The narrow corridor of the train car was dimly lit by a lone flickering lightbulb. The peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet hinted at the car's age and neglect. Rebecca moved cautiously, her boots barely making a sound on the faded carpet. With her pistol raised, she slowly turned the knob of the door marked 202.

The small compartment held little more than a bunk bed, a barred window, and a weathered nightstand with a dingy lamp. Clothes and trash were strewn across the floor, evidence of a hasty exit. Rebecca's gaze swept the room, alert for any dangers. Finding none, she rifled through the nightstand drawers, intrigued by the documents within. Settling on the lower bunk, she picked up the radio and clicked the transmitter.

"Officer Chambers here," she said, her voice quavering. "I had to- I had to open fire on some civilians after I was attacked. They displayed signs of death when I examined them, but they got back up and came at me. I warned them to stop, but they kept advancing. I shot multiple times, but they just kept moving." She took a shaky breath.

"I found paperwork indicating an employee aboard was being transported to reopen some facility near here. That's all I have for now."

Rebecca stared at the silent radio, willing a response. As the seconds stretched on, her hand began to tremble. Tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. She buried her face in her arms, muffling her sobs in her sleeves. No one seemed to be on the other end.

A sudden knock at the door made her gasp. She swept up the radio and aimed her pistol at the door.

"Who's there?" she demanded, steel in her voice. "Identify yourself!"

A gravelly male voice replied from the hallway. "I heard crying and wanted to check you were okay. Probably not wise to yell with those monsters around. I don't want trouble." His voice was calm, placating. "I heard gunshots earlier and thought there might be a survivor. I'm coming in slow, no sudden moves."

Rebecca scrubbed the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. "Hands up and move slowly," she ordered, steadying her aim. "Don't try anything stupid."

The knob turned and a tall, muscular man entered with his hands raised. His face was obscured by a red bandana. "See? No trouble from me," he said.

Recognition sparked in Rebecca's eyes. "You - you're the prisoner from the other car."

The man noticed the S.T.A.R.S. badge on Rebecca's shoulder. "Ah, S.T.A.R.S. Look honey, I know you guys don't like me around, but cooperation seems wise right now." His tone remained calm and even. "We need each other if we want to get out of this alive."

Rebecca's grip on the pistol tightened. "First, don't call me honey. I'm Officer Chambers." Her voice was sharp. "Second, cooperate with a wanted felon? I should arrest you now after what happened to those soldiers!"

The man held up a placating hand. "I wasn't involved in that. I woke up and they were gone. All I found were wolves the size of fridges chasing me. That's how I got here." He met her gaze steadily. "I didn't kill anyone...alive, anyway."

Rebecca's aim wavered slightly. "Why should I believe you? You could be hiding something."

"Look ki- Rebecca," he said evenly, "we're on a train full of zombies, in the middle of nowhere. Unless you want to play Ouija with that radio, cooperating is our best bet for survival."

Rebecca's jaw tightened stubbornly. "They aren't dead. Maybe the signal is weak."

He glanced at the silent radio and back at Rebecca. "From here to the woods? Come on..."

"No. I have to get back to the drop point. Someone has to be there."

"Even if you wanted to be kamikaze about it, the train's electronically sealed. Nothing in or out without codes." He raised an eyebrow. "You could try jumping out a window, but that seems unwise, Officer."

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Rebecca considered her lack of options. As much as she hated to admit it, she wouldn't last long alone. And they shared a goal - survival.

"Fine. Just until we're out of here. Then I'll arrest you." Her aim lowered slightly.

The man gave a wry half-smile. "Sure, whatever you say."

A sudden violent lurch threw them off balance. The train wheels had begun rolling, picking up speed.

The man gripped the door frame to stay upright. "Someone started the train. But who's driving?"

Rebecca rose, re-holstering her gun. "The engineer's cab. There could be other survivors."

"I didn't find anyone in the cars ahead. But I heard automatic weapon fire earlier. Was that you?" At Rebecca's head shake, he frowned. "What happened to your primary weapon?"

Rebecca's expression shuttered. "That's...not important now. We need to move." She headed for the door. "If this train is going where I think, our best bet may be staying put."

The interior of the locomotive's cab was a stark contrast to the antique elegance of the passenger cars. Banks of buttons, levers and wiring panels covered the walls, giving the impression more of a spacecraft than a Renaissance-era train. Four soldiers outfitted in gas masks and toting compact machine guns methodically scanned the area. One soldier manned the train's controls.

"Delta Team, Delta Team, we have secured the train. Over," the soldier at the controls radioed.

"Roger. What's your distance from the nearest branch line?" came the staticky reply.

"About ten minutes out, sir."

"Proceed there and await further instruction. Over and out."

The soldier turned to his compatriots. "Are we ready to get this train moving?"

The others gave curt nods, focused on their surroundings. As the train began gathering speed, its headlamp pierced the darkness ahead, revealing a massive bear lumbering down the tracks.

"Sir, be advised we have a situation developing-" the soldier started.

With a guttural roar, the bear bounded forward and shattered the windshield, pouncing on the driver and rendering him unconscious in a frenzy of claws and fur. The other soldiers opened fire, but the enraged beast charged the nearest shooter, tearing his head from his body in a spray of blood. As the creature turned its attention to another victim, the desperate soldier fumbled to reload his weapon. But the bear slammed him against the wall, mauling the helpless man to a gruesome demise.

Seeing an opportunity, the remaining soldier burst from the cab into the adjoining train car. He smashed the glass door with his weapon and hurled a gas grenade through the opening. After slamming a new magazine into his gun, the soldier took a deep breath and pushed through the door into the hazy carriage. The smoke swirled around his mask's red lenses as he swept the area. Confirming the threat had passed, he hurried to the ruined control panel, its mangled wires sputtering sparks. With a heave of a lever, the train began creeping forward once more, even as an alarm sounded in protest. From the cab doorway came a guttural growl. The soldier whirled and opened fire, determination steeling his nerves.

The cramped luggage compartment of the speeding train was cluttered with briefcases, purses, backpacks and bags that obstructed the path. Billy strode ahead with determination, his keen eyes scanning for threats as Rebecca followed closely behind. Though Billy exuded confidence, Rebecca's slight frame and youthful features betrayed her inexperience.

"Aren't you a little too young for this?" Billy questioned over his shoulder, his gruff voice tinged with concern.

"It's my first month, I'm still in evaluation. I graduated very quickly," Rebecca explained earnestly, her voice carrying a hint of pride.

Billy stopped abruptly and turned to face her, his weathered brows knitting together in surprise. "Graduated? How old are you?"

"I'm 22, and I have a medical degree," she stated matter-of-factly.

"At 22?" Billy scoffed in disbelief. "Who's your father, Michael Warren?"

Rebecca bristled at the mocking tone. "It's not funny, I worked very hard for that degree."

Undeterred, Billy pressed on. "Why would a nerd like you choose a business like this? If you want to help assholes you can be a proctologist."

Rebecca stiffened, her youthful optimism hardening. "My parents managed to push me to finish that career, I wasn't going to let them decide how to practice it. I don't want to live my life like them."

"Teenage rebellion, huh?" Billy smirked knowingly. "Daddy and mommy were too busy working?"

"That's not what-" Rebecca started angrily before stopping herself with a frustrated huff. "Enough about me. Why did YOU join the force?" she shot back.

Billy's amusement faded, a shadow passing over his rugged features. "It runs in the blood, I guess. That's all my father knew, and that's all I know."

Rebecca studied him for a moment before asking softly, "Did you really...did you really do it?"

Billy tensed, his piercing eyes meeting hers. "I thought you knew me. I figured you would know."

Steeling herself, Rebecca pressed firmly, "Answer the question."

Billy held her gaze a moment longer before turning away dismissively. "This should be one of the last cars. Keep an eye out."

They continued on silently, the tension palpable between them. Reaching the end of the car, Billy slid open the door to reveal tools and machinery running loudly. At the end, a door with a shattered window emitted an alarming blare.

"We're here. That should be the cabin," Billy declared gruffly.