The Engineer

By Twisted Zero

Published on Dec 26, 2002

Gay

The Engineer 2: Back on Track By Twisted Zero

Chapter 1:

I sat on Bluestreak's bed in a fair amount of anticipation. It had been a week since school let out, and he and I were going to go pick up Paul. See, Paul's parents were practically in love with Derrek for saving' their youngest from wandering the freeway after he and his brother were kidnapped'. What they didn't know, of course, was that neither Paul nor his older brother Reggie were kidnapped and that that was our cover-up of the logically unexplainable demise slash disappearance of Reggie, some seven months ago at the hands, as it were, of the Engineer.

Anyway, as I'm sure you can imagine, watching a train that isn't really there as it speeds through your brother and carves him into body cubes can have an adverse effect on you. Of course, Paul never actually said that he'd become introverted, edgy and inwardly tormented by such memories. In fact, he hardly spoke at all to his parents, usually responding to any contact with a blank stare, a nod, or some incoherent mumble. His parents were almost overly understanding, and passed it all off as trauma brought on by whatever he'd witnessed while kidnapped, though when asked, he'd always attest to being blindfolded the entirety of his capture.

It did, however, prove more than his parents could handle, and eventually, Paul was on his way to Tanglewood, a city-ish suburb of Velo City much like Riverwind, but on quite the opposite side. We all hated to see him go, especially Bluestreak, but things were the way they were. The reason he was going to Tanglewood in the first place was to go to the Prollins Institute in hopes of getting through his current state of affairs and back to good ol' Paul.

Naturally, Derrek would be the one to go and pick him up as soon as he was cleared for departure, because although Paul's parents loved him and wanted to be there for him at all times, they also knew how important Derrek was to both him and them. However, Derrek couldn't get anyone to fill in for him at work that day, so he asked Bluestreak to do the honors. Clearly, the offer was accepted.

As we all know, Floyd was Bluestreak's best friend and, as such, was the first person asked to accompany Streak on the friend retrieval mission. Unfortunately, Floyd had come down with a nasty stomach flu and was in no condition to be going anywhere but bed and the bathroom. So, without hesitation, it was me that Bluestreak asked to go with him, bringing us back to where we were about three paragraphs ago.

I'd gotten there about ten minutes early, and Streak had just gotten out of the bathroom after his shower. He let me in and lead me to his room, all the while dressed in only his multicolored plaid boxers. He also had, obviously, his legs.

It was fascinating to watch him walk around. I mean, I kinda hate to say that, because it sounds like I'm making a spectacle of him, but it was almost as if he hadn't lost anything. Heck, there were times when we'd be talking about something and he'd lean his shoulder agains a wall and swing one foot over the other in a very casual manner, and not be at all phased by the fact that he couldn't really feel his feet. The only thing different about his walking is that he now has to kick his legs out a bit when he walks, so that the portion of the legs below the knee joints will move out in front like they're supposed to.

Anyway, as we got into his room, he told me to sit on his bed and give him a few minutes to get dressed. I did as instructed, and couldn't help but watch him. He went to his closet right away and pulled out a blue button-up shirt and put it on, then reached into the bottom drawer of the dresser beside the door to his room, and pulled it open. He took from it a pair of slate grey cargo pants - the kind that have zippers at the knees, making them transformable into shorts. He took off the lower parts of his pants, then plopped into the desk chair that was conveniently behind him. Now, the top parts of his new legs went from the bottom of his thighs, formerly known as the middle of his knees, and came up about seven inches, cupping the lower half of his thigh. There were two straps per leg, used to hold them in place; one right at the top of the artificial leg, and another about two inches higher, the sides of which had strips that went straight down to the inn and outer sides of his thigh piece. He undid the straps on both legs then in an awkward way that was probably perfectly non-awkward to him, he put on the shorts version of his cargo pants. Then, after hooking his legs back into place, he zipped the pants back together and stood up, with his arms out in a `ta-da' fashion.

"God made cargo pants for me," he said, smiling. I couldn't help but chuckle at his declaration. My smile turned to a look of slight concern, though, as I saw him smirk and dangle the car keys in front of me. I'd heard he passed another driving test. I just didn't think it was serious.

It took about an hour and a half to get there, because not only did we have to drive half way through Riverwind and all the way through Velo, but the institute from which we were to pick up our friend was on the outskirts of the far side of Tanglewood. There was a small parking lot in front of the main entrance to the building with only three other cars parked in it, all in reserved spots. Streak parked us in an open, unmarked spot, and we got out, taking a second just to take in the sight before us. It was a large, brick building, set on a bit of a hill, so it seemed higher than the parking lot. It was a few yards back, with a small, swerving paved walkway leading to it from the parking lot. It was imposing, if that can be said of a building, even on that clear, sunny morning.

We got halfway to the building when a fairly tall kid in dark jeans and a black shirt came out of the big glass doors with a backpack slung over his shoulder. Bluestreak and I stopped right there. Paul got a few feet closer and waved to us. Streak waved back, but we were both a little surprised at how tall he'd gotten - heck, with how different he was in general. His head was a big change, from the near-buzz cut blonde of seven months ago to the jet black hair that at it's longest point came to the base of his neck in the back and at its shortest was just barely covering his eyes. He would've been scary, if he weren't Paul.

"You're all signed out?" I asked, as he came to a halt before us.

"Yup," he answered, "thank God for faxes."

"Well then, by all means," said Bluestreak, "Let us be off."

For the most part, the car ride was silent, but that was O.K. It wasn't an awkward silence or anything, it was just that after the initial small talk, we'd run out of things to discuss. That is, of course, until we got out of the car in Paul's driveway. He looked at his house for a second, then a strange look came over him; a nervous, strenuous look. He hesitated at first, then turned to me and Bluestreak, alternating between us.

"You guys," he started, "y-you beat him. Right? I mean, he's gone. For good." Streak and I looked at each other.

"We shut him down," said Bluestreak. "He put up a fight...but we shut him down." Paul exhaled and closed his eyes. And awful lot of tension got released from him right there. I guess coming back to where the bad things happened gave their memories a new burst of energy.

"Well, guys," he said, glancing quickly to his house then back to us, "Thanks for the ride, but I gotta feelin' things are gonna get mushy in there, so I'll have to give you a rain check on comin' in."

"Understood," said Bluestreak, smiling. We said our goodbyes and Streak and I were off. It was only one in the afternoon, so we had all day to do nothing, but Floyd was sick and Tin was the only one of us who'd put up the initiative to get a job within the first week of summer break, so he was at the Wal*Mart. Greeting, no less.

"So what's doin' today?" I asked of my driver.

"I don't know," he answered, a thoughtful tone in his voice. "Tino's party is tonight, but we have a while `til then." I kinda let out a pretty stiff, hiss-like sigh at that, getting a weird look from Streak. "What?" he asked, noting my hesitance.

"I don't think Tino likes me very much," I said with an almost apologetic look on my face.

"Why's that?"

"Because he snaps at me every time I'm late to the bus stop and nearly miss the ride." Bluestreak got a confused look.

"But you live at the bus stop," he said.

"I know," I added quickly, "that's why he snaps at me for it."

"Oh," was all he said. Then after a moment, he added, "Well, you have to go anyway."

"Yeah, I figured you'd say that."

"Hungry?" he asked, smiling.

"I could eat," I said, just as amused by the conversation as he was.


It was about eleven o'clock when we showed up at Tino's house. Me, Bluestreak and Paul: what a trio. We walked up the steps and into the house, past the ten or so kids on the porch and saw the inconceivable melee of teenagers that I had previously thought no house cold possibly hold. Fortunately, Becky spotted us right away and came running over. Before she got to us, I looked to my left and saw Derrek with his arm around Sheila and a cup in his other hand talking to another couple. He saw me and lifted his hand a bit and nodded at me. I just waved back.

"Hey, Jay", she said, overly happy to see us. She'd been there a while, if ya know what I mean. "Bluestreak," she said, acknowledging his presence. Then she looked at Paul. "And who is this sexay little man you have with you?" she asked, looking him up and down. Paul didn't blush or anything, but that's because I don't think he knew what to do at all. Becky was a bit over tipsy, and he was not getting an adequate first impression.

"This is Paul," I said, trying not to laugh. "He's our new friend."

"You're damn right he is," she said, checking him out again. "I'm gonna get another drink. You guys want anything?" she asked. We all immediately said `no'. Seeing the horny drunk that Becky was becoming had scared us all sober for the night. Becky spun around as well as she could and scampered off toward the kitchen, disappearing in the crowd.

"There's a loooot of people here," Paul muttered, mostly to himself.

"True," said Bluestreak. "In which case," he added, a smile growing on his face, "I think we should mingle!" And before Paul could protest, Bluestreak had an arm around him and was leading him away to meet a bunch of crazy people. I made my way through the enormous crowd of half-drunk kids and went downstairs. Tino had a big house, and the basement was where the pool tables, of which he had three, and the video games and pinball machines, of which there was a collective of nineteen, were located. When I finished decending the stairs, the first face I saw that looked at me was Tino's. He was just moving around the pool table closest to the stairs and making his shot strategy in his head when he looked up and saw me.

"Hey, J-Man," he said, his voice almost more professional than friendly. "Glad to see you could make it."

"Hey, I couldn't miss a Tino Tarelli party, now could I?" I asked, smiling and making my way toward his game.

"This is true," he said, taking aim and poising himself for his shot. "You do have a perfect record so far," he finished, then sent the cue ball rolling. There were five other guys standing around the table, and a sixth with the cue stick. After Tino's shot, which two of the other's blocked from my view, the guy with the stick closed his eyes and sadly hung his head. "That's three in a row," said Tino.

"In under an hour," mentioned a kid in a bright blue dress shirt with a big smile.

"You oughtta quit while you're behind, Franky," said one of the two that stood in front of me. As they laughed at Frank's consistant failures, Tino handed his stick to the kid in the blue shirt, then walked toward me.

"Hey, Jay," he said, quieter than he'd been talking, "You got a minute?"

At first I was surprised that he'd have anything to say to me privately, but hey, I figured he like me at all, so appearnatly I was way off to begin with. I said, "Sure," and he lead me upstairs and out the back door.

We stepped off the small back porch and into the grass, about halfway into his yard. He was about six or seven feet ahead of me when he stopped and looked up at the sky. He let out a heavy sigh.

"Jay, I know I can get really...uh...mean, I suppose," he started, still watching the stars. "But I want you to know, that's just the way I am, it's my sense of humor, in a way; so never take it seriously. Like when I gripe at ya `bout the bus stop." With that last comment, I could hear a smile in his voice, but then he looked at the ground and put his hands in his pockets, and I could tell the smile was gone. "Look..." he started again, "I know we don't know each other too well, but I gotta tell you somethin' that nobody will understand, with possible exception of you. That is, if I can trust you." He turned and faced me, a very serious expression on his face and his eyes shining from the light of the house. "I can trust you...?" he asked, though it was given like a statement. I didn't know what to say when the reality of everything he'd just said slapped me in the face. There was no way this kid was gay. I mean, he basically just prepped me for it, so I was ready to hear it, I guess, but why he chose to tell me over anyone else - and then that hit me too. I think my mouth fell open for a sec when the realization that Tino liked me "that way" overcame me, but I quickly snapped out of it, closed my mouth, and nodded.

"Good," he said, and stepped a little closer. "I need you..." he paused, and looked at his shoe as it scuffled on the ground. I couldn't help but smile at how cute this was. "I need you to tell me exactly what happened last year."

I looked at him blankly for a second, then said the only thing my brain could order: "What?"

"Look," he said, his eyes still glimmering in the lights from the house, "My mom took off a long time ago. My dad's all I got left. He's an engineer, Jay, and he runs the trains that run to and from the station. Now, he hasn't said anything, but Lyle and I went to get the kegs before the party and we got stopped on our way back at the tracks that are right by the store. The lights turned blue. I don't know how else to say it, but when the lights were off, they were red, but when they blinked on, they were blue. Then there was this rattling noise, like a train was coming, but nothing came. Then the bars went up and the lights quit. Seven months ago, when that shit started up on all the railways, I was scared as hell that I was gonna lose my dad. Then, thankfully, before the first week of it was over, they shut everything down. Then it all quit. I hear it was you and Derrek that did it, and that Streak helped, which is how he lost his legs. But a month later, when everything was still O.K., they turned everything back on, and I was havin' nightmares for about two weeks that my dad was gonna die. Well, I got used to it. Until tonight. That was some fucked up stuff, man, and I gotta know what happened."

Wow. I just stood there for a sec. I reached up and rubbed the back of my neck and let out a heavy sigh.

"This is gonna take a while," I warned.

"I got all night," he returned.

We walked over to the edge of his yard and leaned on the fence. After about three hours, I think I explained the majority of what we knew had happened, what we thought had happened, and what we had no clue how to explain. Yes, that makes sense.

"I don't think he was bluffing," said Tino, looking to the ground. I didn't want to think that way.

"It's possible. The guy surprised us at almost every turn. I wouldn't put it past him to do it again."

"We need to make sure," said Tino, still looking down.

"What?" I asked, a bit surprised. He looked at me, our eyes locking.

"Well, I have to check, anyway. I need to know that what I saw tonight was just...I dunno - an aftershock, I guess. I can't let anything happen to my dad. Tell me what I need to do to make sure this guy - this ghost - is really gone."

I didn't know what to say. I just stood there, staring at this brave, determined kid. I tried to say something, but when I opened my mouth, I couldn't think of anything, I stood there slackjawed for about ten seconds.

"Please, Jay," he said, softer than before. I sighed heavily.

"Uhh.... I dunno, dude," I told him, a defeated tone in my voice. "I honestly don't know." He hung his head and again looked to the ground. "I'm sorry, dude, I-"

"Take me there," he said, cutting me off. My eyes bugged out.

"What?"

"Take me to where he's buried. Please."

I looked at him. I could see the need in his eyes. And, against my better judgement, the next thing I knew, I was leading him through the crowded party house in search of Bluestreak and Paul. I found Streak near the front of the house, talking with about five other guys. I went up and put my hand on his left shoulder, getting his attention.

"Oh, hey, what's up?" he asked, happily.

"You been drinkin'?" I asked him. He held up the cup in his hand.

"Just the first half of this," he said. "Why?"

"Because I need a ride," I told him.

"Already? Whereto?" he asked, losing his smile.

"Salk Valley," I told him. His face dropped.

"What??" he asked, clenching the plastic cup so that it began slightly imploding on itself.

"You heard me, dude," I said. "I have to take Tino there."

"Everything O.K., man?" asked one of the guys he'd been talking to.

"Uh, y-yeah, man, everything's fine." Bluestreak then looked at Tino. "Do you have any idea what's in Salk Valley??"

"I need to go, man," was Tino's only reply. Streak must have sensed the same determination as I, and after looking at Tino for a few seconds, said, "Alright. Lemme grab Paul."

With that, Bluestreak headed toward the stairs on the left side of the living room and Tino and I left the house via the front door. We walked off the porch and down the driveway lined with cars until we got the Bluestreak's car. Minutes later, Bluestreak came out, followed closely by Paul. Tino and I got in the back, and about ten seconds later, Streak got in to drive and Paul got shotgun.

"So where we goin' in such a rush?" asked Paul. I looked to Bluestreak, but he kept his eyes on what he was doing.

"Um...Salk Valley," I said, as Bluestreak started the car.

"What?" asked Paul, in an `I know you didn't say what I think you said' tone as Bluestreak backed the car out of the driveway and aimed put the car in drive. "Don't worry," I said. "It's perfectly safe."

"Liar," mumbled Streak, and our journey began.


We travelled silently down the road. The trees lined both sides, and we all knew where we were. Only Bluestreak and I had been there before, but there was no doubt in my mind that Paul was terrified and Tino was at least a little nervous. The old wooden sign to the right of the road came into view. Bluestreak looked at it and stiffened up a little as he read it aloud: "Salk Valley," he said, then as he turned onto the old, abandoned dirt road he added, "O.K., guys, keep your eyes open. This is where the trip gets interesting."


It was 12:34 and Tin walked through the open front door of the house and gazed at the assortment of people that crowded the building. He recognized Derrek right away and walked over to him.

"Hey, man, what is up?" asked Derrek, in his half-drunk state. Tin just smiled at him.

"Not much, Derrek. How's it goin'?"

"Very well, thank you," replied Derrek. "Are you just gettin' here, man?"

"Yeah, someone called off at work and I had to cover for `im. You seen Javian?"

"Yeah, man," answered Derrek, trying to remember, "he, uh...he left about ten minutes ago, you just missed him."

"He left?" Tin repeated, a bit surprised. "Where'd he go?"

"Didn't say," said Derrek. "He an' Streak just took off with Tino and some blonde kid. Think he said is name was Paul, but I didn't really talk to im."

` Tin's heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

"Oh my god," he said.

"What?" asked Derrek, confused. "What's up?"

"I'll be right back," said Tin, and he bolted for the door. He could hear Derrek calling him, but he was already past the porch by the time it registered that he was doing so. Tin jumped into his car and threw dirt high into the air as he peeled out a pulled a j-maneuver in Tino's driveway.


Bluestreak's '86 Lincoln Continental was faring much better than I'd thought it might on such a crummy dirt path, and, though he was moving slowly and cautiously, we got to the clearing all too quickly. He stopped the car and we all just sat there, looking out the windows at our surroundings like children at the circus. That is, the kind of children that aren't sure if they're afraid of clowns, or not.

"Well, boys," said Bluestreak, in a raspy voice, "Let's go do what we came here to do." And with that, he opened his door. Paul gave him a quick `you're kidding, right?' look, but then followed suit, as did Tino and I. We exited the car and Paul shut his door.

"No," said Bluestreak, turning to him fast as lightning, then relaxing a bit. "Leave your door open." After a second's pause, he added, "You may wanna get in reeeal fast."

We stepped in front of the car and I walked up beside Tino. He looked at me.

"Where?" he asked, quietly. I turned my head to the left and pointed at the large, snake-like rock pile that covered the train and, therefore, the Engineer's body. Tino looked at it, took a deep breath and stepped toward it.

"Wait," said Bluestreak, perking up and instantly grabbing everyone's attention. "Did you guys hear that?" We all froze, perfectly still.

"Hear what?" I whispered after a few seconds. A second later, a quiet, barely audible rattle was heard from the direction of the dirt road. Bluestreak looked past his car down the road.

"There it is again," he said, just above a whisper.

"Yeah, I heard that," said Paul, his voice shaking.

"Oh, shit," was all I could say. The noise got louder; a steady, fast, metallic rumble. Then the light appeared in the distance. None of us said anything; I think we all knew that we all saw the light. But it wasn't for several seconds that we realized the lights we saw were too high to belong to a car.

About the time it was right in front of us, I yelled "Oh, shit!", repeating myself, but on a much louder scale. It was the Scream Engine, no mistake, but it was damn near entirely invisible, save for the two bright lights on the front. It even blasted its whistle right as I yelled, making my scream null and void against it's own. Other than screaming, however, all I could do in my sudden fear and lack of planning time, was to fold my arms over my head and brace myself for impact, as did Paul. Bluestreak panicked and slipped, falling backward, and Tino, still standing closest to the burial, stood entirely still, not looking as if anything out of the ordinary was happening: he was petrified.

The train blasted through the car and then through all of us, not doing any harm other than scaring the shit out of the four of us and dropping the temperature a good fifty degrees. It shot straight across the ground and drove right to the burial site, then the engine and its twenty-odd cars went right down into the ground, not hesitating an instant. When it was gone, the temperature went back up to where it belonged and all was still again.

After a moment, we all looked around. Sensing it was over, whatever "it" may have been, we eased up a little. Paul helped Bluestreak back to his feet.

"I thought you guys said he was dead," said Paul, in a calm, almost robotic tone.

"Trust us," said Bluestreak, "He is."

"O.K., I think I've seen what I came here for," said Tino, his voice shaking like nobody's business.

"Good," I said, then turned to Streak. "Let's get outta here."

"Yes, sir," was his response and we got in the car.

We all piled into the car with fervor. Bluestreak started it up and shifted to look over his right shoulder, beginning the process of backing down the path.

"What was that?" asked Tin, shaking a bit.

"That was the Engineer's train," I said. "He calls it the `Scream Engine'."

"Clever," said Tin, as Bluestreak continued down the path, gaining speed as he gained confidence that he could make it safely to the main road.For the next few minutes, we rode in silence, patiently awaiting the arrival of the road. But when it showed up, Bluestreak didn't slow down; instead, he sped out onto it just as quickly as he had been going up the path and swung the car into the proper lane. Unfortunately, Tin's car was at top speed, just ready to turn into the path and, startled by the appearance of the Lincoln, swerved off the road in the direction opposite the path, going straight into the ditch right in front of Bluestreak's car. Needless to say, there were shouts of surprise in both vehicles. After a second, we all got out of Streak's car and ran over to Tin's.

"Tin!" I shouted. "Are you O.K.?" I ran to his side of the car, but he was already out and in the process of shutting the driver door. His hand was on the back of his head and he leaned back, giving a "eee-uaaagh" noise as he stretched. He then said, in a voice more irritated than angry, "What the fuck are you guys doing out here?"

"Just checking up," I said. He gave me a very unsatisfied look.

"Why the hell is that necessary?" he asked.

"Hey, don't look at me," I said, "this was Tino's idea." With that, Tino stepped up and told Tin his reasoning behind our excursion.

"Alright, alright," said Tin, after hearing Tino's story. "Are you happy with what you found?"

"Umm...I'm not really sure," said Tino, thinking about it for a second. "But, um...I don't think so."

"No, Tino, I wouldn't say you are," said Bluestreak. At this, We all looked to Bluestreak and he looked at all of us, then to Tin. "We saw the train," he said. "It wasn't the same - it was almost completely clear, and it came at us like we shoulda been splattered, but it just blasted on through. I don't think he can hurt us, but I have a baaad feeling that it's a matter of time. Like he's just chargin' up, or something."

There was a slight pause in which we all took in Bluestreak's comment and just looked around at each other.

"Yeah, thanks for the pep talk, Streak," said Paul, looking up toward the trees and rolling his eyes, walking back to the car to lean against it. Tin sighed.

"Are you positive?" he asked of Bluestreak.

"Like a heart attack," said Streak. Tin looked at me with the same question in his eyes. I looked right back at him, unfaltering, and simply nodded.

"He's back," said Bluestreak. Tin sighed again, closing his eyes, and said "Yeah..." He then opened his eyes and looked down the path.

"He's back."


Stay tuned for the next exciting edition of "The Engineer 2: Back on Track"!

Next: Chapter 10: Back on Track 2


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