Friday 14:45 - Ellen

Ellen hurried along the back street that, according to the signpost, led to the railway station. She'd been forced to take a detour because much of the city centre had been cordoned off by police. Some sort of "incident" was all the officer at the barrier had told her. Her enforced detour meant she was later than planned.

How much time did she have left? She reached into her bag to grab her phone and check the time. But the phone wasn't there. Damn! Had she dropped it? Maybe she'd left it in that awful little restaurant? Well, it was too late now. No point going back and trying to retrace her steps, it could be anywhere. The insurance would pay for a replacement. And if she missed this train, the next one to London wasn't for another five hours.

She'd rather go through the hassle of an insurance claim than spend an extra five minutes of her life in this place, let alone five hours.

Swinging the bag back over her shoulder, she continued her rapid walk along the street. A few minutes later, she saw the sign for the station entrance. Relieved, she turned the corner.

And came face to face with a snarling man.

His skin was a pale and sickly grey, his eyes dull and lacking intelligence. Blood and saliva ran down his chin and dripped slowly to the ground.

Ellen's brain processed those observations within a fraction of a second. Her instincts urged her to run, but her muscles refused to obey. She froze, willing herself to become invisible.

But the man had noticed her. He snarled, his breath fetid and meaty. Then he reached out a hand in her direction and she instinctively raised an arm to protect herself. In response, he grabbed her forearm, pulling it towards him. She tried to draw back, but his grip was strong. His head came down and she saw his mouth approaching her wrist, about to rip through the flesh and sever the artery. She felt the press of teeth on her flesh, felt the surface of her skin break and the first drops of blood begin to flow...

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There was a loud, dull thumping sound. Her attacker's head was jerked aside and he released his grip.

Behind him stood an overweight, middle-aged man wearing too-tight clothes and cycling goggles. In his hand, he held a length of metal pipe. As Ellen watched, the man brought the pipe down on her attacker's head a second time, then a third. There was the crunch of bone shattering and the snarling man who had attacked her fell to the ground, his head a bloody wreck. Her rescuer made one last thrust with the pipe, penetrating the damaged skull. The fallen attacker twitched, then went still.

The strangely dressed man let go of his weapon and turned to Ellen. "Fear not, citizen," he said. "The danger is past, another foul zombie has been despatched by Captain Marrenforth. Now hurry home to your loved ones and stay safe."

Ellen said nothing, just stared at the bloody mess on the ground before her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She simply couldn't think of anything to say.

Instead, she fled from the scene and ran as fast as she could into the station.

---

Five minutes later, she was sitting on the train for London, waiting for it to leave.

She hadn't reported the incident with the two crazed men. If she'd still had her phone, she might have called the police. But reporting it in person would mean hanging around and missing her train. By the time she'd finished giving statements, it would probably mean having to stay in Marrenforth another night.

No way was that happening. She just wanted to get out of this crazy town and back to the sanity of London. She'd call the authorities when she got home and if they needed a witness statement then they could come to her. The image of her attacker's bloody mess of a head was etched into her mind, causing her to shiver, but she found it difficult to feel much sympathy for him.

As the train pulled out of Marrenforth station, Ellen breathed a sigh of relief. Putting her bag down on the seat beside her, she looked at her wrist. The feral man's teeth had grazed her, but it wasn't much of an injury.

Taking out a tissue from her bag, she wiped off the few drops of congealed blood and made a mental note to apply some antiseptic when she got home. She'd been lucky, thank goodness that other lunatic had been there to save her. Though he was almost as frightening as the first had been.

But that didn't matter. In a few hours, she'd be back in London.

It was almost over.

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