"Who the hell decided to make you the engineer?" Pacifica asked as she climbed into the cab with Dipper, immediately overwhelmed by the locomotive's deep, throaty hissing and roar.
"I told McGucket I'd got my Driver's Permit and he offered me the job." Wendy chuckled. "Apparently there's not many people he'd trust, he's got too much of a hunch to reach a lot of the controls, and I'm one of the only people in town with 20-20 vision."
Dipper blinked. "Don't you need, like, two guys?"
"Oh yeah, Marcus is gonna be shovelling coal and stuff. Fiddleford figures he's as tough as a guy gets before he has trouble fitting in there, it's pretty tight for space, y'know? Otherwise he'd get my Dad." Wendy said, tapping one of the gauge glasses and squinting.
"Do you even know how to-" Dipper paused as Wendy flipped through a copy of Is That Meant To Hiss At Me? The Practical Engineman's Manual.
"So what's with all the whistles and yelling?" The gangly redhead asked, putting her feet up on a lever as she sat down in a stool and read through the book. Whatever the lever did, the engine spat another cloud of steam in response. "I didn't even know you could run like that, Dip."
"Wendy, we've got a serious problem with the coal." Pacifica said firmly. "We need to like, uncouple the coal car and-"
"No can do. Hey, wanna see the train move?"
"Wendy, I'm serious!"
"Dude, chill. I'm sorry, but this thing doesn't even have a coal car. It's connected to the engine. See?" Wendy stomped her foot on the solid floor for emphasis.
"But when you burn it-"
It was clearly sure the Corduroy daughter was a little too eager to pay much attention. "I've not burnt any coal yet, that's meant to be Marcus's job, but we got a little steam. Look."
Their next protests were drowned out by the clank of Wendy setting the cutoff, releasing the brake and yanking open the regulator, if only by a notch or two. Almost immediately, the locomotive came alive under their feet.
"We started the fire with wood, but McGucket says there's too many sparks for us to use it all the time." She shouted over the machine's cacophonic soundtrack.
The engine's funnel huffed a giant, wheezing breath, the wheels committing a screeching turn, the noise and commotion of it all drowning out the two young investigators - and stunning them into silence.
Slowly, groaning, roaring, rolling, the giant hunk of machinery began to move. It was like the sound of a giant hydraulic hammer - a huge, lumbering, impressive kind of noise that betrayed just how huge, lumbering and impressive the thing was. It silenced them almost immediately.
THUNFF
THUNFF
THUNFF
Wendy pulled the whistle cord, and the engine responded with a ghostly, haunting hoot that reminded them of a giant ship rather than a train. It echoed across the valley, bouncing back and forth from the looming cliffs as the engine slowly picked up a trundling pace. Water sputtered from the valves and pipes ahead of them as the teenage engineer leant out of the cab.
Dipper went quiet as he watched her long red hair picked up by the gentle breeze, a trickle of sweat on her brow, her neckerchief around her neck, the overalls already christened with grease and soot - a confident, powerful sort of appearance, docked with an engineer's cap.
He smiled. Wendy looked good.
Pacifica nudged him in the ribs and shot him a look that could curdle milk, quickly bringing him back into reality.
"Pretty cool, huh?" The Corduroy daughter said, obliviously. "Obviously it's gonna be easier when Marcus gets here."
"You don't understand, Wendy, this is serious!" Dipper said. "The-"
WoOOooooo-OooOOoooo
The sound of the whistle didn't only drown out Dipper and Pacifica - it drowned out the murmurings that were coming from inside the coal pile. Deep inside the dark, dusty piles of freshly excavated fuel, a row of white-toothed mouths beamed, drooling and licking their purple lips at the prospects they faced.
"Permission to leap, Sir?" One hard, chiselled voice mumbled to another.
"Not until the door is open, you 'orrible little man. An' when that thing is open, we go in one at a ruddy time without raising panic. You know the boggle motto."
"No one left unburned."
"Damned right." The leader said, sounding worryingly like an army officer.
It was there that, steadily, the locomotive slowed down, its chimney-beats becoming a quieter, slower crawl. The needle on the pressure gauge shook for a moment, then began slipping backwards.
Wendy's little moment was over. She frowned as she pulled the firebox door lever and looked at the steadily depleting wooden embers within. "Aw, man. I thought it'd last longer than that. I guess that's it, sorry guys-"
"No! Nononono! Wendy, no!" Dipper yelled, trying to grab the lever. Within the blink of an eye - and with a booming battle cry - a large, slobbering, biting lump of coal took hold of his hand, breaking the skin. The young investigator yelled out loud and tried to fight it off.
"Whoa! What the hell is that thing?!" Wendy shouted. "Some kinda freaky rock gremlin?!"
"Get it off! Get it off!" Dipper yelled.
The cab erupted into a burst of chaos - Dipper yelling as crimson dripped from his stricken hand was everything the Boggles needed. Another lump flew out, this time plunging into the locomotive's glowing firebox.
The effect was instantaneous. The Boggle screamed as it burst into a white-hot flame, and the engine followed a similar process to the Shack's antiquated boiler. The pressure spiked, the gauge rattled as the needle flew upwards, and, almost immediately, Number 4.5 began to gain speed.
THUNFF
THUNFF
THUNFF-THUNFF-THUNFF-THUNFFTHUNFFTHUNFF
Wendy grabbed the side of the locomotive cab with a yelp as the locomotive's wheels bit against the rails and began to speed onwards. "What the-"
Pacifica grabbed a pair of fire tongs. "Dipper, pass me your hand!"
Dipper grunted and did as he was told, his noodly little arm now quivering. The Boggle made weird growling noises, like a rabid bassy chihuahua, its pearly white teeth sinking deep into his hand. "G-get it off!"
She wrapped the tongs around Dipper's hand, jabbing the clamps into each side of the Boggle's mouth. "You got it."
Pacifica pulled the tongs open forcefully, prompting the big, dirty lump of carbon to begin to crack. The gnawing and snuffling sound turned into a bellow of pain as the creature's oversized jaws were pried open. Cracks began to form across the Boggle's body, the screaming and groaning from the grotesque creature growing louder and more desperate until-
Crunch.
Two broken, toothy chunks of coal to the floor. Silent and motionless, each marked by purple lips, white teeth - and the bottom piece filled with a grotesque, grey-pink tongue. It flopped out with a dull splatch against the cab floor.
"Oh, I'm gonna puke." Pacifica grimaced. "That's gross. That's really gross."
"T-thanks…" Dipper grunted, holding his hand.
"Dude, that was hardcore." Wendy said, though her attention wasn't on the dissected coalem for long.
They had almost forgotten the immediate danger they were in. The engine was roaring in a continuous rumble, like a rushing herd of bison. It shook wildly, hammering away on the rails, rocking the kids - and the worryingly inexperienced locomotive engineer - back and forth as the train rattled over pointwork and onto the main route through Gravity Falls.
Wendy gritted her teeth as she tried to pull the brake - a lever that already felt rather stiff - only for another boggle to eagerly jump into the engine's rudimentary lever mechanism, allowing itself to be crushed without a second thought. The resulting mess worked into the rods and joints and made it stick tight.
The gangly teenager grunted and pulled as hard as she could - but it wouldn't shift. Roaring like a wildfire - which, effectively, was exactly what lived within its belly - the locomotive continued picking up speed - and did so unrepentantly.
"Come on! Come on!" Wendy yelled, jamming her boot against the backhead and putting all of her weight onto the lever. "What the hell are these things?!"
"It's a long story." Pacifica said, quietly.
Ping!
Off came the lever pin - off came the lever - and Number 4.5 officially lost its brakes.
"Oh, for fuc-"
Wendy's next words were drowned out by the roar of the fire, as another Boggle threw itself into the flaming, white hot grate, and the locomotive grew faster and faster, screaming like a whippoorwill as it followed the iron road, sparks flying from its funnel as thick, black smoke poured from it - leaving a tarry, sooty trail in the atmosphere as it roared, uncontrolled, down its freshly laid path.
They were in trouble. And with 8 tons of the stuff behind them, the danger wouldn't be over anytime soon.