The Sudrian Saboteur
Chapter 3: The Saboteur strikes again
Over the course of the week, Derek became a common sight along the Little Western. The Clayton diesel worked hard and enjoyed his time on the costal Branch Line, especially when he got to work with Rachel. She would tell him all sorts of fascinating little facts and figures about the Little Western. But all too soon, Derek would have to return to his post as Utility Engine.
The day began pleasantly cool for summer, and Derek woke up fresh as a daisy. After exchanging morning pleasantries with his shed mates and their crews, he purred away, ready and eager to take an early order of fish to Knapford Harbour. After collecting the vans, he set off.
Once he arrived, Derek left his fish vans where instructed, and set off toward the station itself, where he was meant to pick up a load of coal for the small engines.
As Derek arrived at Knapford, he heard the distinct sound of a train fast approaching.
"Ooh! The 'Comet' is coming!" Philip honked his horn in delight as a large Standard 5 Locomotive painted dark green with orange stripes thundered in, an impressive line of eight coaches trailing behind.
"Good morning, Knapford! Make way for the Vicarstown Comet!" She shouted, gently braking and gliding into the station, coming to a graceful stop and blowing her shrill whistle.
"Hello, Maggie!" Colin greeted the Standard 5, shunting three green Bulleid coaches onto the next platform just as Thomas backed down into the station with his two coaches, Annie and Clarabel.
"Morning, Maggie," the tank engine smiled.
"Hello, Colin, Thomas," Maggie returned. She then eyed the green coaches Colin had shunted.
"Cor. Who's the poor sod today?" Maggie asked.
Derek was rather confused. From what he understood, passenger trains were coveted among engines on this island. Why would those particular coaches cause such a negative reaction?
He asked Thomas about it.
"Those coaches are for the football special, Derek," he explained, "They're unpleasant trains to pull because of the football fans who ride in them. They tend to be very rowdy and sing rude and loud."
"That's an understatement, Thomas," James grumbled as he backed down onto the football train, "These...hooligans vandalize everything in there path! And don't get me started on their antics once they start drinking! Or their language!"
The other engines sympathized, sans Derek, who was still puzzled. That puzzlement quickly changed to sympathy as a horde of screaming passengers swept through the platform.
The Fat Controller came out with two security officers to ensure there would be no trouble.
"Come on, come on, onto the train!" he urged, as the fans, still raising quite a racket, piled into the coaches.
The Fat Controller wiped his brow and sighed. "Good luck today, James."
"HURRY UP OR WE'LL MISS KICKOFF, YOU PILE OF SCRAPIRON!"
"Thank you, Sir," James sighed in resignation, "I'm going to need it."
The signal clunked to green, the guard blew his whistle, and James puffed out of the station with his passengers still screaming bloody murder behind him.
Sodor's number 5 headed down the line, wondering just how long it would be before these fans made him go deaf.
"Phew. Any longer at the platform, and we might've had a riot on our hands," his driver said.
"Just wait until we have to stop and pick up more passengers," the fireman put in, "then those vandals really WILL tear the coaches apart."
"Oh, come on, Marcus, these'll be short stops all the way through," the driver countered.
"Assuming our path stays open, Charlotte," James added.
Fortunately for James and his crew, their path would stay open for their entire journey, but, unfortunately, the fans changed their attitudes not one bit. They stopped at every station all the way to Wellsworth, where the big game was to take place. Arriving at the station in question, the fans disembarked and made their way toward Wellsworth Stadium.
"Hello, James! You look exhausted," Edward commented.
"Not half, Edward," James groaned, "It's like hauling a train of angry livestock, with all the noise those gits make!"
"Hey, mates!" greeted Eric, the number 12 engine and dedicated shunter and bank engine of Wellsworth, "What's the matter, James? You look like you found a penny and lost a pound!"
"Football train," James moaned as his coaches were uncoupled.
"It can't be that bad, can it?"
"It most certainly can for big games like these, Eric," Edward answered as James puffed over to the water tower to top up.
After letting Gordon pass through with the express, Eric shunted the football coaches into the yard, then arranged James's next train while the red engine took on more coal. The train in question was a line of various empty wagons.
"So, where's this lot going?" Eric asked.
"Kellsthorpe Road," the stationmaster answered, "They'll be delivered to the various industries along the Kirk Ronan Branch Line."
"Wonderful," James muttered as he backed down onto the train.
"Aww, cheer up, James!" Eric smiled, "If you're lucky, you might get a chance to see Molly!"
"Wh-what does that have to do with anything?!" James spluttered, his cheeks turning a faint red.
"He's just making an observation, James," Edward put in, "Out of all the engines on Emily's branch line, Molly is the one you get along with the most."
"What's that mean? Obser...obser...?"
"'Observation,' Eric. And I'll tell you later," Edward answered with a patient smile.
"Okay!" Eric grinned, then turned his attention to James, "You're all set, James! Want a push up the hill?"
"That'd be great!" Charlotte called from James's cab.
"Tops!"
Eric's fireman made sure that the V3 tank engine was not coupled up before returning to his cab.
"Ready, James?" called Eric.
"Ready!" James called back, irritated, but determined.
With a toot of their whistles, the two engines rolled out of the station to tackle Gordon's hill.
Edward smiled as he pulled into the yard to turn around. It hadn't even been a full year and Eric had already taken to his position as banker with admirable zeal. Edward wasn't one to think poorly of his fellow Sudrians, but he couldn't deny that Eric's intelligence left a lot to be desired.
Still, he supposed that was why he worked so well as a dedicated shunter and banker. After all, banking was simple enough, and his crew were the patient sort who could explain the more complicated aspects of shunting.
Edward collected his coaches and pulled up to the platform, waiting for Bear to arrive with the local. It wasn't long before a horn was heard in the distance, and soon, the Hymek diesel in question crested the hill with Eric pushing behind. Pulling into the station, Bear braked to a gentle halt.
"Hello, Bear," Edward greeted as a handful of passengers disembarked from the local either to catch a bus or board his train.
"Hello, Edward," Bear grinned back, just as his engine growled loudly, causing Edward, Eric and several people to cringe from the noise. Bear blushed.
"Sorry!" He called. Edward smiled.
"It's quite alright, Bear. Your name just wouldn't quite suit you if your engine was quiet all the time."
Bear laughed. "You do make a good point! By the way, Edward, have you heard the news?"
"Not yet, why do you ask?"
"Douglas is due to return to work tomorrow!"
"Really? That's great!" Eric chimed in, running around and back into the yard.
"It certainly is!" Edward agreed.
"And Donald and Lily are due to pay him a visit today, from what I hear," Bear added, waiting for his signal, when his face suddenly fell.
"What's the matter, Bear?" Edward asked.
"Nothing. Just the circumstances that led Douglas to the works in the first place. You heard the official report?"
Edward became serious. "The cause was determined to be sabotage, yes."
"Do you suppose this saboteur will take another crack at us?"
"Difficult to say, Bear. For all we know, this person could simply have a vendetta against Douglas and his crew, or it could extend to our entire railway."
Eric wanted to ask what a vendetta was, but felt it wasn't the time.
Just then, the signal dropped to green, and Bear was off with a toot of his horn and a growl of his engine.
The last passengers boarded Edward's train, and as the blue engine waited for his signal, he saw an unusual sight. Donald and Lily were traveling light engine along the line toward Crovan's Gate.
"Bear was right," Edward mused to himself as his signal turned green.
Edward blew his whistle and set off onto his branch line.
Meanwhile, at Crovan's Gate Steamworks, Douglas was being given his final examinations, with Victor the Cuban narrow-gauge engine overseeing them.
"Well, I have good news, my friend," he smiled, "Now that you've had your damaged parts fixed and replaced, all that's needed now is a firing to test you. Should you pass, you'll be clear to go!"
"Ach aye. Thank ye, Victor," Douglas smiled, "Ah cannae wait tae got back tae wurk again."
"Hey, boss!" Kevin the crane called from the Steamworks entrance, "Douglas has some visitors!"
"Show them in, Kevin!" Victor called back.
"Sure, boss!"
Douglas was soon greeted by the sight of Donald and Lily, both of whom seemed to be immediately overcome with relief at the sight of Douglas, who looked as though his accident had never happened.
"'Ey there, Dougie."
"Hi, Douglas."
"'Ey there, Donal. Hi, Lily," Douglas beamed, "How's th' Little Western bin daein' wi me gone?"
"We've managed. Th' Fat Controller brooght in a diesel named Derek tae fill in fur ye. Ah hav tae say, fur a diesel, yon Derek's nae a bad sort av engine."
"That, coming from you, Donald, is high praise, indeed," Lily giggled, "Still, they've missed you up there. I've missed you."
"Ah know, loove," Douglas smiled, "Ah've missed al' av ye, too. How've ye been on Thomas's Branch Line?"
"I've been well. The goods work hasn't really changed. I still have to show Percy a thing or two about handling certain trucks, and Mavis appreciates my company in her shed at night."
While Douglas chatted with Donald and Lily, Victor had gone to the front of the works, where Peter Sam had arrived with a supply train.
"Hi, Victor! I've brought you the supplies the workmen asked for!"
"Ah, thank you, my friend," Victor smiled as D261, also known as 'Dominic,' rumbled up the line with a long, heavy goods train.
The class 40 didn't say anything, save for a respectful toot of his horn as he passed. He had been purchased by the North Western Railway a few months ago to act as a heavy goods engine, as he had finally let go of his hatred of steam engines, which had been brought about when witnessing the cruelty of the other railway's treatment of all of its engines, including members of his own class. It was this that made him realize that an engine's worth wasn't determined by what their type of propulsion was, but by their willingness to work.
It would take time for Dominic to fully adjust to life on the Fat Controllers railway, and it would take even more for the engines to accept that he had changed, but he wasn't at all surprised by this, considering how horrid he had been during his visit.
Stopping at Kellsthorpe Road to let the express pass, he caught sight of Emily collecting passengers to take along her branch line. Once again, he said nothing, but politely greeted her with his horn. Emily was equally silent, but gave a whistle in return.
"I suppose that's a start," Dominic muttered to himself as Gordon rocketed by with the express.
With the express through, the signal turned green, and Dominic set off again.
"I will admit, this railway does have a sort of...rustic charm to it," he said to his driver.
"Yes, but just remember what the Fat Controller said," his driver replied.
"I know. Diesels are welcome on Sodor as long as they work as allies, not as rivals or replacements."
Before long, he had arrived at Maron and began the climb up Gordon's hill, cresting it with some difficulty, and coasting down the other side. The rest of Dominic's journey was uneventful, and he arrived at Knapford by dusk. Leaving his trucks where instructed, Dominic left the station and rumbled to the sheds for a good nights sleep.
Once the class 40 diesel had left, Colin and Philip set to work organizing the trucks, marshaling them up and down the yard, and shunting away coaches as the final passenger trains of the day came in. But there were still a few trains that the Peckett and the Boxcab had to arrange for departures, including the mail train, which Philip shunted onto platform three for Percy, the Vicarstown Comet, which Colin shunted onto platform two for Maggie, and the midnight Goods, which Philip shunted onto platform four.
The midnight goods is a very important train that runs to the mainland. It departs from the yards outside Knapford at 9:45, and reaches Barrow precisely at 12:00, midnight. Once the train is dropped off at Barrow, another engine comes and takes it to the midlands.
As this train is usually very long, it is typically hauled by the North Western Railway's heavy goods engines, Murdoch, Peter and Dominic.
But all three heavy goods engines had already settled in at Knapford sheds for the night, and the train couldn't be delayed. The Fat Controller paced the platform, trying to think of a solution, when James bustled in with the evening commuter.
"Ah! James!" He called.
"Sir?" The red engine asked.
"I have a job I need you to do. Now, I know you're tired and I wouldn't ask this of you if the other engines were available, but I need you to pull the midnight goods."
"But, Sir," James began, "that's a heavy goods train. That job should be for Murdoch, or Peter, or even Dominic."
"All three of them are already at Knapford sheds, and the midnight goods cannot be late."
James would've protested further, but the Fat Controller's words and tone of voice left no room for argument.
"Yes, Sir," James sighed as he was uncoupled from his coaches, which Colin shunted away.
"That's a really useful and splendid engine," The Fat Controller smiled.
James couldn't help but give a small smile back.
After topping up on coal and water, James backed down onto the midnight goods. The signal dropped, the guard blew his whistle, and Sodor's number 5 set off into the night.
James tore down the main line. He was determined to deliver the train and be done with it as quickly as possible.
"Easy there, old boy," his driver said, "Barrow isn't going anywhere."
"I'm aware of that, Charlotte," James grumbled as they passed through Crosby, "but I want to get this job over with!"
"It can't be helped, James," Charlotte reasoned, "Fat Controller's orders."
"The evening commuter was supposed to be our last job of the day! Aren't either of you tired?" James asked his crew.
"I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that we'd have to take the midnight goods all the way to the mainland," Marcus conceded as he threw another shovelful of coal into the fire, "Why are you so chipper?"
"It's just the three of us on the open line, beautiful scenery, cool air and a clear, starry sky," Charlotte answered earnestly.
James found he couldn't disagree with his driver's point, and a smile soon crept onto his face.
Soon, Wellsworth came into view and James charged forward with a will. The train was only nine wagons long, which was unusually short for the midnight goods, but the red Hughes Mogul wanted to take no chances. He rushed through the station at such a speed that all but the most eagle-eyed trainspotters would have just seen a blur.
They came to Gordon's Hill and charged through the curve at the bottom. As the climb became steep, the train began to slow down. James was starting to feel the train pull him back.
"No you don't! No you don't! No you don't!" he snarled, and put all his steam into his cylinders.
Charlotte dropped sand onto the rails to give James better grip, and Marcus shoveled heap after heap of coal into his firebox.
"You can do it James!" Charlotte shouted.
James felt like he didn't say it enough, but he truly appreciated his driver's optimism and positive attitude. Taking her words to heart, he struggled on, losing speed, but not determination, and soon they were at the top.
"You did it, old boy!" Charlotte cheered as they descended the winding path down the other side, "We're away!"
James gave a long whistle as he shot through Maron with a confident smirk etched onto his face.
'Nothing but a quiet, smooth run and clear track, now,' he thought.
How wrong he was.
Further up the line between Maron and Cronk is the viaduct, which crosses the Hawin Ab river that flows into the Irish Sea.
At the edge of the viaduct, where the terrain descended into the river, a man clad in a black trench coat and matching fedora hat and leather gloves with a red bandana tied around his face approached the track, carrying a heavy-duty cutting torch.
He ignited the tool, and began slicing through one of the rails. When he finished, he carried his torch a little further up the line and cut through the rail again.
Setting the torch down, he proceeded to step onto the track and push the rail out of place, causing it to roll onto the grass nearby.
Picking up his cutting torch, the man quickly made his way back into the forest, where a red cargo lorry was waiting on a dirt road. He placed his tool in the back, then walked around to the cab, turned the lorry back on, and drove off into the night.
James was approaching the viaduct, enjoying his run and talking with his crew, when he saw the sabotaged track!
"Good Lord!" James screamed and slammed on his brakes.
Unfortunately, it did no good.
James hit the sabotaged track and slid off the rails. This caused a great jolt, and James's fireman was thrown out of the cab and landed in a bush. His driver crouched in the cab as James came to the slope and violently slid down, his trucks all scattering about and spilling their cargo everywhere.
Finally, James came to a stop at the bottom of the slope. His buffers and lead wheels were completely submerged in the river, his drive wheels had dug deep into the earth, and his tender had snapped its coupling, and was now lying on its side nearby.
Charlotte groaned and held her head, a small gash on her forehead. She slowly and carefully climbed down from the cab and looked at James. He looked to be in terrible pain, and understandably so. The darkness of night prevented her from seeing the full extent of the damage, but she knew it wasn't pretty.
"James, can you hear me?" She asked, gently placing a hand on her engine's face.
"Ohh, I feel like all of my parts are broken," James groaned, steam hissing out.
"I'll be right back, James," she said, dousing his fire, "I've got to go find Marcus."
Charlotte climbed up the slope only to find Marcus already on the edge, dragging himself along the ground.
"Marcus! Are you hurt?"
"I can't walk. My leg's broken," he groaned through clenched teeth.
A diesel from the mainland who had been traveling up the line with a delivery of steel saw everything and raised the alarm.
Henry, Rocky and Harvey were all at the viaduct with a team of workmen and an ambulance at the crack of dawn.
Harvey had set to work recovering the wagons, the workmen had helped James's crew to the ambulance, then worked on helping James out of the Hawin Ab river. Rocky lowered his arm down from his position on the viaduct and the workmen soon attached the chains. Once Rocky was given the signal, he lifted James out of the river and up over the rails.
The Fat Controller had come to see the damage. It was severe. His tender was covered in deep dents and missing two wheels, and James himself fared worse.
He was battered severely from his fall, his drive wheels and side rods were in pieces, his funnel was bent, and his lead wheels, buffers and running board were mangled.
"James! Can you hear me?!" Henry asked as his friend was lowered onto the flatbeds he had brought.
James could only groan.
"Sir, he needs to get to the works right now," Henry urged, "he's hurt bad!"
"Go!" The Fat Controller urged, "See that he gets the help he needs!"
Henry blew his whistle and shot off down the line.