Excerpt: Moore Than They Bargained For (working title)

By the time she got to the origin of the explosion, all hell had broken loose. One of the passenger cars had taken the brunt of the damage, the green steel hanging limp as if had been peeled like an orange. Inside the unfortunate souls that had been closest to the entry point were now dripping from the ceiling. Evelyn's eyes widen and she let out a gasp. That splotch on the velvet seat had been that girl. Point of entry had been cabin two hundred and fourteen. Her cabin.
"And I told her to stay put," she muttered, unable to pull her eyes away from the scene as what remained of her traveling companion seeped into the cushion. I told her she'd be safe there, dammit. She pounded one fist against the twisted metal. Dammit.
There was the consolation that whatever had done this had happened so quickly that the girl never even knew what hit her. That had to count for something. Especially since the screaming hadn't stopped. Someone wasn't having the same luck.
Now, an uninitiated observer may have assumed that screaming was to be expected when trains explode and people turn into gooey spots on the floor and that may be true. But there was a distinct difference between hysterical screams and screams of pain. And as Evelyn climbed over the twisted wreckage of her seat, the screams coming from further inside the hall were of the latter. In case you are wondering what the difference is dear reader, screams of pain sound more desperate with a lingering whimper at the end. Because just because you've run out of breath to scream doesn't make the pain stop.
Pausing to grab a small drawstring bag from her suitcase, Evelyn sprinted towards the sounds. As she got closer, the screams were punctuated by growling and the occasional wet ripping. She ran faster.
Four doors down from where whatever had happened had happened, the frosted glass of the cabin had been shattered inward and the door itself had been thrown from its hinge. Long furrows like cat claws were embedded deep into both the door and the frame it had sat in.
Like most herd species, humans try to to stick together in a bad situation. Which is usually a crap shoot, but even thousands of years of evolutionary development hadn't managed to intrude on their thick skulls that confining oneself to a small space in the face of danger was the equivalent of the potato climbing into the oven of its own accord. So when the dogs had arrived, they must have figured they'd hit the jackpot. Someone, probably one of the men, had herded every single person from the car into that particular compartment. On the premise of hiding and staying low and sticking together for safety in numbers most likely. Instead, it had just made them easy pickings. The advantage the compartment had - one door to watch, relative little space for an enemy to move in - was only an advantage is any of the sheep knew how to fight back. Otherwise this happened.
Two of them were already down for the count. The elderly gentlemen that had sworn he'd seen "green lights" wasn't going to be seeing anything else ever again. One of dogs, if shaggy slathering beasts made of swirling liquid shadows qualified as dogs, was still worrying the man's throat and another had bitten into his soft, exposed and presumably delicious underbelly. Another passenger of indeterminate gender had been dragged into a corner and had been set upon by three more of the beasts. Which left four morsels still alive.
The survivors crowded onto one of the seats with their knees pulled up to their chests. Two women with identical brown curls above identical faces, who didn't look hold enough to be traveling alone, an elderly lady who was making a valiant effort to keep the remaining dogs at bay with the point of her umbrella and a little girl that couldn't have been more than seven. One of the twins had been the source of the screaming and judging from the amount of blood her sister was trying to stave from her leg, it wasn't hard to see why.
Evelyn whistled, the melodic staccato noise used to call family pets home the world over. "Over here spooky dogs. How about you come play with someone worth your effort?"
The remaining two dogs perked their ears, turning toward the sound of new prey. One of them growled, the shifting shadows on its back raised, forming a fair impression of bristling fur. They both crouched down, ready to spring on this upstart bi-ped that had interrupted their fun. However, the second they had turned their backs, the wiry old woman reached out with a quickness that would have been impressive on someone half her age and sent the pointed tip of her umbrella straight into the temple of one of the dogs. It let out a surprised yelp and collapsed to the floor in a heap. For half a second, everything stopped. The other shadow beasts looked up from their grim meals all eyes on their fallen compatriot. Even the old woman looked shocked, staring at the very real, very red blood coating the end of her makeshift weapon as if it had performed the deed of its own free will, "Well I'll be damned. They can be killed."
Her rheumy eyes met Evelyn's, "It would seem they can."
And just like that, everything went back into motion. Evelyn was no longer perceived to be the biggest threat in the room. All seven beasts lunged at the survivors with liquid movements, making it apparent they'd been toying with the women Well, thought Evelyn, that's what they get for playing with their food.