It was hard to tell if it was early or late because the sky was that puke-nasty gray color, just like the slag-choked streams in a mining town. The message had come by private courier, as evidenced by the fact it had been haphazardly crammed under my door. It was bent in the middle and covered in...
The area rang with gunshots, but there was no way to tell if it was reanimants or unionists they were shooting. Somehow, through that rolling thunder, we heard the clatter of carriage wheels. A steamcoach was driving along one of the parallel streets. It slowed down with a...