Things went well after that. Johnny settled into the SVR's main station as a switcher with Marion. They soon become very close friends.
He also befriended Scout, Cedric, and Eagle, and learned more about them.
Scout was an intellectual. She was smart and kind, but could be very caustic. She was medium-freight engine, and often joined the missions.
Cedric was the line's heavy freight and passenger engine. He was good-natured but grumpy. Having lived most of his life in a filthy scrap yard, he could handle conditions the others would have found unendurable.
Eagle was rather vain and prideful, and often prone to bouts of hypochondria. He could be intolerable at times, but he had a good heart. He was the smallest tender engine, a 4-4-2 Atlantic.
Johnny didn't go on any more missions after the first night. "We don't usually take tank engines," explained Scout. "Nothing personal. Tank engines just don't hold up too well on long journeys."
But Johnny was happy. This life had nothing to complain about.
"Are there any other movements like this one?" he asked Marion one evening.
"Not really. You get a few groups of two or three trying to do something, but they're almost always caught. The loners don't know about us, and they probably don't care."
Johnny flushed with embarrassment as he considered that, until recently, he too had been a "loner".
The next morning Johnny was preparing a train of supplies when Dylan walked up.
"You need to take a coal supply train down the line to Old Gorge."
"I'm on it," said Johnny, and he wheeshed away.
Old Gorge wasn't too far away, but you did have to go through diesel lines part of the way. Johnny set out for the foothills.
He had only gone a few miles when he noticed the deterioration of the rails. He braked to avoid damaging the fragile track. The trucks were being troublesome, and Johnny didn't notice as he passed the red signal.
He was nearly to the branch line to Old Gorge when he heard the hum of a diesel motor.
"Well, censored," muttered Johnny. He could make out the form of a local freight train rattling down the other line. It wasn't going too fast. Hopefully, Johnny could outrun it.
Then he saw that one of the engines at the front was an R5. And it had seen him.
"Censored, unprintable, removed," swore Johnny. The R5 was on his line. He couldn't push it out of the way, and he couldn't outrun it going backwards with a heavy load.
He wouldn't be taken again. He wouldn't.
The R5 rolled forward. The train's other engine, a GP99, rolled away, looking apprehensive.
"A steamer, is it?" cackled the R5. "What've you got there?"
Johnny slowly started to reverse. He might not be able to get away, but he could try.
"Oh no. You're coming with me," said the R5.
Just then, it rocketed forward and derailed. Something had pushed it, and hard. The impact was so great that it turned nearly ninety degrees before toppling on its side.
The smoke cleared, and a steam engine stood before Johnny.
"Sorry 'bout that," said the engine.
It was an 0-6-0 tank engine like Johnny, but was much older. Its paint had all been worn away, and it was a rich rusty red. Despite this, it looked strong.
"Should've said something, but then I would've lost the element of surprise. You alright?"
"Y-yes," stammered Johnny.
"Good." He cast an appraising eye at the R5. "Doesn't look too badly damaged. He'll survive. Where's the other one?"
The GP99 and its train were long gone.
"Who- who are you?" asked Johnny uncertainly.
The engine smiled. "My name's Thomas."