Hello all! This is a bit of a rush-job, because I wanted to get something out for Halloween, especially one of the scarier episodes. Honestly, Toby and the Flood was always one that gave me chills, primarily because of the awesome water effects and the genuinely tense music and Micheal Angelis dub. People say it's unrealistic, but I say it's one case when realism should take a back seat to a good story. It also gives me a nice chance to finish off Percy and Toby's estrangement storyline, and it's also a great way to move things ahead. This is going to be a good deal more serious than some of my previous episodes, but we should be able to mix together some comedic stuff next time. Mixed in with more spooks as well, obviously.
Bronze-Shield: I hope it lives up to the hype!
AaronCottrell97: I know, right!? XD.
Reality Rejection Service: Even Part James is Too Much James.
MattPrice01: That always confused me in the episode, figured writing it in would be funny. Glad you enjoyed!
Game-Watch: And the insanest is yet to come! Hope you enjoy!
CUE THE THEME
It had been raining hard for weeks. And as the small group at Tidmouth Town Hall gathered together, watching the Mayor listen to the report on the storm that was coming in, they couldn't help but feel a little nervy.
"I see. Thanks."
As Bedella put down the phone, everyone in the office looked at him, nervously. For a moment, he drummed his fingers upon the desk- HIS desk, he reminded himself- and tried to figure things out.
"Well?!" snapped Sir Topham Hatt "Bad? Good? Better?"
"Worse." Bedella said grimly. "That was my man down at the docks. They've closed the entire Brendam area down just in case, and they're waiting on the evacuation order from me." Bedella glanced out of the Town Hall's upper window. The wind was buffeting the cars and bikes and anything and everything that was nailed down or otherwise with great force. "Bloody nora!" He hurried through and closed the curtains. "The Sudrian Weather Association Chairman's down there as well. He's told me that we're looking at a full on flood in most areas. Especially ones near rivers or lakes, or anything like that."
"Did he mention any in particular?" asked the Deputy Mayor.
"Elsbridge, Hawin Croka, Hawin Doorey, Crosby, Hackenbach, Hawin Rusaagh, Callan, Hawin Ab...but the worst place they're worried about is Ulfstead. The village is perilously close to the resevoir, and that dam is not safe in the slightest. Drampf's lot built it, and we all know what that means."
Everyone nodded gravely.
"So, what now?"
"Now?" Hatt stood up. "Sir, I'm putting my railway at your disposal. I can't force any of my engines to go out in this weather, not when there's as big a risk as you say, but I'll get as many volunteers to the towns and villages. There's plenty of old nuclear bunkers left lying around after the Cold War ended, we can get them to safety."
"Good thinking, Sir Topham." And this, Bedella was sure to remind himself, was why the railway ran. Because as bad as it was with it, it would be ten times worse without it. "All emergency vehicles have already been commandeered to assist with evacuation, I just need to give the order. I'll head on out with Butch to see if there's anyone lost in the mountains."
"I can assist with that, sah!" The Head of the Sodor Air Force, who also acted as Harold's pilot, snapped a smart salute. His main job was usually debating over whether ordering twenty cakes for the staff party was fine, or whether to be sneaky and add ten more onto that load. But now that he had an actual crisis to deal with, he was ready and waiting. "Harold is waiting at Dryaw. And while it might be a bit chaotic out there at the moment, my first concern is for the floods. We can get to people you and Sir Topham can't. I can even dig out the Tiger Moths if you want, though they'll be a bit...rusty."
"Tiger Moths are to be held in as a last resort. But Harold's assistance would be greatly welcomed." As the Mayor ordered his deputy to make sure that any calls were directed through to his cell, and began giving the official evacuation order to every town and village he could, Hatt and Harold's pilot hurried down into the car.
It was going to be one of those days.
...
As it turned out, for all their flaws and personality squabbles, the engines were quick to volunteer help. They seemed to realize for once the gravity of this situation. Even if the best of the worst case scenarios happened, there would be little hope to get supplies in for a good few days. James and Gordon were the first to volunteer, much to everyone's shock. They spent the day sending people back and forth the major stations, where they were led into underground bunkers beneath the stations, while metallic shutters battened down the hatches at Tidmouth, Knapford, Crovan's Gate and Brendam. Soon they were joined by Henry and Edward, the two mixed traffic engine taking up roles as bad engines for the longer trains.
"How we doing?!" panted Henry.
"Well, you're losing some good weight, but I think we can do better!"
"Hardy ha, James! Hardy. Ha."
As they pulled into Wellsworth, they watched as Edward and Gordon rushed through with another seven coaches filled with people. "Damn." muttered Edward. "Hope we get there in time!"
"You worry too much! Let me give you a Thomas-eye view of things!" And Gordon picked up speed.
"AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!" screamed Edward, as Gordon swung and rattled and rolled all over the lines.
...
It has often been debated by many a scholar of the history of the Sudrian history and lore where the name 'Crovan's Gate' came from. They knew of the great battle that took place there, but they had never really been able to settle on a reason for it being named after the 'good king' that they thought they knew.
This great battle was supposedly a result of Godred holding off an army of vikings the like of which no one had ever seen before.
In reality...well, judge for yourself.
"Halt!" The king shouted back to his guards, and he dismounted from his steed to gaze upon the forest where Great Waterton was situated. It was relatively far away, but given a bit of time, they'd make it there before nightfall. Smiling to himself, he suddenly caught sight of...something, moving through the trees. He made a gesture, and his squire ran forth with his bow and arrow. Carefully, Godred took aim.
The unfortunate soul who was the first to die in the battle to come was Bella the Bus. She screamed in agony as the arrow embedded itself in her forehead, letting out a final blast of her horn before she expired.
"Ha! Child's play!" Godred smiled.
And then things went incredibly wrong for him.
"GODRED CROVAN OF ENGLAND."
The voice echoed all around. The knights all jumped out of their skins, and drew their weapons. Swords, bows and arrows, shields, sharpened staves, maces, axes, anything that they could have gotten their hand on. Godred looked nervous for a moment, before he chuckled in what he thought was a menacing tone. It sounded like a drunk cat with wind. "Look at them, lads! The little sods refuse to fight! Hiding away in the trees like a bunch of squirrels!"
"YOU HAVE COMMITTED CRIMES UNTOLD TOWARDS YOUR OWN KIND, AND TOWARDS THE ANCIENT MAGIC OF THIS ISLAND. FOR THAT, YOU AND YOUR MEN WILL BE PUNISHED."
"Oh will we?! Well, come on out then, your Majesty! Show us how magical creatures like you FIGHT!"
Silence. And Godred was about to say something very, very blithe like "See, lads! This is what happens when you're lead by a woman!" when a sudden whistle arose from all around.
And then, as one, the creatures began to emerge from all around. From the distant shores of Bluff's Cove, Knut of the Nogs lead his troops from the longboats and up towards the area. But of more immediate concern was the fact that the trees around them seemed to fall like a very eager lumberjack had gone a-chopping, as tractors, traction engines and construction vehicles cleared out and all hiding places for the humans to use to their advantage.
In the river not far from the battle ground, Poseidon, Tubby and an absolute massive mechanical boat (Wallace the Warship, to give him his true name) emerged from a clearing, all futuristic and historically inaccurate guns pointing directly at the knights. And from below the hill, cars, buses, steamrollers, bikes, lorries and anything and everything cut off any chance of escape.
Then came the Iron Circle. First, Catweazle, looking old and dignified despite his rather bedraggled robes. Then Alias and Meredith, the former supporting the latter even as he drew a laser pistol that was somehow even more inaccurate historically. From here and there zipped Willo the Wisp, his eyes fixated on the shiny armor with camp glee.
Below, Mr Benn and Carlin waited for their moment. Benn was calm, but Carlin was, understandably, not.
And high above, levitating over everyone and besides the aircraft, stood Lady, Proteus and the four Small Railway Engines.
"YOU ASKED FOR IT." Lady bellowed.
And the fight began.
...
Along the branch-lines, Thomas, Percy, Duck, Oliver and any other lighter class of engine that could be spared hurried back and forth, making sure that all was well.
"Percy! Head over to Ulfstead, I'm pretty sure that Toby's going to need some help! I've got this lot right here!" Thomas grimaced and wished desperately he had a cigarette or something that would get him high on him right now. This was the last stop they could afford to do, the River Els was in dangerously bad shape. The banks had already burst, and the bridge had nearly been swept clean away.
"Right!" Percy puffed on, reminded not for the first and probably not for the last time of his own incident with the flood. And how much mocking he had taken for that. Glancing up, he saw Harold swoop down across the sky, but ignored him.
He had more important things to do.
...
"Got another lot, doc!" shouted Oliver, over the wind. "Got trapped at the quarry, and I think some of them got knocked about a bit!"
"Good work, Oliver!" Duck called back, as the doctor tended to the wounded. "Listen, you get the coaches and trucks under tarpaulin, I'll make one last look around Bluff's Cove, and then once the twins get here, we'll call it a day!"
"Are you sure, Duck!? It's chaos out there!"
"Oh, don't worry about me! You're the one who escaped from scrap!"
"That's right! I am!"
"WHY, MR DUCK!?" wailed Toad. Laughing to himself, Duck took off in the general direction of the beach. He knew that it was incredibly unlikely that anyone would be there, but it was at times like these that people did crazy things.
...
One engine doing crazy things was Rheneas, who was crossing the Castle Causeway with grim determination. Some bloody fools had gone backpacking in the weather, and had nearly ended up getting trapped in the Skarloey lake, which now appeared to be overflowing to dangerous levels.
Rheneas was having some nasty flashbacks to the last time he had been crossing this causeway in such weather. "Golly gee!" he remarked, in a mockery of Skarloey's tone for him "I do sure dang hope that I don't gee wilikers get trapped out here oh boy no!"
"You sound Minnesotan." grunted the driver.
Rheneas growled. Already the others, removed from the quarry due to dangerous weather, would be snug and warm in the sheds. And here he was having to play rescue engine.
Sometimes it just wasn't fair.
...
"Come in, Bertie!"
"Thanks! Thanks, thanks thanks, oh god it's freezing as all hell outside!"
"Hell's hot, isn't it?" Terrance remarked, still smiling. You could practically see icicles hanging from his teeth.
Trevor laughed shakily. "Don't worry lad, it's all fine. Got anymore, Bertie?"
A couple of stragglers staggered out and gathered round a small fire that the Fat Clergyman had started to keep the many people here in the orchard barn warm.
"That's the last lot I was able to find. I'm heading back out to take another looksee-"
"In this weather?! Ah do declare, Bertie, that is positively ridiculous! Y'all be ran off the road as sure as ah'm actually a genuine Southern Belle!"
"She makes a good argument, despite the fact that I didn't understand a word that she just said!" Trevor looked weary. "As much as the thought of any poor sods out there in the cold terrifies me, at this point, we road vehicles aren't going to be much use."
"The mud's getting too thick even for my caterpillar tracks. And I'm not going to lie, but I might actually stop smiling if I have to force my way through."
Everyone shuddered. No one wanted to see Terrance when he wasn't smiling. That was a thought too horrible for words. Bertie sighed, and consented to stay. Soon they all began singing 999 bottles of beer on the wall.
It was going to be a long night.
...
"ARE THE TWINS BACK IN!?" BoCo had to shout over the wind to be heard. The quarry was rattling and shaking, and many of the equipment were left outside to the mercy of the elements. At this rate, all the diesel cared about was making sure that they had all gotten out of the quarry okay.
"YEP!" bellowed back Mavis. "FIRES HAVE BEEN DAMPED DOWN, JUST TO MAKE SURE! THE FOREMAN SAYS THAT'S ALL HIS LOT FROM THE SOUTH SIDE!"
"MINE SAYS THE SAME ABOUT THE NORTH! I THINK WE'VE GOT THEM ALL! MOVE OUT!"
...
Metal and blood were spilled in great measure that day.
With the greatest of respect to the Knights of Camelot, Carlin had no doubt that if push had come to shove, and they had had to fight Lady's forces, there would have been a lot less of Arthur returning to that lake and awaiting Britain's hour of need. And these knights were no Arthurian legends.
The captain who had captured Carlin was currently swinging an axe around like a madman. He had gotten lucky and felled Saul the Steamroller, along with two motorbikes and a rather cocky car. But now he was facing down one of Lady's own creations, the one called Bert. The blue engine took an axe blow right to the face, and then smiled somewhat sleepily.
Then, and there is no other way that it can be put, he promptly smote the man in a second.
Everyone paused, even Lady and Proteus, who looked both shocked and, dare they say it, proud.
Then everyone converged upon Bert. But even as they did so, more of them were melted down by blasts of energy from Mike, the red one, who roared and spat out curses so advanced and yet so simple that it was quite possible that it was the pure venom and heat of his words that fried the knights.
Meanwhile, the non-vehicles were holding up well too. The two wizards muttered spells and bellowed chants as best they could, transforming burly knights into tiny bunny rabbits, and quick striking bowman into baffled looking trees holding bow shaped carrots. Willo was quick on his lack of feet, darting in and out of people's minds and turning their own forces on each other. Alias spun around and piriouetted, blasting away at anyone who came near them. And amongst all of this, the Vikings and their leader, Knut, slashed and hacked their way via the more traditional method.
Benn and Carlin stood back from the carnage, the latter was no fighter, and Mr Benn had a dislike for this kind of violence. He understood it necessary, but he did not want to get involved unless he had to.
"You look troubled, Mr Benn...can I call you something else? Do you have a first name?"
"Of course."
"...Well?"
"I do not believe it would be appropriate to tell you at this time. We barely know each other."
The head of one of the knights flew over the hill and landed at their feet. They took little notice, and the only sign that they did notice it was Benn casually kicking it away like a football.
"So...why this? Why this life? I imagine that you don't just use the shop to do missions for Hargreaves or whatever."
"It is true. One day, I was looking for a fancy dress costume. I found this shop in a little back alley somewhere, took up the costume of a knight, went through and saved the life of a dragon. And then I went home. And then I came back, time after time after time after time, being sent wherever the strange shop would send me, and always leaving me with a souvenir. Always. And then after a time, the people that I worked for found out about it. And to keep my job, and the shop, safe, I agreed to work for Hargreaves."
There was more to this story, Carlin could tell, but at that moment, he was rudely interrupted.
The Warship had arrived.
...
"Oh come on, come on! What the hell is taking you feces eaters so long to get me down!?"
"I swear to God, we could just throw you in the water now and be done with you." growled the dockmen aggressively. Cranky gulped and was silent, mercifully. He was being dismantled, just in case the worst came to the worse. The water slammed into the dockside with the force of a heavyweight boxer swinging his most devastating right hook into an egg.
As the crew placed Cranky aboard the truck and started off, they failed to notice the tall and towering figure of the Juggernaut loom in the old Sodor Shipping and Co building. He moved out.
...
Duck ran along the coast, running hard with the wind whistling past him, whipping into his face like punches. He shrugged them off as best as he could, but it was getting harder and harder. He looked around, and tried to see something through the rain pummeling down upon the beach. He knew that the coastguard had removed Bulstrode and any other living boats to a safe place, but he wanted to make sure that no one else had been left out here.
And then he saw it.
The Juggernaut.
He had seen exactly one photograph of the engine, but it was impossible for him to be mistaken on this fact.
In the storm it was impossible to see how close or far the massive engine was to him. But Duck wasn't willing to take any chances. He began to back away as fast as he could.
But the Juggernaut was faster. He plowed through a large stretch of waterlogged track as though it was nothing, and rushed at Duck with the force of a mad stampede of elephants.
Duck desperately tried to swing and knock at him with any punches from his buffers, but the armor made it the equivalent of trying to take down a tank with a pea shooter. The Juggernaut let out something that may have been a roar, but may have just been the sound of steam hissing out from the vents. There was a bright red glow that pierced the night's darkness, before with a deafening clap of thunder, the Juggernaut slammed Duck against the cliff.
Then he did it again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And he was just rearing back to deliver one final blow, when two whistles pierced the night. Looking at Duck for a moment, he backed away as fast as he could, letting out a menacing horn-whistle blast as he did so.
The last thing Duck saw before passing out was the concerned looks on Jinty and Pug's faces as they began to drag him back.
...
Toby was upset.
"WHY ME!?" he wailed. He didn't usually weep and complain about his jobs, but damn it, he was too old for this shit, and now he had to go up there and examine a dam. Not just any dam, but a dam that was as stable as a typical night at Tidmouth Sheds.
"Because life hates us." said his driver.
Everywhere he looked, there was wet, wet, wet. Tom Tipper had been dragged off to the bunker screaming in sorrow over having to abandon his beloved van to the elements. He too was quite wet, in another sense.
Toby's old branch-line had run through the village of Ulfstead when it was still active, and therefore Toby was declared to be the one who knew most about the terrain. This was nothing special. It's a bit like saying that you've had chicken pox so much that you've become the expert on it's effects. With the influx of rain, the water level had risen dangerously. And only the stone wall, known as Ulstead Dam It All To Hell stood in the way of overflowing. And even that was debatable.
Toby had to go up there and inspect the dam for any problems. He was not looking forward to it. Why some idiot had decided to put, of all things, a railway line on a dam was beyond him. Why not something better, like the ability to convert it to electricity, or perhaps a ping-pong table, or anything that wasn't a railway line.
As Percy pulled in, he looked wearily at the old tram. They still weren't properly back on speaking terms yet, and it worried him. But he had to warn him. "Driver tells me it might be dangerous up there! He...he likes to tell me the frigging obvious." Toby snorted, which gave Percy hope. "Hey, and be careful, please, okay?"
"I'll try." said Toby, bravely. He hesitated. "Uh, Percy...we...can we talk later?"
"S-Sure! That'd be great!"
"Cracking. See you then, mate." And as Toby trundled away, he felt a little bit better.
Not much.
The line ran over a old wooden bridge that was so small that even a narrow gauge engine would have trouble fitting upon it. Toby groaned, as he heard the sound of the river racing on by. The suspiciously brown river that indicated that this was where the River Els's stain on the environment had taken up a new home. At last, he squeaked through, and he started his long descent to the top of the dam.
The world swayed, and if for a moment he felt the tiniest hint of a twinge in his firebox, he ignored it. It was to be expected, after all.
Harold the Helicopter was making his own inspections while he waited for the next call to take care of. He was grim, an unusual mood for him to be sure. He gave a little wink to Toby, and the engine managed a wan smile.
"Be brave, Toby! We have to cross to the other side!"
"OH DO WE?!" shouted Toby, in pure rage. But still he carried on. The slight twinge had become a minor throbbing dullness now. Still Toby thought nothing of it. The tram was halfway across when horror of horrors, his driver and the pilot noticed something at the same time.
What had been a trickle soon became a steady stream of water. First it sprang from one side, then another, then two more, then three more.
"The dam's breaking up!" called the driver, who was ruing volunteering Toby for this mission more and more with each passing second. "We've got to warn the others!"
"I'll phone ahead, old boy!" called Harold as he flew off. Toby shuffled back with as great a speed as he could, and now he was aware of the throbbing dullness becoming a very definite stabbing agony.
"Something's wrong!" he snarled through teeth gritted in pain. As he turned around to head back towards the bridge, he gasped in and out, deep shuddering breaths of air.
...
Percy was waiting for Toby as the tram reached the bridge. Both gasped as they looked down. The river had risen so high that it was now lapping at the very line itself. The supports were almost non-existent at this point, the water wrapping around them and, with every tug, bringing it nearer to disaster.
Toby arrived and looked at Percy. Then at the bridge. "THE DAM'S BREAKING UP!" he heard the driver bellow, but the pain was too much for him to speak up properly. "We've got to find high ground!"
"The only way across is over the bridge!" Percy shouted back.
"It doesn't look safe to me!" wheezed Toby, the stabbing becoming a loud roaring in his head. He felt himself sway from side to side.
"Tough shit, old boy! It's our only chance! If that dam breaks, we're done for!"
Toby growled, and through his pain, began to chuff across, but slowly. With every turning of his wheels he felt his frame shudder with pain, and his head pounded and pounded like a bongo drum.
And then he started gasping for air, coughing and spluttering, desperately trying to inhale the oxygen. He staggered on as best he could, even as Percy started forward, he let out a final gasp "NO! DON'T!" and forced himself on. But he was only halfway across when disaster struck. The problems had caused his fire to collapse, and he ground to a stop as the driver and fireman scrambled for the coal.
And then it happened.
With a loud smash like a shot being fired, the dam caved in under all the pressure.
...
THE ORCHARD.
"OH-"
...
KNAPFORD.
"-MY-"
...
CROVAN'S GATE.
"-BLOODY-"
...
BLUFF'S COVE.
"-GOD!"
...
As everyone around the Island said the same thing at the exact same time, Toby tried to force himself onwards, but the surge of water from the reservoir rushed down with such speed and force that the fence holding the bridge in place snapped, and the supports gave way with a painfully loud snap.
"HELP!"
And Toby, clinging for dear life onto a piece of wood that was now more driftwood than bridge, began to float away from the track.
Percy stared in dumbstruck horror as his friend drifted away from him, but his driver was quicker on the uptake. "Quickly lad! We'll follow him down the line! It meets the river further down! We might just have a chance!" And as Percy began to back away, he prayed to God, Buddha and any other deity that would hear his plea that Toby be safe.
Elsewhere, Harold watched this with dawning horror. Then, a grim determination gripped him. This was the time! Harold the Helicopter, pride of the sky, was going to be first to the rescue, cause help was required! And so saying, he swooped down towards the river.
Toby had managed to regain control of his body, though the pain was still there, he could relegate it to the background. Unfortunately, by this point it was too late for him to do anything about his predicament, and as he floated helplessly along the shattered piece of bridge, he and his crew saw a sign that made them all shudder:
BEWARE THE WATERFALL.
"How did they manage to put a sign there?! They must have impressive arms!" remarked the fireman.
"Focus!" snapped the driver. "If we go over that waterfall, we're doomed! Well, Toby's mostly doomed. We might be lucky and escape with a few broken bones."
"THANKS!" snapped Toby. He was in a foul mood, and all he could think about was all the things that he hadn't done before he had headed to the dam. Said goodbye to his friends properly, get to see beyond the Island, tell Henrietta that he lo-
And then they saw Harold, who upon spotting them, swooped down and shouted urgently!
"URGENTLY!"
The old ones are the best.
"We're going to throw a rope down to you! Attach it, quickly now!"
And they did. Right on the fireman's face. "AAARGH!" he declared, before nearly falling in the water. At last, he recovered and attached the rope to Toby's right buffer, wrapping it firm and tight around there.
"Now what?!"
"Er, don't know, old chap. I rather hoped you'd have an idea!"
Just as the three on the driftwood had lost any hope of living again, Percy arrived at lightning speed. He very nearly went off the rails himself, as Harold's eyes lit up and be moved over to solid ground. As he moved, the tram let out a rather undignified squawk as he was very nearly tugged off of his raft. "Catch the rope, and pull TOby to safety!"
The crew grabbed at the rope and very quickly tied it on to Percy's buffers.
"I KNEW NOT SKIPPING WHEEL DAY WAS A GOOD IDEA!"
"Shut up, Baldwin, no one likes you."
It was hard work. This was the most important tug of war that the Island had ever seen it's long life time. The river was determined to force Toby over the waterfall, and Percy was equally as determined to get his friend back safely. With every tug, Percy felt his wheels grinding against the rail, sending sparks flying everywhere. The rain hadn't helped things either, and the driver and fireman had to throw down as much sand as possible to try and get a grip.
And yet, wheel turn by wicked wheel turn, Percy slowly gained ground, until at last, with a satisfying 'CLUNK', the bridge touched the land, and Toby's driver and fireman were able to drive Toby back onto the rails. Without a second's thought, they untied the rope and watched as the bridge sailed gaily over the waterfall, smashing at the bottom.
"Come on." said Percy, wearily. "Let's go home."
"Yeah...Percy."
"Yep?"
"Can we just get really drunk?"
"You got it?"
...
"THE HELL IS THAT THING?!" snapped Carlin.
"Bad news." said Benn, with all the shock and awe of someone discovering that a white line was a slightly different shade of white than had been expected.
The Warship, manned by a crew of three men, charged forward, waving it's claw around in what was attempting to be scary, but was in fact only mildly annoying. Laughter greeted this, and Godred, having backed away from the fight, was furious. His magician had lied to him!
Then Jay-Jay the Jet Place got a little too close.
A blood-like substance splattered over the ground, as the skull of the plane was crushed in the claw of the great iron monstrosity. Any mirth that could have been had from this situation was soon gone,
Proteus was about to move down and attack, when Lady stopped him. "NO. WE SHOULD SEE WHAT OUR CHILDREN CAN DO FIRST."
And so, they stayed back. Stayed back as the green one, Rex, stormed through and with cheerful abandon struck down solider after soldier like wheat through a scythe. He whistled cheerfully, almost completely unaware of the great Warship, which cut through the bodies of gathered vehicles like a knife through butter.
The Iron Circle regrouped at the bottom.
"What now?!" called Meredith, who was out of puff.
"Now, we leave it to them." Catweazle informed, grimly. "Look." And he pointed in the general direction of Ulfstead Castle, to where a lone horse was rushing on it's way back there.
"Follow them? But the battle's-"
"Won, already, Alias." Catweazle sighed, wiping his brow. "it may not look it, but I have no doubt that they will not take long in destroying the army of Godred. It is time for us to confront the villain of this piece."
And so they left. But as they did so, Carlin and Benn turned back, just in time to see, with an all mighty roar, the Warship charge at Jock. The yellow engine smiled in a rather callous way, and then...
Well, if what Bert had done was smiting, then this was somehow even cleaner than that. Because at the very least, Bert had left something behind to show that the person had existed.
In Jock's case, what he had done was the equivalent of completely erasing any sign that the Warship and her crew had ever been there. There was just a slight little breeze on the grass, and then nothing. It was gone. Completely.
And then Lady and Proteus turned their attention to the castle.
For the rider on the horse was King Godred.
People wonder why Crovan's Gate is named as such. It is because of this, the moment that King Godred Crovan, the last king of Sodor, abandoned his men to a fight they could not win.
His last stand was just around the corner.
...
The storm lasted for three days, all in all. Eventually, a makeshift dam was set up once the storm had ended, albeit one that was more solid and had better foundations. It was a temporary one, until such time as they had worked out what they should do with it. And down at Ulfstead, where thanks to Toby's bravery all of the people had been able to evacuate in time, they were holding a celebration to honor him. Harold, Bertie, Terrance, Trevor and Caroline were all there to see him get his reward, and Percy was proudest of all.
The Fat Controller hosted the party, and gave a speech. "You were very brave, Toby. Sorry about sending you up there, it was a bad mistake on my part."
"Ah, it's okay sir, just give me a pay rise and I'll forget all about it. It's really Harold that you should thank!"
"Nothing to it, chap!"
"I could never have been so brave, Toby." Percy muttered.
"Oh, I'm sure you would. You'll never know until you try."
Percy hoped he never would have to.
But he would. Eventually.
...
"He got lucky!"
"No, he didn't. He took me out good and proper! I would have been dead if it weren't for the fact that he had picked the worst night of the year to attack." Duck growled as the Works Diesel's men accidentally prodded a rather sensitive area of his face. "Do you MIND?!"
The Works Diesel looked at Duck, and then angrily smacked him in the buffers. Duck screeched as pain suddenly rushed through his entire front, and the Works Diesel smirked as he headed off to give some more assistance. Duck was pretty much in terrible shape. His bufferbeam was all bent of shape, his boiler had taken huge dents all over, and that wasn't even getting into all the damage that the rainwater had done to him.
"So now what?"
"Now?" Duck looked grim. "We call up Truro. It's time we got ourselves a little bit of backup."