Thunderbirds Are Go
The Halloween Collection
2022 Edition
By Lee Homer
Disclaimer: All rights reserved. I don't own Thunderbirds or any of the characters involved. You know the drill. We're back for another collection of tales of the weird, the depraved and the paranormal. I hope you enjoy these stories and Happy Halloween.
The Last Train Home
by Lady Penelope
This ghostly tale happened towards the end of our holiday. Gordon and I had been on a trip through the Golden State of California, travelling from San Francisco to Los Angeles via Mono-Rail. For Gordon, it was a chance to relax and heal since his last rescue mission. He had injured himself during a run-in with The Hood when he tried to hack into a top-secret submarine and use it to trap Thunderbird 4. Gordon took care of the situation the only way he knew how, but it resulted in a few fractured ribs and a black eye.
Jeff suggested he spend some time with me while Thunderbird 4 underwent repairs, which was when I came up with the idea of a trip to the states. I also gave Parker the time off, making this a rather intimate trip for the pair of us. I won't bore you with all the places we visited on our travels, but it was magical. Gordon appreciated the time away and it even helped us grow closer as a couple.
A few nights before the incident, we left the roads and countryside and boarded a train bound for San Francisco. We arrived at the city the following morning and spent the day sightseeing before boarding our connecting train to Los Angeles. Everything went according to schedule until the night of our departure. It was around 11 pm when we were halfway into our journey. I was feeling sleepy, but Gordon had pumped himself up on caffeine and sugar from dinner. He sat there, staring out of the window at the black canvas beyond. He held me as I fell asleep on his shoulder. I figured I'd awake just in time for our final destination, but instead, felt myself jolt awake from the screeching of the emergency brakes. I lurched forward violently, but Gordon caught me before my head could hit the table.
"What's happening? Are we there already?" I asked him wearily as my brain kicked into gear.
Gordon shrugged; "I don't know where we are. Something's happened."
Suddenly, the driver's voice sounded over the intercom, informing us of the situation. We had stopped at a small abandoned platform in the middle of the California Countryside. It was an ancient relic from the steam and diesel era and was only used for emergency stops such as this. The driver explained that our train suffered an electrical fault and had to steer it into a siding so it could be inspected in the morning. Now, we weren't the only passengers aboard, so when we were instructed to leave the train, I didn't feel nervous or uncomfortable about it.
We grabbed our bags and alighted, stepping out onto the old and ravaged concrete platform. It had been reclaimed by nature over the years as moss and grass thrived between the cracks in the platform. The majority of the passengers made their way inside the old waiting room while we waited outside with the rest of them. The driver informed us that another train would be along to collect us in two hours, which came as a relief. At that moment, I felt as if this setback wouldn't hamper our trip in any way. We propped ourselves comfortably on our cases and waited for the next train, which was also the last one for the night.
After an hour, some of the passengers began to feel uneasy. We felt it too. It was as if the whole environment changed around us. The temperature began to drop and an ice-cold wind tore through us like a knife. It gave us bone chills to the point that we struggled to keep warm. It was very unusual for that time of year as this was the height of the summer. When the temperature changed, so did the atmosphere. The old station took on a creepy vibe as if it had come to life. A thick cloud of fog hugged the rails and the surrounding countryside as it slowly crawled across the platform and swept through the waiting room. It materialised from out of nowhere and it had this bizarre luminescence to it. After a minute or two, it began to glow an unearthly green colour, which undulated and pulsated like it was alive.
I cuddled into Gordon as I tried to conceal the rising terror within me. I didn't understand it at the time, unable to work out why this mysterious and eerie fog was scaring me so much. It honestly felt as if it was paving the way for an even bigger event. A voice in my head told me to get inside the waiting room, but I didn't want to. Curiosity had gotten the better of me, staving off the fear that wanted to grab me instead.
Gordon felt the same way about this situation too. His fight or flight reflexes kicked in, but he couldn't work out why. A few of the passengers cried, unsettled by the creepy fog which was now crawling up the side of the waiting room. Then, before Gordon could go to attend to the frightened passengers, that big event came. A large bright light appeared from our right as it cut through the glowing fog cloud like a knife. Visibility was poor at this point, so we couldn't tell if it was our train or not. Somehow, this fog cloud left us disoriented and confused. We lost our bearings along with the time. It was as if we had been cut off from the rest of reality. Sounds over dramatic I know.
We shielded our eyes as the light grew brighter with intensity. Whatever it was, it was heading for us. We figured it was our train, only we couldn't hear the mechanical drone of the engines. Instead, we heard the unmistakable sound of a horn. The sound you'd hear from an old steam locomotive. After the horn came the sound of metal wheels, screeching along the rusted rails. It grew louder and louder until it finally came into view. Our eyes widened when an old 19th-century train glided into the station, riding the blanket of clouds. It glowed in the same way as the fog, but it appeared solid enough to make out the interior of the railroad cars it was pulling. It came to a stop as a jet of steam, which shared the same glow as the fog, snaked across the platform at us with a hiss.
Gordon's curiosity had gotten the better of him. I gripped his arm, telling him to stay with me, but he had to get some answers. He wanted to get a look at the driver riding the footplate. I accompanied him, but every alarm in my body screamed at me to stay put. He looked at me with a sultry smile and tried to assure me that everything was alright.
"There's got to be an explanation for all of this," he said. "Let's go and speak to the driver. Perhaps he might know what's going on?"
"If you insist," I whispered. "But let's not take long huh? We need to assure the rest of the passengers that everything will be alright. They're just as scared as we are."
Gordon flashed me a smile. It was the type of smile which told me that he was lying.
"I never get scared." He smirked.
Yeah right. The train sat there as we stepped towards the footplate. Gordon grabbed the handlebars, lifting himself onto the footplate. Allowing his eyes to adjust to the dark, he locked eyes with a figure, just standing there like he was out of phase with our reality. He wore old driver's overalls which were stained with soot from the coal fire. His hat obscured the upper portion of his face, but when Gordon leaned over to get a better look at him, he made a startling discovery which drained the colour from his skin. He let out a loud "What the hell!?" Before leaping off the footplate faster than when he climbed it. I grabbed him by the shoulders, staring into his frightened eyes. He was sweating and his heart thumped away in his chest.
"It's okay, Gordon. Hey, look at me," I said as I felt him shake in my arms. "What did you see?"
"There was a man. He… He had no face!" Gordon trembled. "He… oh my god!"
"Hey, deep breaths. Come on. It's alright."
I guided him away from the train as we dragged our feet through the fog towards the waiting room. Gordon couldn't speak for the rest of the night, but he would later explain to me what he had seen. As I tried to make sense of what was going on, a loud ghostly whale sent shivers through my spine. I craned my neck just in time to watch the mysterious glowing railroad train pull out of the station. As soon as it glided off into the fog, it disappeared along with the vintage sounds that accompanied it.
And then, the mysterious fog evaporated, returning to the countryside and resetting the ambience to how it was before the incident. I looked down at my watch and saw that another hour had elapsed just like that, but the whole event felt as if it lasted a few minutes. As we all steadied our nerves, another light lit up the old platform from the darkness. This time, however, it came with the familiar droning sound of an engine. It was our last train home. The one we had been waiting for. When pulled up, we grabbed our cases and boarded the train without saying a word. The driver apologised for the long wait and said that we were entitled to compensation, but we didn't care about that.
We spent the remainder of the journey, nestled in each other's arms, trying to forget what happened out there. We didn't feel safe until we put that old station behind us. I don't know what to tell you, but we believe we had seen a ghost train. A residual manifestation of an old train journey from history. Perhaps it had ridden these rails during the great American expansion? Or perhaps it was the phantom of a train that had suffered a grizzly fate. Who knows? If you believe in the Stone Tape theory, then you'll know that it is possible.
We enjoyed the rest of our vacation, but it did put us off the trains for a little while. If we ever decide to take the train in the future, I hope we never have to stop at that old station again.