Chapter 1

The Armageddon Express thundered through the night. Sparks scattered from its massive iron wheels. Dirty thick smoke billowed from its funnels. Fire raged in its belly as the steam engine raced towards its destination.

               'Tickets, please.'

               Arthur Gimble yawned.

               'Tickets, please, sir.'

               Arthur opened one eye. He peered at the man standing in front of him. The man smiled. He was wearing a uniform. He looked like a conductor. Arthur opened his other eye.

               'Can I see your ticket, please?'

               Arthur sat up straight. He glanced around and scratched his head. He looked out of the window. It was pitch-black. He turned to the conductor. 'Where am I?'

               The conductor smiled. He tapped the badge on his jacket.

               'The Armageddon Express? I'm on a train?' said Arthur.

               The conductor nodded. 'Can I see your ticket, please, sir?'

               Arthur patted his pockets. 'I don't think I have one.'

               'Oh, dear. Get off at the next stop then.'

               'But I don't think I'm supposed to be here?'

               The conductor rolled his eyes. 'That's what they all say!'

Arthur frowned. 'So, what is the next stop?'

               The conductor removed his pocket watch. He flicked the catch on the side. 'That would be Dead-End Station, sir.'

               'Dead-End Station? Are you having a laugh?'

               'Not at all. I'm deadly serious,' said the conductor. He popped his watch back into his pocket.

               The train jolted. The conductor lurched forward. 'You have three minutes to gather your belongings before we arrive.' He pointed to the baggage compartment above Arthur's head. He leaned closer. 'Hurry, sir. You'll miss your stop. You wouldn't want me to throw you off.'

               'Wouldn't I?'

               The conductor whispered in Arthur's ear. 'No, you wouldn't!' He then stood up straight and smiled. 'Right. Have a good evening, sir.' He slid the door open and left.

               Arthur stood up. Above his head, on the baggage rack, was a brown leather bag. He pulled it down. Tied to the handle was a label — Arthur Gimble's worldly possessions.