"The Engineer" by Twisted Zero
*************************************************************************** The Engineer (Part 2)
The train reached a distance of about five feet past the right side crossing lights when a jagged, flashy band of light appeared in an arch around the engine. The train continued through, disappearing as it went, but the band stayed in place, seemingly consuming the twenty-some cars that followed the speeding engine. Our car stopped dead and suddenly the entire train was gone. The lights quit flashing. The bell went silent. Tin and I just sat there, listening to the quiet buzz that signaled that the car had stalled.
Neither of us dared to move. We were paralyzed with fear. A train just came out of nowhere, our car almost drove itself infront of said train, and then said train vanished into an archway of white light. This was odd. We just sat there, silently, staring straight ahead, for I don't know how long.
"What just happened?" Tin asked calmly. I took a moment to put my response together, then slowly stated:
"I think...we almost got hit...by a ghost train."
After another pause, Tin nodded slowly and restarted the car. Slowly, but under Tin's total control, the car passed over the tracks and made it safely to the other side.
"Home," I said quickly.
"Yeah," he agreed, and we were off in a flash. Well, let me rephrase that; The train was gone in a flash. We left very fast. Yeah, that sounds better.
Once in town, Tin spoke, finally breaking the silence in the car.
"Nobody's gonna believe us," he said simply.
"I know," I said, "but we're gonna tell somebody anyway, aren't we?"
"You're damn right we are," he stated sternly. We were on his block, but passed his house and careened around the corner. In five minutes we were at Bluestreak's house. I checked the clock on the car before Tin shut the engine off. It was only 1:36. We nearly jumped out of the car and sprinted to Bluestreak's porch. We stopped for a moment and caught ourselves before just barging in.
"Should we knock?" asked Tin.
"It's be polite," I suggested. With this in mind, we started banging on the front door. When the door remained shut after the fourth hit, Tin started calling into the house.
"Streak! Get your ass out here!" he yelled.
"Jason, open this door right now!" I bellowed while beating his door in. After a few more seconds, the door was harshly jerked open and a very tired looking Bluestreak in only boxers and sweat pants stood in the doorway.
"What could you bastards possibly want?" he asked without moving his lips.
"We've gotta talk to you," I said, wide-eyed.
"It's important," Tin finished, imposingly. Bluestreak took a second, and then sighed, backing away from the doorway.
"Fine, get your asses in here," he said, walking to and dropping down upon the couch in his living room. We followed, Tin sitting beside him and I on the sofa at the right of and perpendicular to the couch. "Now, what is your problem?" he asked sleepily.
"Something just tried to kill us!" Tin blurted. Streak woke up at that comment.
"What?!" he asked in disbelief and surprise.
"Dude, I kid you not!" stated Tin, excitedly but serious. "We were out driving around, and then we stopped at a railroad crossing, but there wasn't any train even though the signs said there oughtta be, and then something started--like--pulling the car onto the tracks! That's when the train appeared outta, like, nothingness, and I threw the car into reverse and I was all peelin' out and the train kept coming and just as the train got in front of us and the car was, like, two feet from total decimation, the car stalled out dead and the train disappeared into a tunnel of light and the signs just quit, and it was weird as fuck and scarey as hell!"
Bluestreak sat there, mouth open, eyes cocked kinda funny, just staring at Tin the Babbler. I put a a hand on his shoulder and said, "O.K., good work Tin, how 'bout I give it a try?"
"O.K.," said Tin, ignoring my sarcasm.
"Streak," I started, and he looked right at me. "Everything that the Flash just told you was exactly true. What we at least believe to have been a ghost train was, again we think, trying to run us over. Sorta."
"A train," Bluestreak said at length, more trying to confirm it to himself than ask us.
"A train," said Tin, nodding. Streak closed his eyes and grimaced.
"What kind of train?" he asked.
"Trans-fuckin'-lucent, Jason! We told you, this thing was some kinda ghost, man!" yelled Tin.
"I mean, what was the make, Quentin, and if you don't calm the hell down right now, you can get outta my house!" Bluestreak shot back, putting a certain irritated emphasis on Tin's name.
"I'm not sure, myself," I said. "It didn't look like anything I'd ever seen...maybe some kind of steam engine, but definitely nothing modern, by any means."
"Wow..." said Streak, rubbing his temples. "You guys are aware of what this sounds like?" he asked, making it sound more like a statement.
"Of course we are," said Tin. "But we had to tell somebody."
"And you do know you can't say anything about this to anybody else, right?" he asked. Tin and I stopped for a second and looked at each other in confusion, then back to him.
"Why not?" I asked. Bluestreak looked at both of us like he was apalled at our ignorance.
"Hel-LO, guys. Last night? Cute little couple on the railroad tracks, now they're really on the railroad tracks, and nobody knows...." He stopped dead. His eyes kinda glazed over, and then, just above a whisper, he finished, "...why."
I didn't feel it happen, but when I turned my head to meet Tin's shocked expression and noticed that his jaw had dropped, I became aware that mine had, too.
"Oh...my...God," said Tin, looking down at the floor and holding his head up with both hands.
"I can't believe we forgot about that," I said to nothing in particular.
"Dude, where'd you go?" came a new voice. We all three looked to the entanceway and saw a rather tall, lanky sort of kid standing in grey sweats and a dark green T-shirt, rubbing his eyes like he'd just gotten up. When he saw Tin and I in the room with Bluestreak, he stopped abruptly and his voice was astonishly awakened, though his head still hung at an odd angle, his hand frozen to his eye, the left one darting between the two of us. "Hi, guys. W'sup?" he asked.
"Hi, Floyd," said Tin, from beside the window. "Sleep much?"
"Not when lunatics are screaming at and banging on the door," he answered. "Speaking of which, why was that happening?"
"Sit down," I sighed, after a second's pause. He sat down beside Bluestreak and looked about the trio in the room. "Well?" he asked.
"O.K., Bluestreak, you might believe us, but Floyd doesn't know us too well, and not that I'm making any judgements here, but he just think we're lying, and I can't deal with that right now. Floyd, did you drive here?" I asked, turning my attention straight to him.
"Uh...yeah?" he said cautiously, his eyes narrowing a bit.
"Got plenty gas?" I asked.
"Half a tank," he said, just the same, glancing once to Streak and then back to me.
"Good," I started, but Tin cut me off.
"Fuck that!" he said sternly. "I'm not going back there--"
"Hey! Tin! Do want anybody to believe us or not?" I asked loudly. He was about to protest again, but I started in. "Look, we get over there, we wait for it, we show these guys what happens, if anything even does happen. However, instead of being in the car, we will all be sitting near the trees at the side of the road, so nothing can happen." Tin looked more agreeable, though still not happy. I looked at Floyd. "Get dressed, we gotta trip to take."
Floyd looked at me, then Tin, then Bluestreak, then back to me.
"Dude...this better be worth it."
In ten minutes, we'd gotten both Bluestreak and Floyd (which I know sounds like an awful futuristic Dukes of Hazard kinda cop show that only UPN could create.) dressed and everyone into Floyd's Celebrity. Twenty minutes later, we'd made the last turn onto the road that held the crossing at which Tin and I had witnessed the "event". After a few bends, the crossing came into veiw.
"O.K., slow down," I said from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Get up to about ten feet away from the tracks, then stop the car."
He did as he was told, and when the proper distance, he put the brake on and upwardly slapped the gear shift into park.
"Here?" he said in a slightly tired voice.
"Absolutely," I said, staring straight ahead. "O.K.... Everybody out."
"Wait--what?" asked Floyd.
"I said, get out of the car, Floyd. So...get out of the car." I said. At this, Tin and I both had our doors open and by the time we were out, Floyd was looking quizzically at Bluestreak, who just shrugged and followed suit. Bluestreak had gotten about half as far as Tin and I when Floyd stood up out of his car. Suddenly, and without any warning at all, there was a sinlge "ding" from one of the signal bells. This caught Floyd's attention, and he turned where he was and looked at the signal on our side of the road, but nothing came of it. He took about four steps away from his car, turned and pushed the door shut. Bluestreak had gotten to us by now, and joined us sitting by the side of the road. It was at this point that the signals were activated, both bells and lights. The bars wobbled a bit, as if something were holding them, keeping them from lowering.
"Hey," called Floyd from beside his car, "You guys do have great timing."
"Floyd--get away from there!!" I yelled, standing up. The train blew its whistle from the distance and the wind picked up, blowing leaves and dust in circles and swirls.
"I'm coming," he said, rolling his eyes and taking two more steps to get around the car. Unfortunately, he'd left his driver side window up. I say this was unfortunate, because had he left his window down, then when the invisible force had spun him around, picked him up and shoved him head-first into the driver seat, the glass wouldn't have been there for him to have to break through.
Tin and Bluestreak jumped to their feet, all three of us simply stunned.
"Holy FUCK!!" shouted Bluestreak, running to assist Floyd. "Come ON, guys!" he shouted back to us, and we snapped back to reality, rushing to meet them. The whistle blew again, closer this time.
We got to the car, Bluestreak frantically asking Floyd if he was O.K., and Floyd, only semi with it, was mumbling something in return about not knowing. The bars on the signals suddenly received a bright jolt of electricity, and were blown off.
The wind was ferocious now, nothing at all like the circumstances of the earlier encounter. Streak had been trying helplessly to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.
"Grab his ankle, grab his ankle," I directed, and we each pushed Floyd's legs down under the steering column. I reached in and grabbed one of his hands and pulled him into a sitting position. The car jerked.
"Oh shit, not this again!" yelled Tin, his hands running through his hair as he stood behind us, un able to help for lack of room.
"Take an arm," I hollered, and Bluestreak yelled back that he had one. The car began to move forward as we had Floyd pulled halfway out of the car. Tin ran in front of it and gave a loud "Oh, shit!" when he saw the beaming pale blue light of the oncoming train, then ran at the car, slammed his hands onto the hood and started to push, slowing the car's pace to half of what it was.
"Come on Floyd, you gotta help us out, buddy!" I yelled, and he seemed to wake up a bit. kicking his legs out from under the wheel. As soon as he had done this, the three of us fell back onto the road, and, seeing as we were out of immediate danger, Tin let up off the car and bolted over to us, quickly scurrying us off the road.
We looked up and saw that the car had been pulled up onto the tracks and stopped, its lights matching the superfast pattern of the signals'. The train came, its noise louder than any other. It looked like Tim Burton had a bad dream about a steam engine; it was purple, black, silver and blue, and warped and twisted like no train I'd ever seen, nor you, I'd imagine. The weirdest thing about how it looked, though, was that you could just barely see right through it.
It smashed right through the car, crumpling it like tin foil, ripping it in half and sending shards of metal spinning and flipping as far as fifteen feet around, although no explosion occurred. About twenty feet past the car, the train's emergency brake switched on and the train slid another fifty feet before completely stopping.
We layed there in total shock, the four of us hudled together, yet strewn upon the grass beside the road. Slowly, the train backtracked until the engine was a good fifteen feet behind the spot where it killed Floyd's car. We all uncovered our heads enough to look up and see the train when it hissed and came to a complete stop. There wa a moment's pause and then a voice boomed out over the area. A deep voice, but not Freddy Krueger, or James Earl Jones deep. It was even more gravely and mad then deep, but it was definitly scarey to everybody.
"O.K., that's it," it said, loud as the Fourth of July. "I got one good hit in, and then the next two were fuckin' blood-free! In the same FUCKING night!! Well, no more givin' you bastards head starts; from now on, I see somebody on the tracks and BAM!!! They're dead...!" The sounds of gears moving and steam hissing were heard, and the voice added with a faint chuckle, "Heh....See you kids later."
Then, starting at the light at the front of the engine, the train was consumed in a bright bluish-white light, and vanished. The four rose to their feet not breaking from their stupified gaze toward where there transparent train had been not one minute ago.
"What the fuck is goin' on here?" murmured Bluestreak.
"That is an extremely good question, Blue," I said, still kind of shaking. "One that I think we better find an answer to."
"I'd like to go on record as being terrified beyond any limits that fear has ever known," said Tin, from the back of the group.
"Oh...my...God," said Floyd. The first two words were normal enough, but "God" came out more like "Goo-awwwd", and it sounded like he was about to throw up. For the first time, I moved; I turned behind me to look at him.
"Dude...are you O.K.?" I asked.
"Yeah, man," said Bluestreak, "We oughtta get you to a hospital to get checked out--"
"I don't need a goddamned hospital!" he yelled, shoving past me and walking stiffly toward the wreckage on the tracks. "My CAR...is what needs the hospital!" He got right beside what was left of what used to be the back end of his car, held his hands out uselessly, and dropped to his knees. "I am so dead." he stated calmly, looking at the destruction before him.
"Hey, man.... You're lucky you got out in time," said Bluestreak, coming up behind him. He was about to put his hand on Floyd's shoulder, but Floyd turned his head just enough so that he could barely see Streak's oncoming hand.
"Don't even start in with that kinda bullshit, Jason." he snapped. Bluestreak pulled his hand back, wincing a bit. "At least if I was in the car right now, or rather, spread out /with/ the car right now, you guys could explain this. But like this? 'Floyd, how did this happen?' 'Oh, funny story dad, one of Jason's fucked up friends told us to leave the car as bait for a psychopathic GHOST TRAIN'!!!"
His voice echoed, and his entire body was clenched, shaking. A drip of blood trickled down from his forehead and cheek and settled in the corner of his mouth. He relaxed completely and started laughing, almost too hard to be deemed sane.
There was a slight breeze, a few leaves kicked about. Bluestreak stepped up behind and put a hand on his shoulder. "Floyd," he started, his voice weak.
"Leave me alone, Jason. This is not a good time for me," he said with angry sarcasm. Bluestreak lifted his hand and stepped back, but called his name again.
"Floyd," he said insistantly, taking a few more slow backward steps. Floyd spun around and stood up, glaring at Bluestreak.
"What?!" he yelled. "What could you possibly do or say that could remedy this situation? Anything?! I didn't think so! Now you and your crazy little fuckbrain friends can go tottle off to whatever other pain and pandemonium you plan to cause this evening, and let me stay here and gaze in shock at the omen that doth declare I have a short and bloody future when I next see my father!! You're pals are already trying to walk away as it is!"
And with that, Floyd turned back to his wreckage, only when he sank down and looked ahead of him, it was not mangled car parts that he saw, but a pair of old, scuffed up brown boots. This was new. Slowly, he looked upward. He saw the ragged old jeans; the frumpled violet-pink, puce-like colored button-up shirt; the purple bandana tied around the neck; the gnarled, angry, half flesh-ridden face, with what skin was left being a gray-purple color, and the tall, dark gray engineer's hat. Behind the figure, the train sat motionless. He was scared shitless.
"Who's your daddy now, scum fucker?" asked the Engineer. He grabbed Floyd by the collar and pulled him close, so that Floyd's nose was only inches away from where the tip of the Engineer's nose would've been, had it not been decayed already. "You got a bloody future alright, boy!" He began to laugh and started to lift Floyd by the collar, but Bluestreak, in his infinite wisdom, speared the Engineer in such a way that Edge himself would be proud. The Engineer doubled down, releasing Floyd, and falling right on his back.
"Yes!!" I screamed, throwing a fist in the air.
"Get the fuck outta there!!!" screamed Tin. We had, of course, made plenty of space between us and the tracks. Bluestreak hopped up from his tackle.
"Let's go!" he yelled. But it was only now that Floyd's brain was clear enough to allow him to scream, which was he started to do. The Engineer had already started to stand, when Blue grabbed Floyd by the arm and yelled "Move it!". Thankfully, it registered that time, and Floyd took off with Bluestreak leading the way. The Engineer stood up fully and watched us all b-line it around the bend. We could hear him laughing for at least a quarter mile further, wether it was the echo or just him being that strong winded.
Once we stopped hearing him, we all slowed down, weak and scared. Floyd fainted. We were all sweating and out of breath, Bluestreak knealing in the right lane of the road, Tin holding Floyd in a sitting position, and me bringing up the end of the group, just beside the road. We knew there was no way we could run any more, especially if we had Floyd's dead weight to take along. Even trackboy Bluestreak was no good to run.
That's when we heard it.
Cliffhanger No. 2 already! I just can't get enough!. >:) Hope you guys are enjoyin' this.
--Twisted Zero (TwistedZero@thevortex.com)