"The Engineer" by Twisted Zero
*************************************************************************** The Engineer (#7)
"Micheal Haley," he said, taking just long enough in saying the name to send chills up my spine. He moved across the room and sat down on the foot of my bed and held out a sheet of paper in front of him.
"Derailed in October of 1968, Micheal Haley was one of only five train-related deaths in the entire history of Riverwind. The others were all basicly normal, y'know, one guy had a heart attack while driving a train, just simple things like that, but this..." he shook his head, "this is the weird story you guys asked for. He was chuggin' along up in the hills, where it gets all steep and rocky for a while? And, I mean, he'd been runnin' that line for about two years, y'know, so he knew what he was doin'. Anyway, there was appearantly an explosion, or just a freak breakaway of, like, a million rocks, because something happened that they never quite explained. A bunch of land gave way under the tracks, the rails snapped, and his train went down. The area was charred pretty bad, but they don't know if that was from his train blowin' up, or what. Unfortunately, so much rubble went down with him that after digging about forty feet down, they gave up. It was taking so long, and the family just wanted closure, I mean, everybody knew it was down there. So, they stopped, gave a memorial service, and left it as is."
He flung the paper and it landed between us.
"That certainly is strange," I said, mostly to myself.
"Yeah, but does that really explain why he's back?" asked Tin.
"What?" asked Peter. I'd forgotten he didn't know what was going on.
"Oh, yeah," I said, nonchallantly, "the guy's back, and he's killin' people."
"What?!"
"All those railroad accidents?" asked Tin. "They're not accidents."
"Holy shit," said Peter.
"Yeah, right," I said. "Wait'll he gets you, /then/ you'll be screamin' that."
"You guys are lousy liars," he said, blowing it off.
"That's why we tell the truth, Peter," said Tin, rising from the bed.
"Where are you going?" asked Peter, watching as Tin got to the door and I, too, stood up.
"We're going the hospital to get Derrek," I said, meeting Tin at the door. Peter stood as well.
"What're we gonna do with him?" he asked. Tin and I glanced at each other.
"Um, we," I said, my thumb alternately indicating Tin and myself, "are going to fetch Derrek to tell him what you told us. We," I continued, spinning my hand around in the air, indicating all three of us, "are doing nothing."
"Well then, what do I do?" asked Peter, a little dejected.
"You are resident genius, Peter," I told him. "Go back downstairs and dig up anything you can find on this guy. Anything."
"Yeah," added Tin, "and see if anybody online knows how to kill a ghost."
We got to Bluestreak's room and his parents met us there. They went to the cafeteria for something to eat, though, when we arrived, which I think was very polite. This was the first time I'd seen him since his accident, and I noticed right away, as I suppose anybody would, that he still began at the top of his head, but he now ended at the bottom of his knees. I felt so bad for him, I started to cry right away, which, I admit, was bad show on my part; way to be strong, right?
"Oh, hey, man," said Bluestreak, his smile of greeting turning quickly into an ironic look of concern. "Come on, sit down," he said, motioning to the chair beside his hospital bed. "I'm O.K., man, really."
"I'm...I'm sorry," I said, holding my hands in front of my face in a weak attempt to hide my tears.
"Hey, it's O.K., man, I was upset, too, believe me--" he statred.
"No, it's NOT O.K.!" I shouted. "I gave up! Charlie and Becky came to me and I told them that I quit, that I didn't want any part of it, and you go.... You go charging into battle, and...." I just kinda trailed off, weakly waving a hand at the area where his legs used to continue to.
"So what?" asked Bluestreak. "It was either me or Sheila, and thankfully it was only my legs. And you're back, right? So there's no problem! I'm still here, man, it's not like I'm--" and he stopped right there. So did I. I think Tin froze in time. I slowly looked at Bluestreak, lying back on his bed, a look of regret and shock at what he was about to say plastered to his skull. "Oh, Javian--I--I am so sorry--!!"
I stood up and left the room. Not because he made me angry, but because I could feel the enourmous pain filling me up from the bottom of my guts, rising up and into my throat as I passed through the door. Tin got up and for a second they both watched me leave, then looked at each other.
"I--I didn't mean it--" started Bluestreak.
"I know, Streak, just...just wait a sec," said Tin, and he came after me. "Jay!" he called, seeing me bolt through a door marked "Restrooms". He half-jogged after me, and came in to the sound of me hacking into a toilet.
I heard him come in, but I wished he hadn't. I was miserable; I was crying my eyes out, and I just threw up, so I was fairly weak. All I could do was sit there, leaning against the stall, and cry. He came up behind me and knelt down.
"C'mere," he said, and, as I told you, I didn't really want anybody around, but I also didn't have the strength--oh, fuck it, I didn't give a damn what happened at that moment. He got on his knees and pulled me toward him, sideways. He wrapped me up in a very tight hug, his chin resting on my head. His left hand was rubbing up and down on my arm and his right simply held on around my stomache.
I tried to stop, tried not to make even more of a fool of myself, but the pain kept coming, and then the thought of Bluestreak, all alone now and probably feeling like he hurt me, made me feel even worse. So, instead of doing anything productive, I just sat there, letting Tin hold me against him...and cried.
Becky was already at school by the time Charlie had gotten to her house, so he decided to head to my house to let me know, as well as ask what he should do next. He came to the peak of a hill and hit his breaks. Down at the bottom, about a distance of sixty yards, a white car, a Marquis or an Ltd style make, was peeling out in reverse, trying to stop itself from being sucked onto the tracks.
Charlie threw the Python into gear and flew top speed down the hill, charging at the car. The road has a slope at about a 45 degree angle on both sides of the tracks, making a sort of gigantc speed bump. The white car was now about a foot away from the rails, and the train was coming non-stop.
Reaching about 125mph, Charlie slammed into the back of the white car, lifting its rear axle and spinning the car, as well as shoving it off the tracks; it landed still facing the railroad, but rolled back and bumped against a tree. Charlie's car was going so fast when it hit its target, the front end stopped, the back lifted, putting it at a nosedive position. And then, right there, at that crooked angle, the front bumper five feet above the ground and the rear one eight and a half....
Ka-boom.
No more Charlie.
The Scream Engine blasted right through it, an explosion of red and yellow flame starting as a ball where Charlie's car was, then becoming a ring, growing quickly, framing the train like a tunnel, and finally fading away, all in a matter of seconds. Over the booming explosion and the roar of the train, the Engineer's laugh could be heard, echoing across the rails.
There wasn't very much left, at least not much that was recognizable as part of Charlie, but they gathered what they could and had a closed casket service. It was clear day, and the sun was out, but the constant breeze kept it rather cool. We were all there: Me, Tin, Derrek, Peter, Sheila, Floyd. Father Breaker did the uligy, and Bluestreak was still in the hospital. My dad was with me; we'd made arrangements with Charlie's family to have his burial service right after my mother's, which I'm not going to go into right now, or...probably ever.
Seventeen more accidents had occurred on the tracks all through town, and people were afraid to go near them, as Riverwind's entire railroad system had been shut down since the day after Charlie's death. Both depots were closed down, as was the station for passenger trains. Nothing came in; nothing came out. Unfortunately, that didn't stop the Engineer from blasting in and out of wherever the hell he came from and mutilating a person or two.
He did succeed in scaring all of us away, though. Yeah, we were pretty much terrified of the tracks and whatever possibilities they held for our fates. As a matter of fact, the only one of us /not/ in some kind of emotional slump was Bluestreak. He was still bedridden, but only for a few more days. Soon, he was going to start physical therapy, and begin working with his new legs. The rest of us? Not quite so chipper. Becky was all locked up in her room, super guilt trippin' because she wasn't home when he came to see her, and if she had been then he wouldn't have gone back and been killed. Floyd was more scared than ever, and refused to talk to any of us except for Bluestreak, for fear that we might talk him back into something Engineer-related. Tin and I saw each other every day, but seldom in a cheery form, and every time either of us "accidentally" mentioned the Engineer, we'd change the subject, instinctively. Sheila wasn't talking to anybody either, not even Derrek--and he was the only person actually trying to reach anybody. Looking back, I feel bad for him, for the grief we all caused him, but there's nothing to be done about that now; we can't even tell him we're sorry...but I get ahead of myself again.
The night of the funerals, about nine o'clock, I stood at the tracks on Galiberry Road. After about ten minutes, there was a fairly strong breeze, and then the flashing archway, and finally the train came running through and slowed to a stop right in front of me. The Engineer hopped out and approached me, standing not five feet away, perfectly solid.
"You're a brave boy," he said, his voice low.
"I'm not going to try to fight you," I told him. His expression was still. "I need to know...I need to know what's going on. Why all this is happening." I did my best not to sound weak and desperate, two things which, at that moment, I very much was. His eyes narrowed, as if he suspected something more, something devious. But then he took a few steps back, toward the train and, still facing me, held an arm out toward the vehicle.
"This," he began, "Is what I like to call my Scream Engine. Kinda cheesy, perhaps, but just barely clever enough to keep me happy." He dropped his arm and returned to his previous position in front of me. "It, along with the kickass power you've seen me display, was given to me by...well, an independent figure, let's say. Now, much like any other vengeful spirit, I have a problem that is easily remedied, but only if the proper people care /to/ remedy said problem. I have, for lack of a better term, lived with this problem for nigh on thirty years, and was just recently given the power to nudge you people in the direction of fixing it."
"But why now?" I asked, almost starting to whine. "And why like this?"
"Who the fuck knows why now?!" he snapped. "I just know I've been lying there since 1968, nobody's ever bothered coming to get me, and then outta nowhere this guy shows up, /plus/ he offers to give me the tools to get this fucking town off its ass and do what needs done. The only catch is...I'm not gonna tell you fuckbombs what you're supposed to fix." At this point, he stepped closer, holding his fingertips to his chest, indicating to himself. "See, the reason I'm killing all of you inbred guttermonkies is that you've forgotten--completely cleansed your brains of the single most /interesting/, if nothing else, event in this pathetic little town's history, and gone on with your happy, fucking lives. Well guess what, kid: I didn't. I didn't forget, and most certainly did NOT get to go on with my happy...fucking...life."
He was currently looking down at me, as he had slowly made his way to about six inches in front of me, his angry face leering down at mine. Oddly enough, he was breathing; huffing, anyway, because I could feel his warm "breath" against my forehead.
"Now," he began, "You have five seconds to walk away before I start to kill you."
We stood there for a moment, my defiance being taken over by a compelling feear, in record time, I might add, and just before I stepped to leave, I sort of leaned up to him and said, "See you later." He smirked, but when I turned away, I was aware of another healty gust of wind, and when I turned, both the train and the Engineer were gone. I turned away again and with the sudden blast of a train whistle, I screamed and jumped about fifty feet into the air. After I landed, I heard his laugh echoing through the sky, and I sulked back home.
I watched the sidewalk the whole way home; well, from Harper Street, anyway, because that's where the sidewalk started. Anyway, I didn't look up until I reached the crosswalk that lead to the corner my house was on, and I only looked up because I heard my name being yelled. It was Floyd, wearing a green T-shirt and normal blue jeans, standing on our little porch, thumping our door with his fists and calling for both me and my father. I quickly checked the road and jogged across the street. He must've not heard me approaching, because when I grabbed his shoulder and said his name, he spun around like lightning and slammed his back against the door, a yelp of shock escaping his mouth at the same time.
"Javian!" he said, huffing as put his hand on my shoulders.
"What's wrong, man?" I asked, very concerned, to say the least.
"Tin," he started. "We...we were...Becky called...so we had to go see 'er..."
He was downright panicking.
"Floyd!" I said, getting him to stop. "How did you get here?" I asked, as there were no cars parked near the house. He suddenly got very serious, and was perfectly still.
"I ran."
The Engineer stood on the rail closest to Tin's side of the road, looking upward at the suspended teenager. Tin was floating, his feet at the same level as the Engineer's face, but about four feet in front of him. A powerful but slightly dim greyish light was emitting form both of them. Tin was also about half asleep, floating there, his appendages splayed out in all directions, though loosly suspended. The Engineer growled happily.
"So, Batboy, we meet again," he said, stepping off the rails and becoming solid again. He continued, slowly meandering a few feet into the road. "Y'know, I gotta commend ya, you gotta helluva swing. But my backspin can beat the shit outta your follow-through, any day."
Instantly, three of those X-shaped railroad crossing signs appeared to either side of the floating Tin. He noticed them, and sobered up entirely. But when they began a buzzsaw speed backspin, he got a little worried.
"I see I've got your attention," stated the Engineer.
O.K., so technically I stole my dad's jeep, but he was asleep in the house and the keys were in it, and I didn't have time to ask him if I could borrow his wheels. Sue me.
"There 'e is!!" shouted Floyd, as we made the last curve on Galliberry Road before the tracks. His statement was less than necessary, since the two glowing figures before us were plainly visible, but at the time, it was simply reflex. We pulled to a stop and just as we reached for the handles, the Engineer looked right at us, with anger on his face.
"No!" he shouted, "Not this time!", and with that he pointed his left index finger right at us, causing one of the most interesting things to ever happen to me, personally, in my entire Engineer-fighting career; See, without a flash, or the slightest noise, or even a physical, nerve-tingling sensation, Floyd and I were suddenly staring at the oncoming train. Rarely do Floyd and I scream "Fuck" in unison, but the instant before we bailed out of the Jeep, we did just that. Before either of us hit the ground, the Jeep was decimated, a large blast of fire erupting from it, but as the entire train engine passed through it, the flames went out. Oddly enough, gasoline was still sprayed everywhere, indicating none of it had burnt up.
"Put him down!" I shreiked, getting to my feet. The crossing signs were shredding his shirt in four places; two in his middle back and two on the front of his shoulders. The other two signs were slashing at the sides of his knees. I ran to the Engineer, and tackled him at his waiste. All I can figure is that he thought Floyd and I were dead in the Jeep, because he was sure as hell surprised when he looked back at me as he fell to the road. Unfortunately, I hadn't computed in my head that Tin was a lot higher above the ground than the Engineer, and when the ghost's concentration was broken, the signs stopped spinning, and, along with my boyfriend, fell to the ground.
I closed my eyes when I saw that I was about to hit the pavement with the Engineer, and held tighter to his legs. The road hit us, and then I heard Tin and the signs land, and looked up to see him. Somehow, I didn't notice that I didn't see the Engineer.
"Why won't you die?" snarled the Engineer.
"Hypocrit!" cried Floyd, standing behind him, right in front of the tracks.
We both looked at him, but the Engineer lifted a hand toward him. Floyd was instantly pushed back, onto the tracks, and then disappeared with the train that came for him, faster than lightning. The Engineer looked back to me.
"See?" he asked. "It's that easy."
Tin was struggling to get up, barely making it to his hands and knees, but his shirt was all but ripped off and he was bleeding pretty well. His knees didn't look too good, either. Lots of red.
"We...we know who you are," I stammered, slowly crawling backwards, staring up at my would-be murderer. The train returned, blasting past again, as he responded.
"Oh, do you, now? It's about fuckin' time, kiddo. Now, what do s'pose we do--OOOaaauuhhh!!!"
See, right at the end of the word "do", he was peirced from behind with some crazy-ass psycho pitchfork deal, and doubled over at the pain. As he stumbled down, Floyd stood behind him, dusty, charred, and with this totally freaked helmet/face mask thing and a weird black chest/shoulderpad get-up.
"You would not be-LIEVE where that train goes," he said, a look of pure astonishment in his eyes. As I'm sure with you, a million questions shot through my head at that moment, the most repetative of them being "What the fuck is this shit?!", but I couldn't really speak to easily. Floyd pulled his pitchfork thingy out of the Engineer, helped me up, and together we lifted Tin to his feet. Behind us, the Engineer stood up, the four holes emitting a bright, bluish-white light, and he stumbled back to the rails, catching the safety rail on the last car, and disappearing with the train.
"Where's his car?" I asked, without too much thought.
"Where do you think?" answered Floyd, glancing at me and quickly jolting his head backtoward the tracks. I looked back and saw what used to be the license plate of Tin's car, sitting off to the side of the road by the tracks.
"...It was about to smash me, no doubt about it," continued Floyd, sitting on the chair by Bluestreak's hospital bed. "But just then something pulled me back, and then it was like...time sorta...stopped, or something. I got the idea to grab a bar on the side of the engine and then everything went back to 'normal speed'. It was like a dream, man."
Bluestreak was sitting up, looking right at him. Derrek was leaning over the other side of Bluestreak's bed, doing the same, while the newly bandaged Tin and I sat against the wall across from them. Because of the length of the cuts on his front and back, plus the fact that his shirt was in tatters as it was, not to mention blood-soaked, he had discarded it completely. His jeans had been cut off at the knees to allow for the bandaging around them.
"So where's this stuff now?" asked Derrek.
"At Jay's house. Thank God his dad was still asleep. He's gonna be pissed about his jeep."
"This is true," said Tin, looking to me.
"But what was it like?" asked Derrek, still interested in Floyd's story.
"Dude..." started Floyd, "It's the kinda thing--" he began, but was interrupted by the sudden slam of the door swinging open and hitting the wall. We all looked up, to see Father Breaker standing in the doorway.
"Jason Riley," he asked, but it came out as a statement.
"Yeah?" asked Bluestreak, warily. Father Breaker was sounding a bit ominous, and his mysterious entrance was fitting. I was almost waiting for the flash of lightning behind him and the distant whinney of terrified horses. Didn't happen, though.
"You saved my daughter's life," he said.
"Well, yeah, I guess so," said Bluestreak.
"You faced hellacious odds," Father Breaker continued, "and put another before yourself. Your work is done against this foe. But as for the rest of you..." here, he looked around the room, purposely making eye contact with all of us. "...I'm afraid I must ask you for help."
Floyd's jaw dropped.
"I know it's asking a lot, I understand that you've had several encounters with the...'person' responsible for the general lockdown of our town, but if anyone is able to stop him, I feel it would be you four."
"What makes you say that?" asked Derrek.
"My daughter," he said, plainly. "She does talk to me, you know."
"And what does she say?" I asked, unintentionally cynical.
"That her boyfriend took a hit from some type of electric shock, and still managed to drive his friend to the hospital..." Here, Derrek actually blushed. "...That Quentin stood up and smashed the creature's head in with a baseball bat."
"That /was/ pretty cool, man," said Bluestreak, smiling, and drawing one from Tin as well.
"That Floyd, no matter how much he fears the consequences, will assist his friends to fight him."
We all looked at Floyd who shot his eyes to the floor.
"And that Javian is quite possibly the bravest young man on the planet."
"Well, he /is/ goin' out with Tin, so I guess she's right," said Derrek, grinning. Tin and I stared at him instantly, our eyes bugging out of our skulls. We never said anything to anybody, not even kissed in front of anyone, and we both knew we were thinking just that. "What?" he asked. We couldn't say anything. "Oh, O.K., fine, you're not a couple. I don't notice when my two oldest buds hook up. Wink, wink."
"Getting back to the point," continued Father Breaker, sounding as if he'd like to change the subject to either get the pressure off Tin and I or just get back to the topic, "there are things we must discuss; namely, who this being is, why he's returned to this world, and what we can do to make him leave. But first...are you willing to help me?"
We all looked around at each other, none of us sure if we should speak up. Then, I figured, 'why not?'.
"Sure," I said. "I'm in."
"Very brave," said Derrek, strongly, "I'm in, too. I owe that guy one helluvan ass-kickin'."
"If I can bring my bat, I've got nothin' to worry about," said Tin.
"Oh, what the heck," said Floyd, starting to smile. "Everyone else is goin'--I am /not/ staying home."
"Good," said Father Breaker, smiling happily at us all.
"C'mon, c'mon!" muttered Sheila, turning the key in her mother's white, 1998 Ford Taurus. Not a very cool car, but it ran very well. For a Taurus. She was on a backroad --Riglam, I believe -- but Becky had just called her, wondering what was going on with Floyd and Tin. They hadn't shown up in about three hours since she'd called them, and she was getting increasingly worried. Now Sheila's car had stalled, on a road surrounded by trees, and not a single car had come by in ten minutes. She gave up on trying to start the car and sat back in the seat, a lock of hair falling in front of her face, and being tossed upward as she let out a sigh in blow form. After a moment, she started going through her purse, rifling around, until she located the black and yellow cell phone. She'd just grabbed it and pulled it out when she heard something very...well, unnerving.
"Sheila," said the voice. Well, it was more of a whisper. Then again, it sounded more like wind, anyway. Must be here imagination getting to her. She dialed Becky's number and listened to both rings.
"Sheila..."
O.K., that one was way too clear. In the middle of the third ring, Becky picked up.
"Hello?"
"Becky!"
"Sheila? What's up, why aren't you here yet?"
"Sheeeeeilaaaaa..."
"Oh God, Becky, my car stalled and there's somebody outside. I can't see anyone, but he keeps whispering my name, and I don't see any sign of the guys anywhere."
"Shit--hold on, what road are you on?"
"Riglam," she said, looking out each window alternately, trying to find her appearant admirer.
"O.K., I'm taking dad's car, I'll be there in, like, ten minutes, tops." and with that, the conversation was over.
"Becky? Becky?! Shit! I don't know if I /have/ ten minutes, Becky!"
But she had already hung up, and Sheila knew it. Hopefully, whatever or whoever it was would stay away 'til then.
Father Breaker sighed. "I remember that day. I was only about your age--probably younger. They never did explain what caused the innitial derailing, but they never exumed the body, either."
"Oh, well, no wonder we've got a fuckin' kill fest on our hands!" shouted Derrek.
"Language," warned the preist.
"Well, I'm sorry," started Derrek, "but unexplainable deaths and improper burials are the top two reasons to come back from the dead! And--oh, my God--the only unexplainable railroad accident in history here, and nobody thinks about a connection between that and the haunted fucking railroad?!"
"It was over thirty years ago, boy," said Breaker, "and watch your language."
Derrek gave an exasperated 'gaah' and turned toward the wall, almost frustrated enough to punch it.
"Calm down, man," said Bluestreak. "Just relax."
"How?!" Derrek asked.
"You mean you /still/ don't know what you're supposed to do?" asked Blue, in total disbelief. He then gazed around the room, and finally sighed in defeat as he realised that none of had a clue. "O.K., I'll tell you," he said, wiping a hand across his face, "but I really shouldn't have to. First of all, let's reveiw: Micheal Haley, twenty-two years old, derails mysteriously in a deadly accident and it burried under tons of rock. Now he's back, because he's fairly upset. Now, we have a preist and four young vigilantes here, who are going to locate the area where the train, and most importantly, Mike's body, are buried, and sanctify the make-shift grave that he's in. Duh."
"I hate not seeing things like that," Harry muttered. "Last rites, and all."
"Yeah, that'll bite ya pretty hard when you're not lookin', huh?" stated Bluestrak.
"Absolutely," said Father Breaker, rising to his feet. "Well, gentlemen. We've got work to do."
"I'm sorry to bother you, Kathy, but I saw your living room lights were on and I figured you were up."
"It's no trouble, Ed. What can I do for you? Please, come in."
"Thanks," said my dad, and entered her house. "I had a bit of a bad dream, earlier. I went to get a drink and saw that Jay's room was empty and when I looked outside, I saw my Jeep was gone, too. I thought maybe he came over here...but I guess not."
"No, he's not been here tonight," said Kathy. "I'd ask Sheila if she'd heard anything, but she's gone to a friend's house about half an hour ago."
"Do you know which friend it was?" he asked.
"Mmm, I won't swear to it, but I think it was Rebecca."
"Thank you, Kathy." he said, and headed back out the door. "I've got to go, I'll see you later--give my best to Harry."
"Of course, dear."
And with that, my father returned to the cab he had waiting outside and got in.
"Get me to three thirty-five Sheldon Street," he ordered. "--and don't cross any train tracks!"
"Yes sir," said the driver, and away they went.
About seven minutes and two stoplights into the ride, my dad started getting impatient.
"Hey, you know a quicker way of gettin' there?"
"This is the straightest shot, but I know a longer stretch with less stops and much less traffic, especially this time of day," said the driver.
"Then get to it, pal, this is an emergency."
"Absolutely, cheif--Riglam Road, here we come!" said the driver, and he sped up and took a sudden left turn onto a no-line road.
Minutes later, and Becky pulled off to the side of the road just ten feet ahead of Sheila. She got out and walked up to the driverside door and tapped on the window. Sheila was in lala land, but snapped out of it when she heard her friend's arrival, and rolled the window down.
"Hi," she said. "Sorry, I kept hearing this voice, and I kinda zoned out, trying to ignore it."
"What voice?" asked Becky, fairly concerned.
"Sheeeeeilaaaaaa..." came the echo, but this time deeper, like if James Earl Jones were whispering and talking at the same time. I know, my similies are getting less and less effective.
"O.K., let's get outta here, then," Becky suggested, and just as they stepped toward her dad's dark grey Tahoe, they stopped and watched the yellow car near them come to a halt. My father got out, told the driver to wait, and cautiously walked up to the girls. "Sheila? Is that you?" he asked failing to make distinction, what with Becky's Tahoe's lights still on, and in his direction..
"Yeah...Mr. Verreaux??" she said, sounding completely mystified. "What're you doing here?"
He stepped up close enough to see her, as well as recognize who Becky was.
"I'm looking for Javian," he said. "He left without saying anything--he even took my jeep--do you know where he is?"
"Not a clue," she answered.
"He might be at the hospital with Bluestreak," said Becky.
There was a slight breeze, knocking a few more dried out leaves off of the trees.
"No, I called there already, that was my first, too. Jason's asleep, and he's been alone for quite some time."
"Then we'll just call everybody until someone answers," she suggested.
"Not at this time of night," he told her. "We'll just have to stop around and see who's driveway my jeep is hiding in."
There was another gust of wind, one that seemed perpetual, and then that erie sound of metal bending and scraping against more metal. And then a "ch-shhhhh" kinda sound, just over the wind.
"Oh, shit," he said, and jogged back to the cab. "Hey, we didn't cross any tracks on the way here, did we?"
"No, sir," said the driver, "I took it like you meant it. If you take this road all the way down to where it crosses back into town, you still don't cross any tracks. Then, it's three more intersections, and you're at your road."
My dad looked ahead at the bewildered girls and then back to the driver.
"There's no tracks anywhere around here?" he asked.
"Well, I didn't say /that/," said the driver. "See those trees along the left side of the road?" he asked, gesturing with his thumb.
"Yeah?" my father said, warily.
"'Sabout five feet of trees, and then there's an old line for one of the depots, but I don't think they use it any more."
"Shit," my father muttered, standing up and facing Becky and Sheila. "Girls," he called over the wind and a terribly familiar dull hum, "I think you'd better come with me!"
"I sai--" he started, but didn't have time to finish. He saw the flicker of the two lights on the front of the train and ran toward the girls. They looked back behind them in time to see the psychotic hell train burst through the relatively thin lining of trees and swing across the road at such an angle so as to tear off the front of the Tahoe and then hookshot into the woods and lower bank on the other side of the road, causing itself to come to a complete stop.
The girls were both backed up into my dad, and the driver was staring ahead, surprised, to say the least. The Engineer opened a large door on the back of the engine and hopped down. He dusted off his pants for a moment, then stopped and looked up.
"Sheila!" he exclaimed, New Yorker accent and all, "wassamatta wichoo, givimee da silen' treatment like 'at?"
"Get in the cab, get in the cab!" said my dad, and they willingly obliged.
"Remember," said the Engineer, his normal voice returning, and an indifferent look on his face. My dad -- well , first of all, my dad was perfectly willing to say that something bad and wrong was going on with the whole railroad situation. He's never been a skeptic with ghosts and stuff. But just like anybody else, when he actually /saw/ the creature that he was sure existed, it took him by total surprise and he went into this weird trance kinda thing.
"They say the Devil lit the match," said the Engineer, a scowl now becoming his face.
"When Micheal Haley jumped the tracks." my dad finished.
The Engineer stepped toward him, slowly, and then said, in a low, ghoulish voice: "This is my Scream Engine."
The cab driver floored the gas and had the car turned around, then honked the horn several times, while the girls were yelling for my dad to get in the cab. He snapped out of it, and had this look of a dawning realization, but walked, although a bit staggeringly, back to the cab. He got in and they took off, but when they looked back, the train was gone. The Engineer stood there for a moment, but they soon saw him trek through the hole in the woods and then he was gone.
**************************************************************************** Will Ed, Becky and Sheila find Javian and the others? Do the guys have what it takes to fight off the Engineer long enough for Father Breaker to sanctify his resting place? Where the hell did the train take Floyd, ad how the fuck did he get that crazy shit?!
Find out, in the next ex-CITING chapter of..."The Engineer"!!
--Twisted Zero (TwistedZero@thevortex.com)