complete with ticket office, electric timetable and vending machine, had been closed for several hours, dark and empty. Hollow Bay's train station was exactly like the other stations that had been built on the South Eastern coastal line. Grey outer shells, wooden floors leading out onto tarmac platforms with black and white patterns on all the railings and stairs that cross under the tracks to and from London.

I pulled my coat tighter as a breeze suddenly brought the full -10 degrees wind chill swirling around me. They had forecast snow all week, yet it had waited until tonight to release its first flakes. There are times when I consider Mother Nature to be in possession of a cruel sense of humour, oh how I must have wronged her in a previous life. The flakes continued to increase in size and density until very soon, with exception of the metal rails, the track itself was covered in a shallow blanket of white. Looking up at the black and yellow departure board I started to wonder if the last train to London would even run at all.

I took a sharp intake of breath as I thought I saw movement of something large and black a little way down the line. The inrush of cold air, and several large snowflakes, settled in the back of my throat and I coughed, deep coughs that seemed to stretch several unused muscles in my chest, Eventually it subsided to be replaced by a shallow wheezing as my lungs adjusted to the cold. However, after several deep breaths I soon realised that the wheezing noise wasn't coming from my own lungs, but from someone in close proximity...