Chapter Eight: Lost in Snow

The weather was showing no sign of stopping, and Gordon wondered if the Island would be buried again by morning… if he even made it through the rest of the night.

The big blue engine was going as fast and as safely as possible, desperate to get home and be done with his long night. Edward was moving behind him, and Gordon had to control his speed so that he would not leave Edward behind. Marco was travelling behind Edward but on the line next to them, as his driver seemed to have trouble keeping him under speeds that were not going to cause a three-engine pile up. It was dangerous enough having Gordon and Edward on the same line, but both engines were moving slowly due to the weather and the snow covering the line, and the two blue engines were on the look out for anything that could cause any more accidents.

All around them they could only see snow. Gordon's lamp was lighting up the way ahead, and snow was spread across every line. His plough could easily push it all aside, but Gordon knew that there was always a chance that he would not be so lucky. This was the sort of weather where the tracks would completely disappear, shed doors would become buried and walls of snow was slide across the tracks and endanger all those that passed. The big engine was half expecting to come across a large snow drift before they reached Crovan's Gate, but they had passed the Norramby Branch Line now, and knew it was only a short while now until they made it to the Works Station.

Once I have made it there and we can leave Marco behind, I can finally go home, Gordon thought as he chuffed proudly around a bend, and instantly wondered if Marco would be titling. He tried to look behind, but could only see the blinding white of his head lights. It was disappointing, as Gordon had only wanted to meet this visitor in order to see his new abilities, and had ended up with only having insults thrown his way.

Old – BAH! I am not old… at least not as old as Thomas and Edward. It may seem that way to such a new fangled piece of nonsense like him, but I have experience, I know this line better than any other engine! I still have a few good years left in me! Gordon tried to reassure himself of these things, but as soon as the positive thoughts crossed his mind, he remembered the fact Pip and Emma were now taking the Express, and how new, flashy engines were being brought in.

"Your quiet," Edward called out from behind him. His voice seemed barely above a whisper, nearly lost in the wind that howled around them, making the snow swirl around them.

"Just lost in thought," Gordon replied in the same sombre tones. He sighed, letting it be carried off by the wind, and briefly shut his eyes, imaging a warmer, sunnier day many years ago, him racing down the lines with a long line of coaches rattling behind, the wind seeming to part as he roared along the railway with smoke billowing into the air… "Do you ever feel old, Edward?"

"Constantly," the blue engine replied instantly, and the two friends laughed. "Tonight, more so than ever," Edward added, casting a glancing look back at Marco, who was straggling a few metres behind out of ear shot. "How about you?"

"There have only been a few times where I have really felt old," Gordon replied. "Most of them have to do with Pip and Emma, but tonight, I too have felt the sting of the words from the modern age." Both engines glanced back at Marco, who seemed oblivious to the fact he was even still travelling with them, and they both felt pangs of irritation.

"Try not to let it get to you," Edward said, even though he could think of little else than Marco's ignorant rudeness. "You are far from being old Gordon; yes, you may be nearing one hundred, but at least you are still capable of going such long distances with ease. I can barely manage going up and down my branch line more than a few times a day, I could never manage doing that on the Main Line! Be glad that you still have your strength and speed."

"Oh really? If I am still strong and fast, why did the Fat Controller take the Express away from me?" Gordon asked, trying to control his emotions.

"Pip and Emma are able to go without stopping and transferring over straight to London, it was a matter of time that you could not manage," Edward said. "There are no water towers or coal hoppers on the Other Railway, you would have to have an extra tender like the Flying Scotsman!"

"An engine that has apparently been forgotten!" Gordon scoffed, and Edward quickly remembered what Marco had said. The two engines fell silent as they dwelled over this, thinking of how the heroes of their age were now disappearing into obscurity. They carried on for a minute or two in silence, the only noise being the wind, their movements and the crunch of the snow as Gordon pushed it aside.

"Doesn't even remember him," the big engine grunted huffily. "What sort of engines are they making these days if they don't even think about their predecessors that got them to where they currently are? That metal snake behind you wouldn't be alive if we hadn't been built first! He should be grateful!" Edward had to agree on this point, and glanced back again at the oblivious diesel behind them.

"They may be flashier, but they certainly aren't smarter," he muttered, but Gordon managed to hear him and let out a great booming laugh.

"A big silver idiot that is supposed to revolutionise us all!" He chuckled. "I always thought something smarter would replace me when it came time to go."

"You aren't going to be replaced!" Edward said, saying it loudly to comfort himself as well as Gordon. "He is here for Peel Godred, not for us!"

"How long until the Fat Controller decides he wants one for himself?" Gordon replied, and Edward fell silent, having thought of this idea himself a few times. It seemed unlikely that any of them would ever be replaced, not after being on the line for so many years and with so many new steam engines being brought over the past few years in preparation for the extension and redevelopment. Yet there was always a possibility that it could happen, and the engines could never avoid it.

Edward and Gordon both snapped out of their thoughts as Marco suddenly appeared beside them, moving nearly silently within the howling wind. They wondered if he had heard what they had said, but Marco made no mention of it and looked confused rather than angry.

"How far away are we from this Crovan's Gate?" The visitor asked, and Edward noted his windows were down so his driver could hear.

"Not very far, only a few minutes I imagine," Gordon replied, wondering why he was asking.

"Oh good, I am getting bored waiting back there, this journey is really dragging on, isn't it?" Marco said in his clipped, posh voice. "I am going to go on ahead if it is not too far!"

"You really shouldn't," Gordon said severely. "With this weather, you don't know what will be waiting for you, and the yard could have lost power or something and be shrouded in darkness."

"That's why I have my own lights silly!" Marco scoffed, and he suddenly gathered speed. Gordon cried out and sounded his whistle, the loud 'peep' eerie due to the howling wind, sounding like a ghost emerging from the snow, yet it did nothing to stop Marco, and within seconds he was gone.

"Fool!" Gordon shouted. "It's a snowstorm and he is racing off through unfamiliar territory! What if Henry or James is still on the line, there could be a crash!"

"We'll just have to try and catch up to him," his driver shouted back, and Gordon began to gather speed, sending snow flying as he began his chase. Edward was forced to move faster as well, yet he was already tired from his long journey, and the blue engine wondered if he would make it back to Wellsworth as he ploughed through the snowy line, the storm seeming to get stronger, the night appearing darker with every second that passed.

The Ulfstead Extension was the main focus of Thomas' Branch Line. It was going to open the small town up to railways for the first time, with a new station being built within the centre of the town and a long line connecting it with Ffarqhuar. The line snaked through a similar landscape to the rest of the branch line, with wide, open farms and small cottages dotted all over the place, as the route area was largely unpopulated. It was only a few metres away from the road, and as it reached the town, it passed over a river and by an elevated forest and castle that would help form part of the new line's attraction.

Currently, the extension only went up to the river as the weather was making it difficult to build the bridge. The fence separating road and rail stopped a mile before this point as well, and there were no street lamps here, casting the entire line in darkness and making it extremely dangerous.

However, Thomas did not care about the danger.

He roared down the snow covered line, sending a thick column of smoke into the snow filled sky, trying to keep his eyes open despite the frozen flakes always getting in. His lamp showed nothing but snow, no distinction between the fields and the road, and Thomas knew that he should not be going this fast on an unfinished track over a river, but he could only think about what Henry had said to him, and the insults he had thrown Percy's way.

I am not the one that has stupid accidents! Thomas told himself as he roared down the snowy track, snowplough tearing through the blockage. Henry is the one who got locked in a tunnel and pushed by an elephant! Or what about Gordon and his whistle or James and the tar wagons, they are all sillier than the things my accidents!

And Percy! But as his friend crossed his mind again, Thomas paused in his thoughts, his anger faltering for a moment as a feeling of guilt came across had dawned to him as he had thrown his insults at Percy that they were unfounded and unnecessary, and Thomas knew he was just venting his anger, but at the same time it had also felt right. Percy had had just as many if not more embarrassing accidents over the years as Thomas had, yet Henry had specifically picked out the blue tank engine.

Of course, I had been there, not Percy, and I could have goaded him on… Thomas thought, and his guilt began to grow. He was tired and sore, having spent all day taking Annie and Clarabel up and down the line, and then waiting for a delivery that had been late. Henry's jibe had simply increased Thomas' weariness and stress, and Percy's bothering had been the last straw. If it had not been him, it could have easily been anyone else, but Thomas would not have felt this horrible about it.

I shouldn't have said those things! He thought, beginning to feel like a really horrible engine. Oh god, what is Percy going to think! He is such a big fan of the holidays, this could easily ruin it for him! I didn't mean any of it, I have to apologize when I see him next… I hope he understands…

This thought instantly left Thomas' mind as he crashed through something solid.

The unfinished line had basically been abandoned a few days earlier due to the sudden down pour of weather making laying any more tracks very dangerous. Construction equipment lay scattered everywhere, and the line opened up onto nothingness. The project manager had ordered a collapsible set of buffers to place at the end of the track to prevent any trains going into the river, along with a snow clearing machine that would be used in the morning to help pack up all the equipment that had been left behind. But as they had to be ordered in from England, fluorescent signs had been put up instead as a warning and a simple orange plastic fence across the tracks.

Thomas should have been looking out for this, but his mind had wandered elsewhere, and the thick flurry of snow had ended up knocking it all over. His crew could not properly see the way ahead of Thomas despite his light, and they had relied upon their engine for a warning.

Instead, the first sign they got was Thomas smashing into the barrier.

"What the –" Thomas cried as the fence was crushed by his much heavier weight, falling beneath his wheels and breaking in seconds. Something strange cracked, but Thomas became too distracted as his wheels left the rail, suddenly sinking through soft snow yet still moving forwards.

I was going too fast! Thomas thought, too shocked to think of anything else. He felt his driver apply the brakes to try something to stop, but Thomas bounced along the uneven ground with nothing ahead except the river ahead. A light feeling came around his buffers as if a weight had been removed, and Thomas watched in shock to see his snowplough disappearing beneath his wheels. An unimaginable pain came through, and Thomas yelled out as he rolled over the angled object and rolled onto his side. Screams from his crew echoed out of his cab, but they were quickly silenced as Thomas fell sideways into the snow, disappearing through the flakes and sliding downwards.

I hate snowploughs, Thomas thought bitterly, and there was silence, everything sounding quiet as he lay in the snow, the wind already beginning to bury his other side, and the blue tank engine knew that there was nothing more he could do but lay there…

The story is coming to a close now! What will happen to Thomas now that he has crashed? And what fate awaits the four engines moving towards Crovan's Gate...