Chapter 8: Allies, Remember?

Panic had made Thomas's firebox hotter than the fires of hell, and he moved faster than he had in years. He remembered how fast he once had to be when he was accidentally coupled to Gordon, pulling the morning express. If he could make that journey and survive, then there was no reason he couldn't go that fast, now. Especially considering how speedy Gordon was, their window of time to help could be small.

The three engines rushed around the bends of cliffs by the bay, towards the distressed whistles, which seemed to be becoming sharper and faster the closer they became. The owners of which were undeniable to Thomas, now, who was accustomed to the slight variation in all of his friend's whistles. And made it all the more horrid to hear them used in the emergency frequency.

The noise soon combined with the voices of the engines, Emily shouting something, which they later found out was directed at Gordon.

Mira and Thomas panted up to the cliff's edge. Triplet tracks wrapped around the mountain bend, he and she on the two farther inland.

What they saw when they finally stopped made their eyes bulge out in horror.

Gordon, the proud tender engine, was in peril. He was hanging over the cliff face first, his front wheels hanging over the edge, and he was sloped downward at a steep incline.

Emily, grounded on the tracks by the cliff, was struggling to pull him back. Her front buffers were cabled to Gordon, and she was crying as her wheels slipped forward on the track. Again, and again, she rolled back a few inches, and her driver slammed on the break, only to be pulled forward right back to where she was. She and a few conveniently placed stones at the bottom of the slope, smaller than his wheels and acting as wheel chocks, were the only things keeping Gordon from going over.

This isn't happening… thought Thomas.

She heard their whistles, and while she couldn't look back, she knew who was there. "Thomas!" she cried. "Mira!"

"What's happened?!" Thomas asked without thinking, as if details mattered right now.

"Gordon's in trouble!" Emily winced. "I found him and roped myself to him before those stones gave way! But I can't pull him back up this hill on my own, he's too heavy!"

"It's okay!... It's okay!" Thomas tried to reassure her, though he was still panting. "We're-we're going to help!"

"Thomas?" Gordon asked. He couldn't see him, and they couldn't see his face, but they could tell by his voice that he was terrified.

"Y-yes, it's me... Gordon," Thomas replied. It was so much harder to speak to the victim here. "S-stay calm," he said with a shaky voice. "Please... just stay calm."

Once Emily's fireman saw two other engines approaching, he poked his head out of the cab. "Oh, thank everything you're here!"

"How did this happen?!" Thomas's driver shouted, hopping from the cab and running to Emily's.

Inside, Gordon's fireman and driver were with Emily's crew, doing everything in their power to keep Emily from sliding forward—watching her gauges, helping her fireman keep her fire bright. Even setting her breaks and reverses in even, timed motions to try and gain more momentum.

"The switch was broken—nearest signalman didn't know," Emily's tired fireman explained, in between breaths. "Gordon veered to a siding and his strength broke the buffers. He was going so fast that he couldn't stop."

"We were coming around the bed with the train and heard him whistling for help," explained Emily's conductor, having momentarily left the coaches. "We found him downwards on the slope with his wheels hanging over the side. Wanted to go back for help, but Emily refused. Nutty girl—refused to move, and made us tie her to him so that he didn't slip over the edge. But she's not doing well."

The other two engines had noticed. Emily was in agony. Her face was red, teeth gritted, and her wheels were screeching. The pain of holding onto Gordon with all of her might had to be terrific, and Thomas was once again awe-struck by her determination and bravery. But to watch her suffering was unbearable.

It's just like my dream, Thomas realized. The night he shared his shed with Mira. Only so, so much worse. He knew he could pull little Mira to safety if he needed to. But Gordon? Back then, Gordon could barely pull him out of the mine shaft!

And unlike the mine, which while scary, was relatively shallow, the edge of this cliff stood fifty feet from the ocean. When Thomas inched up closer to the slope, he could see waves crashing over big, sandy rocks down below. The water was deep.

There was no doubt about it. If Gordon fell, that was it. There would be no rescuing him.

"We need James and Henry!" Thomas shouted. "They're the only ones strong enough to pull him back!"

"We can't!" Emily's fireman explained mournfully. "They're on the other side of the island by now! By the time they get here, it'll be too late!"

Thomas eyed the cliff's edge. They didn't have much time. Any second now, the stones would break under Gordon's weight, or the earth itself beneath his front could give way, and he would go face first into the waves, pulling Emily with him.

Seeing the fellow engine—nay, not just a fellow engine, but a mentor, of sorts—in peril made Thomas forget his anger. "We have to help her pull Gordon back onto the tracks."

"Do you think we can?" asked Mira.

"It's our only chance," Thomas said. He then swallowed and added, "It's his."

There was not a puff of pride left in Gordon. His voice wobbled with the awesome appreciation for his own mortality. "So, this is it…" he thought out loud. "So this is how it all ends. I suppose I've lived my life of service. Thomas!"

"What, Gordon?"

"L-listen. I-I take back what I said at the sheds. I'm sorry that I couldn't leave with us being friends. But you can't let another engine go down with me. Get Emily unhooked and leave me! I'm old! I'm worthless!"

"Shut up!" Emily shouted at him, her tone exacerbated by her exhaustion. "You don't know what you're saying!"

"And we're not going anywhere!" Thomas agreed, his voice firm but calmer than Emily's. "We're not letting you give up! You got me out of the mine shaft, and I'm going to get you out of this! Allies, remember?"

Gordon said nothing else. With his face away from them, the other engines could only imagine what expression he was making, but Thomas could sense it was apologetic.

The crews went to work immediately. Using the emergency cables in their cabs, Mira and Thomas were cabled to Gordon's back buffers. Now the three engines had their own respective pull on him.

Mira was the first to give it her all. Initially, she put on the same stoic face she used when moving the stone cars by the quarry. But when there was no effect, she began to lose her patience. The little brown tank engine strained and pulled with all of her might, pulling back, and reversing quickly with a mighty kick backwards. But every single time, once the slack in her cable was gone, she didn't move. Didn't even encourage Gordon back an inch. The big tender engine was holding her in place, just like it was Emily.

Gordon hadn't said a word since the three engines began to pull together. His gaze was fixed down at the water below. His eyes were red and straining. He couldn't blink: Too afraid of losing a single second of precious life, when it could very well be over, any minute.

Never, ever had Thomas seen him like this before. Being witness to the biggest, strongest engine in the shed in such mortal peril was spirit-crushing. It was more terrifying for him than Gordon himself ever was, even in Thomas's early days, when Gordon had tried to intimidate him.

With one last go, Mira reversed hard for one mighty tug, and her back wheels lifted from the tracks. She nearly toppled over, but thankfully, she didn't. But even this did nothing.

Thomas's driver decided to try to pull in-sync with Emily. The Sodor engines made slack by forwarding and reversed sharply at the same time, and still nothing. At last, Mira's driver decided to try the same, but even with all three engines pulling Gordon back at the same time, he did not move. Like Emily, their wheels were spinning, but they were going nowhere.

Chunks of wet dirt from the recent rain showers were knocked loose as the three smaller engines pulled on Gordon. One of the large stones that kept Gordon's front wheels in place finally crushed to pebbles under his weight, the pieces rolling off of the slope, and he rolled forward. Ever slightly, his boiler began to tip further downwards. Due to most of his body remaining on the track, however, it was only a slight dip, and he stopped just a few inches from where he was a moment ago.

But it was still a bad sign.

The situation was beginning to look bleak. "Everybody, stop!" Emily's fireman shouted. "If we pull anymore, the earth will give way. We have to wait for the bigger engines and a crane."

Thomas and his crew obeyed the order, but Thomas looked to Mira to see if she was thinking the same. Will there be time?

He looked into the situation helplessly. To pull or park, that was the question. If they pulled too hard, the earth would definitely give way, and they'd all be donefore. But if they just held him until more help arrived, the cliff's edge very well might collapse anyway.

If only they could know which option gave them the best shot at Gordon's survival. But to do that, they'd have to be clairvoyant.

Unless, there was a third option.

"We have to think of a plan," Thomas told the girls. And fast. "We need… we need… more strength…"

"But we've got no leverage," Emily said.

"Not if we think about how to do this right," Thomas said to her.

Everybody was talking, including the crew members. It was the bleakest situation of an engine in peril they'd ever seen. They shouted ideas back and forth from their engines, but nobody could agree on a plan. They were treating the situation with the same seriousness as if their own lives depended on it, and technically, it did: If Gordon pulled the other engines down, their crews could very well go with them.

Thomas turned to Mira, in the hopes that she might have an idea. But she wouldn't look the other engines in the eyes—ashamed that she had no wisdom to offer this situation. She sat there, her break firmly parked, the cable sitting before her, still taught between herself and Gordon. Still, if Thomas knew her well enough by now, he knew she was conflicted—restless to act, to use her brute strength to fix this, but was held in place due to the risk of finishing Gordon off. Was this the most miserable situation she'd ever encountered, in all of her travels? Despite having made up most of the story of the rescue of the tender engine, Thomas wondered if—

"That's it!" He looked at the other tank engine excitedly. "Mira! This is just like your story! A tank engine saved a tender engine all by herself!"

"But that was just a story, Thomas!" she exclaimed. "I told you, I lied!"

"You didn't lie!" Thomas shouted back at her. "You embellished! There's a difference!"

"But it still never happened the way I said!" Mira sobbed. "It was just pretend!"

Thomas's eyes flickered to the old, steel utility pole, dug into the ground, a little ways away from the tracks behind them. Like the obsolete section of track that got Gordon in this mess, it had been out of service for years, but Thomas knew it had to have excellent grounding if it hadn't been knocked down yet. "Then let's make it a reality!" he shouted at her. "TODAY!" He looked at his crew. "Untie me and use the cable to secure me to that pole from the back."

"Well, what are you going to do?" asked Mira.

"What do you think?" Thomas asked. "I'm pulling you two!"

"Are you crazy? You can't pull three engines!"

"With the right leverage, I can!" Thomas said. His eyes rolled towards the pole. "That pole is huge, and has to be rooted deep in the ground. It'll hold anything. Even all of us."

"Even if we had leverage, we don't have a crane, or a pulley!" Mira told him.

Thomas thought carefully. Then it came to him: They needed a wheel. "Then I'll be the pulley," he sighed.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Emily shouted.

"To use a pulley you need a wheel. I'll be the wheel. Er, what I mean is, I'll use my front wheel bar to collect the slack. If I tie our emergency cables around that pole, I can tie my back buffers to it. I won't move, and I'll be able pull you two back along your own tracks without sliding forward! Gordon's weight will try and pull us all, but I'll keep us all in place! The distribution of strength should be enough to pull Gordon level with the earth!"

"This is mad, Thomas," His driver warned him. "The force between the two could rip you in half, let alone tear your wheels off!"

"There's no other way!" Thomas told him. "It's Gordon's only hope! Let me do this!"

The driver looked to the fireman, and at last, he gave in. Bullheaded little cheeky thing. Even after all these years, it was so hard to tell him 'no.'

Once everyone was on board with the plan, it took no time at all. From a skyward view, a diamond shaped formation had taken place between the engines and the cables. Thomas was anchored as tightly as they could make him to the pole, using every last inch of usable slack there was. His front wheels were tied to the cables, and they were tied to Emily and Mira, still tied to Gordon. The whole mechanism was elaborate, but it had occurred to everyone that the grounding of the weight was essential.

This might just work.

"Alright, everybody, on the count of three. One, two... " Thomas's driver counted down, shouting from the cab so that all parties could hear him. "Thomas, reverse!"

Three, two, one, pain.

It happened just like he feared it might. As soon as the slack was gone, the cord pulled on Thomas's wheels with a ferocious strength. At once, all the pressure that had been exerted on poor Emily just a short while ago was now on Thomas, and doubled. His body took the force, threatening to yank his wheel rod from its welding.

He gasped. The pain was unreal. With the pole holding him in place, the weight of Gordon, Emily, and Mira was concentrated on his body in a way that made medevil torture devices look weak. But the pole was keeping him from slipping even an inch forwards. He felt his wheels fight to unwind, but his body wouldn't move.

"Alright, girls, your turn! Let's give Thomas slack!" Emily's driver shouted.

Once again, Emily and Mira reversed until their backends lost their tightness with Thomas's front. But it was getting harder and harder for Emily. Her cheeks were still flushed from all the prior exertion, and she was beyond tired out. But she kept on. There was no hope of keeping Gordon from going over if she quit now.

Thomas reversed his wheels backwards with all his might, until the instant the slack was gone. And when the cables were tight, he cranked them back even more, his pistons catching and screeching. He forced the cable to wrap around the underside of his wheel rod, and low and behold, it did not unwind. Emily and Mira's pull before him made doubly sure that it didn't.

They may not have been going backwards anywhere fast. But nobody was going forward.

It took time but soon, he was reversing. And collecting the cable with it. Inch by inch.

He clenched his teeth and screeched and screeched and pulled harder than he ever pulled in his life. Every few inches, his wheels would snag, and they'd screech on the track until sparks flew. Smoke was beginning to fill the air. It was the most strain he'd ever been under in his life. Warnings were going off in both the cab gauges, and his head. Too much heat. Too much pressure. Too much strain.

He began to seriously wonder: What if I DO rip in half?

But he shook it off. He wasn't some weak little car made of wood, like that stupid chatterbox Scruffy. He was an engine, forged from metal. He wasn't going to break.

Steam engines didn't make it this far into the 20th century being weak.

Of all the times, it was now, becoming dizzy and disorientated, that a distinct memory surfaced in Thomas's head...

"You made me laugh," boomed Gordon's voice, clear as a bell. "I'm in disgrace!"

"So am I," he himself had replied.

"Why, so you are, Thomas," Gordon mused. "Should we become allies? You help me, and I'll help you."

"Right you are!" Thomas answered.

Gordon pushed against Thomas's back so that they could be coupled together for the journey home. "Good! Then it's settled!..."

That conversation happened so many years ago, but it was as if it were only yesterday, for how it still radiated with him. Tears, a mixture of stress and pain, streamed down Thomas's cheeks.

If anything happened to Gordon…

No.

He couldn't stand the thought. That wasn't going to happen. Not as long as he was alive.

"GORDON!" he shouted to the air, in between breaths. "I'm sorry! Sorry that I argued with you!"

"I'm sorry, too," Gordon choked back. "I'm sorry I said that I can't stand you. It's not true! On the contrary! You're… you're the only thing that takes away from me being such a miserable fuddy duddy!"

"We need…! Ergh!…. our miserable fuddy duddy!" Thomas yelled, the words coming out in between gasps for breath. Every few moments, he forced his wheels back another two inches, the slack between him and the girls disappearing again. Just a step backwards, again and again. Baby steps, but it was progress. "Who… W-who else is going to thunder down the line…. Pulling the express?!... who-who else is going... t-to keep my senses checked? Remind me that I'm not invincible?! I NEED YOU!"

At last, the collection of cable beneath Thomas's wheel rods began to show an effect. Gordon felt himself move. Just a tiny jerk. Then another. So small, it was pathetic. But it was something. Did he dare to open his eyes? When he cracked them, he saw that he was, indeed, moving backwards. The water and the rocks below were moving away from him.

I-I can't believe it, Gordon marveled silently. I can't believe he's doing it. I can't—

With one last, triumphant scream, Thomas reversed hard, pulling the cable as tight as he could with it.

Gordon felt his front wheels touch metal. When he opened his eyes again, he kept them open. The setting sun on the horizon sat in front of him, and not the water.

He was on the tracks again!

And at the exact same moment, something cracked. A terrific noise which echoed off the corners of the mountain wall behind them, like a cannon going off. The crews of the engines nearly jumped out of their skins.

For the briefest moment, Thomas thought it was the sound of his own heart breaking. Gordon…

But it was not the sound of Gordon falling to his death that they all heard, and it took only a few moments to realize what it was. Or, rather, who.

Thomas's crew nearly went deaf with the sound. They fell forward in the cab, screaming for their lives, and landed cheek-first against the engine's control panel, their feet narrowly avoiding sliding into the firebox.

Smoke was everywhere. It mixed with the cloud of steam in the air and made a curtain thick enough to blind Thomas from the other engines.

The little blue tank engine was just barely aware that nearly all of it was coming from himself. His fire was too, too hot. He was dizzy. White, hot pain shot through his body.

He felt himself falling forward, but he never felt hitting the ground beneath him. Everything was in slow motion, and it was getting hard to see. White, hot smoke closing in on his vision. Whiter and whiter, and then, blackness. Silence.

The girls felt the cable behind them jerk in sync with the noise, and then fall completely slack. Simultaneously, both looked at each other, horrified by what it could mean.

Thomas… Mira thought with an audible wince. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she closed them. If he was dying, she didn't want to know.

But Emily did. "THOMAS!" She cried, cursing herself that she couldn't see what had become of her friend.

But they couldn't worry about him right now, not after his sacrifice had given them the opportunity they needed: Gordon was on the tracks again. Emily and Mira continued to pull backwards with all their might, encouraging him up the slope, but Emily was so exhausted, she could feel her grip begin to slip. Combined with the worry for Thomas, her fire was growing dimmer, and it was all she could do to keep the cables between her and Gordon tight. "Mira… I can't… I can't anymore…"

"I got'chu, Emily!" Mira told her, pulling backwards with all of her might. "Don't give up!"

And with Mira taking the bulk of the strain, the two engines kept Gordon from rolling forward. But the trick had already been done. Gordon was finally level with the ground, his front wheels on solid track.

"He's stabilized!" shouted Emily's conductor. "Quickly, reverse him!"

Seizing his chance—though it was the riskiest thing he did in his life (a seasoned operator knows no limits of loyalty towards their engine)—Gordon's driver ran back into the cab of the tetering engine, and slammed on his reverse. The big engine's wheels spun backwards ferociously, sparks flying in the friction until, finally, he found grip on the broken track. Even with his heavy tender pushing him forward, he finally began to move, and with his driver in control, he was able to push himself back up the slope.

Mira and Emily reversed in time with him, and didn't let the cables fall slack between them so much as an inch until Gordon's front end was finally staring down the slope with his own eyes. Ten feet away, on horizontal ground.

Just in time. The damp earth cracked and gave way where his wheels had been plunged just moments ago. The cliff's edge began to crumble, and chunks broke off and began falling all the way into the ocean water below, their splashes echoing off the cliff walls.

The relief of the rescue, however, was nullified. With their backs turned, none of the other engines could see Thomas. And his silence filled them with dread. Especially Gordon. "Thomas… Thomas! Say something!"

Thomas's crew were paralyzed with fear, with their palms against the wall. One moment passed, then two, until they felt it was safe to evacuate. With sweaty, shaking palms, they crawled out from the cab, one by one, and stood and beheld their dear engine. Or what was left of him.

Emily and Gordon's crews emerged next. Gordon's driver set his break, and stumbled out of the cab, panting, and took in the sights around him in disbelief. The exertion having been a lot for his middle age, he collapsed to his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

Mira's driver and fireman poked their heads out to her cab to witness what had become of Gordon, and then, finally, Thomas. As soon as the smoke and steam cleared, every other crewmember could see what Thomas's crew already had.

Short of their worst fears, the little engine was not totally obliterated. But the damage was grisly. His boiler still intact, what had caused the horrific first bang was the sound of Thomas's front end cracking from his body, taking his front wheel rod with it. His entire front had taken the blow of the strain of holding back Emily and Mira. The damage left him to sit at an angle on the track, facing the dirt. His eyes were shut, and absurdly, he looked quite peaceful, like he was sleeping.

"Is he alright?" Emily dared to ask, choking back a sob. Her whole body ached, and emotionally worked up from what she'd just been through. She couldn't bear to look behind herself, even if she could. "Is he alright?"

Thomas's crew, still dazed by their own close brush with death, were still trying to process what had happened. After a beat or two, confirming it was safe to enter, his driver climbed back into the cab from its awkward angle, and began checking Thomas's gauges. A few moments later, he poked his head out and shouted: "It's okay! He… he passed out!—I think—? The pain must've been awful. But he's alive."

Mira's driver set her break, stepped out of the cab and gazed at the blue engine. "A fool he be for sure," she said with great admiration, removing her cap and lowering it to her midsection, wiping the sweat collecting on her brow. "But a brave fool."

So his gauges are still working. He is alive. The news made Gordon laugh harder than he ever had in memory. "That's Thomas, alright!"

"Wait, I think he's coming to!" Thomas's driver shouted, leaving the cab and running around the front. He tapped the engine's side with his palm. "Thomas? Can you hear me?"

When Thomas opened his eyes, he was bombarded with nearly a dozen people looking over him—all from a strangely tall angle—with worry. He didn't know how to react. But seeing as all three other engines were now safely on the tracks, he realized something had gone right. "Ow…" was all he had to say.

"You genius!" Gordon shouted at him. He was never more excited to hear his voice. "You idiotic genius! You did it! You really did it!"

"Is he complimenting me or insulting me?" Thomas asked wearily to no one in particular. Eventually, his dizzy eyes recognized his driver's figure. "I feel funny. How do I look?"

"Like an engine without his front wheels," the driver confirmed proudly.

"So that's what that was," Gordon mused. "Sounds like you took quite a wallop. No wonder you sound out of it."

"Oh dear," Thomas said. "No wonder you all look so tall. The ladies will think I look quite silly, won't they?"

The 'ladies' gazed at each other and snorted awkwardly. Meanwhile, Thomas's driver smacked his forehead.

But his fireman made a hearty laugh. "Oh, I doubt that," he told Thomas. "Nothing sexier than heroism."

The driver took off his cap and swung at the fireman. "You and your vulgarity…"

Soon, the female engines reversed further from the cliff on their respective tracks, both for safety and in order to finally get a look at Thomas.

Emily gasped when he saw the engine sitting there with his face pointed at the ground. "By Jove!" her voice came out in a tense whisper, as if loudness could hurt him more. "Look at you!"

"I could say the same," Thomas replied weakly, noticing her still-pink cheeks, and the lines under her eyes, from the corner of his own. "You are alright… right?"

Emily thought that was the most ridiculous question she'd ever heard. So stunned, she hesitated before replying. "You… Y-you look like a bloody wheelbarrow! And you have the nerve to ask me if I'm alright?"

"Chivalry, Emily," her male driver explained politely.

"Chivalry, my tender!" Emily shouted, her voice echoing off the mountain wall. "And the conductor calls me a mad engine with this piece of work around!"

But Thomas just grinned at her.

Mira backed up until she was in line with his buffer on the right side track—or at least, where it used to be. "I don't have words. To say that was something would be an understatement, Thomas. I don't think I'd ever have the bravery to do anything like the engines in my stories. And today, I just did. And it's because of you."

"It was your story that inspired me," Thomas said. "And I couldn't have done it without you two."

"Thomas is… a take-charge kind of engine, I suppose," Emily said coolly, on the track on his left. She glanced Thomas's way and, when Mira wasn't looking, smiled and winked at him.

Thomas beamed back at her. What a good friend she was.

But his happiness crumbled when he looked down at his front—or what was left of it. Damage this extensive made him ask himself the dreaded question no engine ever wanted to think about:

Was he even salvageable?

ALLLLRIGHT boys, the climax is completed. It took a bit of rewriting to make sure the rescue portion made sense (I hope it does). Hope it was worth the wait! Only about three chapters left to go, and this story is ready to be shelved. :P Action writing isn't my strong suit, so comment with any questions/edits I could make to make this better!