I looked around at my fellow passengers, knowing most of them had firearms on them. I had to make this quick.

Something about the sheriff’s badge seems to instil calm, however. I nodded to each as I rose, tipped my hat to the mother cradling her new-born.

Having the priest there felt somewhat symbolic, too. He didn’t look at me, but I felt his silent judgement.

Outside the carriage the sun had begun to drench the landscape in a thick amber hue. It was a small railroad we were passing along, no towns for a good few miles in either direction.

I walked on.

I looked up into the driver’s cabin, at the driver who was staring straight ahead. I followed his gaze, and the gun that was now out of my jacket.

On the tracks was a man. Seemingly underdressed, loose overshirt browned by years of dust and travel. His pants were ripped, the fool, and one of his shoes were missing. A drunk.

“I ain’t gon’ tell you this more than once.” I called out, finding security in my firearm and position. No movement, no response. I cocked the gun.

“There are civilised people on this here train, and I consider myself to be among them. However, you sir have interrupted their transit, and I don’t-“

The stranger looked up, and I stopped in my tracks.

His skin was bloodshot, and hung loose as his shirt about his face. His jaw too, seemed ill-fitting, and swung absently, revealing an empty mouth besides a few blackened teeth. His nose was entirely missing.

I’d seen a corpse before, in my days as apprentice to the undertaker. I’d also made a couple.

“I…I’m asking you politely to get off the tracks…”

The creature gave a guttural wheeze, as its eyes found me before it. It lurched, seemingly only barely in control of its motor function. I raised the gun.

I stared at it over the barrel, met its undead gaze.

Its eyes, they…

They seemed almost human.

They were brown, and big, and alive. And in pain.

I lowered the gun. The creature, no, the man took another step forward.

“Where did you come from?” I could now only muster a low whisper.

It paused, actively registering my words, processing its response.

“I…”

The shot went off. In an instant, the man’s innards painted the tracks, a hideous brown that festered in the blood red of the setting sun. It twitched, its upper torso completely dismembered, before falling still.

I turned, gun raised at whomever fired the shot. My revolver was met with a shotgun, and my eyes met with the priest. Neither of us moved.

“I think it was still human-“

“The devil plays tricks on us all, sheriff. Mercy is a weakness. We’re not going to get through this if we exhibit it.”

I looked back what was left of the body, before boarding the train once more.