A World That Was Not Ours
Greentide woke with a start to a repeated mechanical chugging, accompanied by a staccato of clicks and clacks. He sat up in the bed, and looked at the window. It was almost entirely coated in snow, save for a small bare patch in the center that showed large snowflakes being whisked off into the distance. He felt a slight rocking sensation, as if he were moving. He seemed to be on a train, judging by the sights and sounds.
He observed his surroundings. He was laying in a bed that was next to a bland looking desk. Upon the desk sat a large metal box with a black handle. He left his bed and trotted over to the desk. Upon opening the box, he found a cavalry revolver, a shortened M1 Carbine, two clips for the carbine, and twelve revolver bullets. He put the revolver into a holster into the trench coat he was wearing, and slung the rifle over his back. He walked over to the door and stepped out of the room on the train car.
