Back To The Past
Part Two: Riding The Train To Temporal Oblivion
"Biff has your family?" stammered Marty, looking over at the disoriented Biff, stumbling across the decimated back yard. "What the hell's he doing with your family, Doc? I mean, he barely knows you."
Marty wasn't sure, but it seemed like the ringing in his ears was finally fading away, only to be replaced by a dull, rumbling sound.
"There isn't time to explain now, Marty," stressed Doc Brown, trying to drag Marty down off of the deck. "I'm barely ahead of the temporal wave, and things are going to be changing any second!"
The ringing was definitely gone, but the rumbling persisted, reverberating through his head like the roar of a tidal wave rolling towards the beach.
"Temporal wave? Doc, what's going on?" pleaded Marty, grudgingly letting the Doc pull him towards the train.
The rumbling was growing louder, almost sounding like distant thunder now, and Marty shook his head, trying to free his senses from the noise.
"I'll explain all, once we're safely in the time stream. Until then, every moment we linger here we risk being altered with the time-line."
The thunder was rolling now, one continuous booming sound on top of another, and Marty knew that the sound was not coming from inside of his head--it was all around him.
"What's that noise?" asked Marty.
Doc Brown suddenly looked up, seeming startled, appearing as if he was noticing the sound for the first time. His mouth fell open in a gasp and he looked to Marty with eyes wide, his face contorted in panic.
"It's here!" shouted the Doc, forcibly grabbing Marty and pushing him the last few steps to the train. "We have to go! Now!"
Memories of their friendship flashing through his mind, Marty knew that he had no other choice but to trust Doc Brown. They had both gone through time, and personal hells, to help each other, and there was no way that he could tell the Doc no. Not this time. Not ever. Determined to do what ever he could to help, Marty clamored up the steps of the locomotive.
"You're not going anywhere, Old Man," growled Biff, grabbing a hold of Doc Brown and spinning him around.
The wind began whipping through the back yard, blowing with a ferocity reminiscent of the locomotive's arrival, and the air was taking on a blue, sparkly glow.
"I knew you'd come back for it one day!" screamed Biff, shaking Doc Brown by his shirt collar. "Well, it's mine now, and you can't take it from me!"
"You have no idea what you've done," yelled Doc Brown, bringing his fists up to break Biff's grip.
"I haven't done anything. Not yet anyways," countered Biff, staggering back from the Doc's strike.
Doc Brown wasn't quite as old as he appeared to be, and the last eighteen years hadn't been all that gentle to Biff. If it came down to a knock down, drag out fight, then the odds favored the Doc. Not by much, but they favored him.
"You already have," snarled Doc Brown.
"Oh, my, God," said Marty, standing in the entranceway of the locomotive.
The world was vanishing in a wave of blue energy that was sweeping ever closer to them, the wall encroaching from every direction that he looked in. Buildings, houses, trees, land, everything was being swallowed up by the light, which was rumbling towards them like some obscene, gigantic wave.
Marty had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was looking at Doc Brown's temporal wave.
"Doc! Look!" shouted Marty, pointing to the vanishing horizon.
"Great Scott," exclaimed Doc Brown.
"What the hell is that?" demanded Biff, trying to reestablish his hold on the Doc. "What have you done to us, Old Man?"
"You did this, Biff," the Doc said, shouting to be heard over the roar of the wind. "You did this to us all!"
"Bull. I'm gonna…"
Biff never finished his sentence, Marty's foot lashing out and catching him in the chin, snapping the man's head back. Biff dropped to his knees, groaning, shaking his head to try and clear the stars that were floating before his eyes.
"Thank you, Marty," said the Doc, taking Marty's hand and climbing up into locomotive.
Marty practically danced around the small confines of the engine cab, moving as fast as he could to stay out of Doc Brown's way as the scientist darted back and forth, adjusting numerous controls. Though many of the controls were completely unrecognizable to him, Marty was able to identify the Flux Capacitor, easily twice as large as the one that had been in the DeLorean. To the front of the compartment was the Destination Panel, also much larger (and more sturdy looking) than the one he was experienced with, and with a much longer display screen.
Apparently the Doc had been traveling through millions of years.
The engine shuddered briefly as it rose from the ground, the two men stumbling about for a second before getting their footing, and the Doc manipulated the controls with experienced ease. Swinging the locomotive around to line up their run for time jumping, Doc Brown flashed a reassuring smile at Marty.
"Don't worry. Once we're in the time-stream, we'll have time to talk about what's gone wrong."
"I trust you, Doc," said Marty, smiling, clapping a hand on Doc Brown's shoulder.
"Thank you, Marty," replied Doc Brown, smiling sadly. "I knew I could count on you. Better brace yourself for departure."
Grabbing a hold of hand rail on the side of the wall, Marty nodded to the Doc that he was ready, and he glanced at the Destination Panel to see what time they were traveling to.
"October seventeenth, eighty-five?" mouthed Marty, thinking that there was something eerily familiar about the date.
Any further pondering of the date was forgotten as the locomotive rocketed forward, Marty having to wrap his second hand around the hold as he fought to remain standing against the g-forces.
"Doooooooooooooocccccccccc," screamed Marty, watching in horror as they shot directly towards the temporal wave.
The locomotive performed a one-eighty that Marty would have sworn that it never could have, and suddenly it was racing from the temporal wave, rapidly nearing the eighty-eight mile per hour mark.
Between the roar of the locomotive and the roar of the temporal wave, the two men barely heard the thunderous, triple booms of their breaking of the time barrier.
They certainly did not hear the screams coming from outside of the locomotive. The screams of Biff as he hung onto the rear of the craft, his heart racing as they were swallowed up by the time stream, vanishing to some other when.
To Be Continued…
