Chapter 7: Fortitude
Snippy sat on his tree stump, struggling with the zipper of his backpack on the ground, which seemed to have gotten stuck. The jittery Pilot sat next to him, curiously looking around, his head bobbing to a song the sniper couldn't hear.
"Hey Snippy-snapper... What's that?" Pilot asked his comrade, intently gazing out of the forest.
"What is what?" the sniper replied with a sigh.
"That brown and black square shaped thing over there that looks like one room of a skyscraper! Can't you see it?"
Glancing at Pilot for a second, Snippy saw him pointing at a small hut in the distance and got up, squinting through the gleams of light.
"Oh, that. Looks like an old shed to me, probably abandoned, though you can never be sure who or what you'll find these days. Do you want to have a look inside? We could go check it out together," the sniper suggested, and as Pilot nodded approvingly, they began to approach it.
The windows were covered from within, so peeking inside was not an option. Positioned by both sides outside of the door ready to attack, Pilot gave Snippy a nod, before the sniper kicked in the door and Pilot glanced past the edge, hands clenching tightly around his metal walking stick. But besides a lot of dust they just raised there was absolutely no movement to be seen.
After making sure that it was safe, Snippy stepped inside and removed the curtains from the windows, letting some light in. Then he took a closer look at all the junk that was stored in there.
"Snippy!" Pilot suddenly yelled, and the other man spun around, instinctively attaining a defensive stance.
"What are you yelling for?! There's nothing there to- wait what's this?" he uttered and skipped over to Pilot, whose full attention was directed at a rectangular structure standing by the wall.
But it was covered by a dirty old blanket, so Snippy couldn't really tell what it was. Eagerly Pilot unfastened the ropes that held the dust covered cloth together, almost flinging one of the ropes into Snippy's face, and finally set free a big wooden sled.
For a moment they both just stared at the thing as if it had eyes. Seeing how big it was, Snippy came to the conclusion that they could probably both fit onto it. Next he pictured himself and Pilot sliding down the mountain on said sled - but his thoughts abruptly ended as his companion broke the silence with a chuckle.
"I want to be the first one to try it!" he burst out like a child that just received a new Christmas present and proceeded to take the sled outside, using it as a crutch to help him walk.
Snippy watched him go and couldn't help but snicker, because the way he used it made Pilot look like an old man with a walking frame. Then the thought that Pilot could dash off without him crossed his mind, so he immediately hurried after him.
Back outside, he found Pilot sitting on the sled, making race car sounds and leaning in all directions, his mind already on the road. Snippy approached him and picked up the long rope that was attached to the front in a loop.
"Pull me, Snippy!" Pilot eagerly urged him, his voice filled with joy.
The sniper glanced around to double-check if nothing was following them, then he picked up the excessively long rope from the snow and sloppily wrapped it into a bundle, before pulling the sled away from the shed. They hadn't gotten very far as Snippy spotted a big framed board, still standing at the side of a road. He assumed it to be an advertisement for nearby mountain lodges and ski lift services, though as he approached the sign, all his assumptions were proven wrong and he suddenly felt his hopes rise as he realized that he just found a map of the entire region.
He picked up a big rock and smashed it into the window, the glass shattering with a satisfying sound. After moving aside the remaining fragments, he proceeded to carefully take the map out, folding it nicely and storing it in his jacket, so he could look at it again once he found a spot from where he could see down into the valley in order to get an idea of where they even were and what direction led home.
Up to this point he didn't even know for sure if they had been walking the right direction, but now he finally had a clue. The exact distance wasn't written on the map, as it was just an old-fashioned printed paper that wasn't digitalized in any way, but he knew they must be at least 300 km away from home – a distance nearly impossible to travel by foot. But first they would need to get off this damn mountain.
As the sniper continued pulling the sled over the uneven terrain and bypassed a few more trees, he spotted a ledge where a wooden bench was planted in the ground. A lookout? The forest down below was clearly less dense in that area, so perhaps this spot could grant him a sight down into the valley. Once he was there, he could-
"Hey Snippy..." his companion suddenly interrupted his chain of thoughts.
"What is it, Pilot?"
"When will we see Captain again?" he sadly asked.
"Uuuh..."
"I hope soon, because I really miss him. I wonder what he is doing right now... Do you believe he is thinking of me in this very moment?"
Snippy took a moment to think of a proper reply.
"Probably. But now that we're far from home, Captain will have a lot of time to spend with Engie."
Ouch. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that last thing. Pilot will be furious, he thought regretfully.
"Grah! Engie! That good-for-nothing slipper!" Pilot angrily snorted and threw his arms into the air.
There he goes... Snippy mumbled to himself with a sigh and rolled his eyes.
"I don't want the lazy bum to get all of Captain's precious attention! He doesn't deserve it!"
"Uh, don't worry about it. I, uhm... I'm fairly certain Captain still loves you more!" Snippy improvised.
They quietly stared at each other, none of them quite sure what to say next, until Snippy broke the awkward moment by picking up the rope again and starting to pull the sled from its place. For now the two were left alone with their thoughts and the calming sound of the snow crunching under Snippy's heavy steps, accompanied by occasional creaking of the old sled Pilot sat on.
Charles stared into the distance, his thoughts deeply focused on finding a road leading to his destination between dismal dead forests and black ponds. In his mind he lifted off the ground, surpassing the dead land ahead of them and finding his way back to the city they called home.
"Sniiiippeeeeyyyy!" Pilot squeaked like a little child.
Ugh... not this again! the sniper thought, sighing even louder than before.
"What is it, Pilot?"
"Do you think Captain misses me... as much as I miss him?"
Snippy tried not to groan in frustration about his annoying companion. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm himself down.
"I'm sure he does. After all you're his favorite minion," Snippy forced himself to speak nicely, trying hard to contain his anger.
"Stop lying..." Pilot mumbled and oddly managed to give him a mean look through his green aviator goggles. "We all know you're his favorite cabin boy. Captain talks about his Snippy-sniper all day and it's more than obvious he likes you more!"
Charles didn't know why he felt so abruptly surprised after hearing Pilot's point of view. By now he should have noticed how much attention Captain gave him every day compared to Pilot, even if obeying the Captain's commands usually brought him into dangerous situations or got him trapped inside a whale, in outer space, or on a damn mountain with nothing but deserted land all around them.
Despite his long-desired wish for getting away from the annoying commander, this was not the perfect, Captain-free life he had imagined in his lone day dreams on the roof tops. But now that he had reached this point, he sincerely felt regretful for holding onto this wish that had now assumed such a cold hue of reality. Deep down he imprecated the thought of never seeing Engie and Captain again, and he suddenly felt stricken by a wave of sorrow.
Ugh come on Charles, let's not get sentimental here. Focus on the task, he told himself, shaking his head.
As much as he despised the idea of starting a new life here, he had to start making plans. How would life for him and the childish man he was stuck with continue once they reached the foot of this mountain?
The longer he tried to suppress it, the stronger became the longing thought of being unable to ever return home to the other half of their crew again. As more good memories came up, it turned into a feeling of loss, and he was completely caught in its grip - a grip so restricting around his neck that he rose his hand to his scarf and loosened it. Captain... Gromov... Charles had to admit that he couldn't imagine a life without them anymore, and he didn't know how or if he would ever be able to come in terms with that.
Stop... he kept telling himself.
At this point these intense feelings had taken over the last bits of his rationality. He'd had enough and he seriously didn't want to spend any more thoughts on this despondent anticipation for now. With a frown hidden under his gas mask, he forced himself to move on, pulling the sled with Pilot on it over to the highest point of the road.
The train rattled over the rails as it made a turn at the foot of a mountain.
Engie lazily hung over the dashboard, every muscle in his body aching from Captain's previous dancing lesson.
The commanding officer, whom the engineer held responsible for his dismay, sat on a wooden chair in the corner of the cabin, head nodding in sync with the song he was still humming long after it had ended.
The exhausted engineer deeply craved for a hot bath and a soft bed – but he was certain that he would not get to see either of those things anytime in the near future.
The GPS tracker that was mounted on the dashboard in front of his eyes beeped steadily, and the map showed Engie that they were already pretty close to the gizmo that was emitting the signal. Apparently it was located somewhere way off the railway, probably far up on a mountain.
While Captain was playing with an old, broken gameboy, commanding some yellow rat in the screen to attack the purple rat, Engie went to take a look out of the small window. This place was beautiful. He remembered a day long ago when he drove out here to spend some time alone, away from people and his job.
The sun stood at a diagonal angle in the sky, casting long shadows over the fields, and in his mind he quickly calculated the time until nightfall.
Damn... we only have about two more hours... he thought to himself.
Abhorring the thought of still being out there after dark, he strongly hoped they would reach their destination soon and be done with their rescue mission before the sun would disappear behind the mountains and expose them to the dangers of the night.
"Make some space, Pilot," Snippy bluntly told the shorter man as he indicated to sit down on the sled, gently pushing him by the shoulders.
"Wait... Why do you get to sit in the front?" the other one grunted, but reluctantly skidded back on the sled.
"The front man gotta do most of the work," Snippy calmly explained and sat down.
"Are you calling me incompetent?!" Pilot started yelling.
"No, of course not! Sheesh... I will need you to help me steer in the back."
Pilot almost wanted to continue his protest, but in the end the latter statement got him to withhold. Once Snippy sat comfortably, he untangled the long, looped rope, lifted it up above his head and began to wrap it around himself so it wouldn't get in the way later.
"Are you ready?!" the sniper asked his co-pilot.
As a response he heard a faint growl behind him.
"Uh... what's wrong now?" he asked with a sigh. "Are you still mad at me?"
"Sshh," Pilot suddenly shushed him.
Snippy was confused and it took him a moment to realize what was going on.
He took a glance over his shoulder, and by the shack where they had found the sled, he spotted a big creature sniffing at the door knob and viewing the foot steps on the ground. It vaguely resembled the shape of a bear, only much larger, and with bald spots that were overgrown with nasty ulcers. Snippy felt nauseous looking at the creature for too long and had to suppress a gag, holding his breath.
Just in that moment the creature seemed to have found their trace and looked up, spotting the humans on their sled.
The monstrosity snarled at them, baring crooked teeth in a jaw strong enough to crunch bones, and began trotting into their direction.
"Shit...!" Snippy stammered.
"Go go go!" Pilot shouted and helped Snippy push the sled below their bums off the rise. The monster behind them snarled angrily, taking pursuit.
Soon after they shoved off, the sled continuously gained speed, which both of them were more than glad about - until the road made a sharp turn to the right an estimated fifteen meters ahead.
"Brake, Pilot! Braaaake!" Snippy commanded under the roaring snow, pressing his heels against the icy, white road with all he'd got to avoid sliding right off the side of the path.
In his mind the scene took place ahead of time, and it didn't end well for two of them... but the fear stemming from this thought helped him bring up enough strength to successfully make the turn. Back on a straight road again, Snippy sighed with relief.
Behind him Pilot was struggling with the aftermaths the heavy exertion had left on his injured leg. He seemed in pain and was doing a pretty one-sided job with the braking - but Snippy knew that he was not going to let loose now, giving as much as he was capable of in his state.
Suddenly their pursuer made itself noticed on the hill above the road with a snarl, and in the next moment it took a big leap, aiming directly for the sled. Pilot reacted faster than Snippy could perceive this immediate danger and quickly took action. Grabbing the sled tight and dashing away, he managed to get them out of the way, and that living abomination heavily landed on the road not far behind.
It seemed a bit battered from the fall, but the beast didn't let loose - and so the pursuit began anew. With big leaps it chased the men on the tiny sled down the road, steadily closing in on them.
"We need to go faster!" Pilot screamed into Snippy's ears.
"Owch! Stop yelling!" he ironically responded with the same volume.
But the next road turn was up ahead, and to the sniper's estimations, they were already going far too fast to make it through. He pushed himself to make a quick decision.
Being torn to shreds and eaten alive by a giant bear or flying off a forest cliff and having one's neck snapped by a tree? There has to be a third option. Don't be such a pessimist, Charles! the humble sniper kept telling himself.
"Go Snippy, faster! The bear wants to eat my leg!" Pilot cried in terror and kept pressing forward.
In that second the answer hit him. Why did he not think of this earlier? Despite its grotesque appearance, their pursuer was from an objective point of view just a wild animal living here, looking for food. Snippy also recalled that he still had a big can of food in his backpack, the one that Pilot previously refused to accept.
But he exceeded the time he was given to think, and he had to make a move. In that instant he pressed his heels into the road with such force that he thought his bones were going to snap in the process, but even with Pilot's help, the sled slid off the road. The two tumbled down the steep hill, rolling over a few bushes and small trees on the way down and came to halt at a giant rock.
"Oww..." Pilot moaned, his face buried under Snippy's backpack.
"Shit... Are you okay?" the other asked with deep concern.
"Y-yeah-s," his ally shakily answered. "But what about you?"
Snippy still sat on the sled, though it was turned upside down, and his feet pointed up towards the sky.
"I'm fine."
Pilot chuckled. Next he yelped as he saw what was making its way down to them.
"G-damn it... will this thing ever give up?" Snippy breathed.
"Argh... Get off me!" Pilot groaned and started pushing Snippy off him, but although they managed to get up, it was no use – This rocky ground wasn't made for sliding, and by foot they would be too slow to get away, not to mention Pilot's handicapped leg.
"Pilot... Listen closely now. I need you to open my backpack and hand me the can of food in it," Snippy spoke quickly.
"What? W-why would y-you want to eat in a moment like this?!" the other stuttered, perplexed about the strange inquiry.
"Just shut up and do it! Hurry!" the sniper scolded, fretting about the limited time.
No further questions asked, Snippy felt the weight of Pilot's hand pulling down the zipper of his backpack, before the can was pressed into his hand.
"What's your plan, shoe?!"
The bear was approaching them, its face a menacing grimace, then it stood up on its hind legs, and before he could stop him, Pilot threw a rock at it, hitting it right in the face.
"I'm here, you fat piece of organic garbage!" Pilot yelled. "Hurry up Snippy, I'm gonna distract it!"
That, Snippy knew, his friend would regret, now that the giant bear was clearly pissed off.
Charles felt its deep roar vibrating inside his chest, overwriting his thoughts with panic as he watched the monstrosity run straight at Pilot, who took off backwards. With shaky hands he tried to open the can, his stress levels shooting up.
It started swiping at the green-eyed man with its huge paws, knocking him off balance, and he fell to the ground.
This is it. We're both going to die a horrible death, and worst of all: I'm going to be the one to blame; Snippy thought. Good bye, you fucked up world.
But as soon as he had finished that thought, the lid in his hand snapped open – finally! Wasting no more time celebrating this achievement, he aimed and threw the can at the hungry beast, its delicious content gushing through the air.
To Snippy's surprise, his plan actually worked. The bear got off Pilot and started licking up the food from the snowy ground.
He hastily ran towards Pilot and helped him up.
"HA! Did you see that?" Charles cheered with joy and looked back with Pilot's arm over his neck, still hardly believing that they actually made it out of this alive.
"Where's my credit? I did all the works!" Pilot protested.
"You did great. Now let's get out of here before that thing comes back for some more meaty delights."
Back on the road again, they quickly retook their positions on the sled and started going.
"Hey Snippy watch out for the ice!" Pilot shouted as they were closing in on another curve.
"Bwah!" Charles yelped and braked with the last strength he had left, but the ground they were moving towards was covered with bare ice.
Once his feet started slipping away, Snippy was struck by the cold realization that his luck may have just ran out.
Smashing into a rock that was stuck in the ice caused the sled to start spinning out of control, and Pilot clutched the sniper's waist tightly, both screaming in fear for their lives as they slid off the ledge.
After turning over a few times, the sled caught its footing again and started gliding down a hill off-road.
Completely dizzy from the spinning, Snippy thought he caught glimpse of a black, moving object in the distance to his right, behind an alley of trees, though he wasn't sure. He looked more closely and saw it again, now more certain about it... but he didn't have much time to think as it was roaring closer with incredible speed. Then he felt a push from behind.
Did Pilot just jump off the sled? Was his last thought before he heard a terribly loud screeching. Disturbed by the sound, he suddenly noticed the rails in his way, but it was too late to react. He fell face first into the snow and felt a strong pull against his leg as the sled got stuck at the other side of the tracks he just fell over.
Then it dawned him that his leg was still on the rails, and in sheer terror he yelped, desperately crawling away and yanking at his right leg, which resulted in the sled's rope tightly constricting around his ankle.
Although his leg was in safety, the sled to which the rope was attached remained stuck, and as Snippy turned his head, he saw the jet black train approaching, drowning out his panicked yelps with its ear-splitting screeching, spraying sparks to both sides.
He was painfully yanked away by the leg as the train reached the sled, then he was dragged over the snow covered planks next to the tracks, flailing in panic to avoid ending up under the steel wheels. The train was slowing down, but to Snippy's horror, the rope that was still painfully constricting his ankle got entangled in one of the train's wheels and started reeling in. The distance between his ankle and the wheel became alarmingly shorter, and he stomped and flailed, screaming his lungs out in terror. Picturing how this would end, he imagined his leg being pulled through the wheel and his bones getting crunched between the machine parts.
He felt the sheer intensity of his heart pounding through his chest as his foot reached the wheel, but in that second the scene froze and everything turned silent. In surprise he gasped, hastily glancing around, his breaths coming out in shivers.
The man could hardly believe it: It appeared that the train had stopped moving, mere seconds before his predicted terrors could manifest.
Was this really happening, or was it just a dream and he was actually laying somewhere in the snow with half his body crushed beyond repair? Blood was slowly seeping through the crunched flesh of his imaginary self's leg.
Hastily he peered through between the wheels and saw the remains of the sled scattered under the train, its pieces scattered and stuck between its heavy body and the ground. Snippy did not dare look back at his leg in fear of waking from a state of shock and a gruesome truth revealing itself to him; so he pressed his eyes shut, curling up into a shivering ball of distress, and tried to shut this terrible thought out of his mind.
Engie stumbled out of the train, almost falling down face first as he tripped, but managed to catch himself beforehand. Behind him Captain gracefully emerged, widely spreading his arms with joy as if he'd try to welcome the mountains that surrounded them.
"Hello, beautiful hills!" he cheered.
The mountain did not respond.
While lacing his hood tighter, Gromov caught a glimpse of someone running towards the leader, with arms spread in a similar way, and on a second look he recognized Pilot, squeaking with glee as he tightly wrapped his arms around his Captain's chest. He began mumbling muffled words into his wool coat, and at some point it faintly sounded like longing crying, while the commander gently petted the back of his devoted minion's head. Up to now their great difference in height had never been so apparent to Engie, and he wondered in what height relation Snippy stood to them.
"Snippy...!" he sucked in a breath and hastily made his way across the front of the train to the other side, where he quickly spotted the distinctive black and white jacket of the sniper.
Engie ran to him and as he got closer, he noticed him lying face down the snow. The sniper's right leg was awkwardly constricted in ropes, and his laborious, shaky breaths got Engie worried.
"Hey buddy, are you alright...?" he quickly asked as he squat down beside him, but the man neither responded nor moved; so Engie grabbed the black and white sleeve and carefully flipped Snippy over.
He looked quite beat up. His face gear had more than just a bunch of scratches, his left gas mask filter had come off, and his clothes were covered in snow, blood and dirt.
"Come on, talk to me..." he begged, gently shaking him a few times, but his attempts remained fruitless.
Engie looked for a sign of injury, but it was hard to tell, as his friend remained unresponsive. He quickly diagnosed his current condition as a state of shock, though he was a bit lost on how to handle this.
He tried to remember any instructions on first aid from the guide he once read through in his coffee break at work, and recalled some basic things that were mentioned in it. One part mentioned that it was always important to check the patient for breathing, turn him to the side to ease respiration and to keep him warm until he fully comes to.
"Right... turn to the side. Now let's see what's next..." he mumbled as he went through the list in his head.
"IS HE DEAD?!" a loud voice boomed from behind him, giving him the scare of his life.
"What- NO!" Engie shakily shouted back, mostly unintentionally, and noticed Pilot leaning over his shoulder. "He's just kinda... passed out," he added, now a lot more quietly.
Next he wondered how he did not hear Pilot coming up that close to him. He must have been too distracted and caught in thoughts to notice.
"Where's Captain?" Engie asked, sighing in annoyance of this bothersome interruption.
"Took a walk in the snow and told me to go assist the nurse."
"...Right," Gromov mumbled absently, blocked out Pilot's distracting presence and proceeded to dive back into his thoughts.
Alright, where was I...
A piercing screech penetrated his ears as Pilot slowly scratched a tiny knife along the train's outer walls in attempt to draw something on it.
"G-DAMN IT PILOT, STOP!" he yelled, covering his head from the ear splitting sound that just wouldn't end, and his head felt like it's gonna explode.
Then, as it finally stopped and as he loosened his tensed up shoulders, he felt a weight on his thighs and a hand grabbing his coat.
"Sn-snippy...?!" Gromov asked in astonishment as he looked, laying his hand down on the sniper's trembling back.
The ear-splitting sound must have had some effect on him, the engineer assumed.
"Gromov... my leg... is it... is it...?" he uttered, his voice trembling.
"It is what...? Wait... are you crying?"
Engie tried to figure out what Snippy meant and looked at the man's legs. The rope was still constricting his right leg in a bunch of knots.
"Hey Pilot, would you lend me that knife of yours for a second?"
"No! I need it. Get your own knife, smelly rusty sock," he refused.
"Come on... I'll give it back in a second."
Pilot stared down on him with distrust in his stance as he slowly extended his arm towards him and... pulled back.
"I will only lend you my knife if you give me back my crayons when we're home!"
"What- oh, right, those. Gee, fine, whatever. Just hand me the knife already," Engie told him, holding back a sigh and gesturing him to hand it over; then Pilot finally did.
Gromov grabbed the part of the rope on Snippy's leg and cut it, freeing him from his painful constriction.
"Would you look at that... you're free at last," he commented with a smile, and silently gave the knife back to Pilot.
"My leg... it is... I... I can't..." Snippy continued to whimper, still trembling.
"What's with it? You still have sensation in it, right?" The engineer looked down at the sniper on his lap in confusion as he removed the last bits of the rope from the man's previously restricted leg.
Gently he ran his hand over it, doing a quick check. "Do you feel any pain? Does this hurt?"
Again, Snippy didn't cooperate, but he could tell by his not-flinching that it didn't hurt him when he pressed down on it. Upon pinching it with his fingers, he felt a short pull.
"I think your leg is fine. Just look at it, Snippy."
The sniper shifted from his position, and for a moment Engie made the mistake to believe that his comrade would be alright – but it all changed as he did what he was told and glanced at his leg.
"Noo... Nooooo... It... it isn't! IT ISN'T!" he cried, shaking his head and sobbing quietly.
"Why, Snippy? What's wrong? Look, everything is alright now! Sure, it was a close one, but the train has stopped in time, and your leg is unharmed."
"It-It's not! Ca-can't you see all the s-shredded flesh and gore?!" he frantically tried to reason with the engineer.
The message shocked Gromov. What Snippy said confused him, left him perplexed.
Calmly he reached for the ankle and began tugging it out from the boot. Then he did the same with the other leg, again revealing flawless, white skin with some minor bruises from the ropes on the right leg, but nothing major.
"Snippy there is... not a single scratch."
Snippy didn't pay attention to what he said. Instead he now stared up at something behind the engineer. Gromov turned around and changed from a squatting to a sitting position as he turned to face the tall figure that appeared to have been standing behind him for who-knows-how-long.
It was no one else than the Captain, holding his steaming mug in one, and a funnel in the other hand. Without a word he roughly pushed Engie aside and squat down in front of Snippy, who was now staring straight up into the sky for no explainable reason. With a swift motion Captain had planted the funnel in Snippy's mask and began pouring the hot steaming content of the mug inside. His body began to spasm viciously.
„W-what are you doing to him...?!" Engie frantically stuttered and tried to yank Captain's arm away, but the officer gave him a powerful thrust, knocking him into the snow.
Engie sat up in the snow, and the next thing he could observe was that Captain had elevated Snippy's head, descending his other hand onto his chest and mumbling unintelligible words to him. The mug stood nearby, its red heart facing the now still lying sniper.
Was he unconscious? Dead? It was hard for the engineer to tell. But then he perceived a movement, which excluded the latter possibility. Charles budged, contracting his legs and slowly sitting up, looking down at his legs and touching them as if it was the first time he ever saw them.
"How are you feeling, Mr. Snippy? Up again and ready for new adventures?" the commander inquired.
"You... my legs... how...?" Charles uttered in confusion and stared at the Captain, still dazed from whatever he was just dragged through.
"Apparently you had some really bad mental trauma that gave you hallucinations, man, and I don't know how, but Captain's tea made you all better," Engie commented as he crawled past Captain and sat against the train near Snippy.
"But... the train... It didn't roll over me?"
"Negative. Though it certainly was a close one. For a second I thought I couldn't stop the train fast enough, so glad Captain pulled the emergency brake just in time."
"Sniiiippeeeey! Look at my new pet!" Pilot yelled and stumbled forth from behind the train.
Everyone looked his way.
"Do you have more cans of food to spaaaare?"
Engie spotted the little marten on Pilot's head and felt unsettled when he realized it was glaring at him, baring its teeth.
"Oooh look at how cute it is! Come here little fella!" Captain walked up to Pilot and picked up the clearly vicious animal.
"Captain, tell me, can we keep it? Please?"
"Why, of course it can stay with us! We always have space for new recruits to our troop. I'm sure Engie still has some spare space in his bed for it to sleep at night. And Snippy can take care of the litter box. Right, my minions?"
Pilot jumped into the air, cheering with joy. Engie covered his face with both hands, whining. Snippy brought his hands to his face and shook his head frantically.
- THE END -
Thanks to eight_0f_hearts and Creep for being loyal proof-readers throughout this story. You're the best!
Also thanks to my readers for being patient with me even though I've kept you waiting for so long.