The 12:05
by G. O. ClarkApril 11, 2019
Each night, at 12:05 sharp, the train whistle repeatedly blows a kind of Morse code warning to anything on the tracks up ahead in the darkness.
It's a well-known fact that evil things are attracted to the sound, and wander down the tracks towards it, the engine's light pinning them like stage actors in the spotlight just before the final curtain.
At daybreak, under the cloudless sky, the town folk start their day safe in the knowledge that the mess from the night before will have been cleared away, the zombie hoards shy a few more members, the morning train right on schedule.
About G. O. Clark
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