Chapter 15
Author's Note: This one needed significant rewrites and new content. For my original readers, this story originally ended at Chapter 15, however with the rewrites I now expect this version will go to 18 chapters with an epilogue.
Billy and Schemee drove back towards Shining Time in a steely silence. Both knew the stakes were high but the fight continued, this time with more hope rallying them. Hope for the future and hope to rewrite the wrongs of the recent past. Mr. Conductor was riding along with them for the time being and he appeared to be deep in thought.
"So what exactly is controlling those people?" Billy asked, "Paul seems to have henchmen under his control but that's some serious magic. I don't think he holds the strings personally."
"You're right, it is very serious magic," Mr. Conductor explained solemnly, "Unfortunately it blindsided us. You see, we work with humans closely in many places, and we have our own kind of intelligence organization that operates between both worlds. The world where Conductors come from and this one. The magic originates from our world and we try to limit who knows about it. Most of the time it's just revealed to people like yourselves who've shown that they aren't going to be corrupted. Unfortunately there are those that covet it and would readily abuse it. We work together to prevent it but in this case the unthinkable happened. Someone is wielding it masterfully and we can't determine who or where they are. I agree with you that it's not Paul, but someone is using him as a cover which is just as, if not more, concerning."
"So Paul is doing all this for his own gain, but someone else is letting him believe he holds the power?" Schemee wondered aloud, "But why kidnap me specifically, and why did he take Stacy? It all doesn't make sense. Also we don't know exactly what happened to the missing townspeople, or where the police are."
"Well, I think we should try the police station first. Perhaps we can find some help," Billy suggested and drove the car towards the precinct.
As they approached the building he turned the lights off. "I'll go ahead and look out for any of Paul's goons," Mr. Conductor said before vanishing.
Billy slowly wheeled into the parking lot and they waited for his signal. He appeared a moment later.
"Uh, well, there's no threat here but there's some trouble," he said hesitantly.
"What's wrong?" Billy whispered, keeping a careful eye out.
"There's a few people in there, the police chief being one of them, but they're all asleep. Just like how Schemee was, I suspect it's magical and should be temporary. But I don't have the capacity to wake them all up."
"Drat, so we may be on our own," Billy said with a sigh. "Alright, let's go check on who's here and then move on. At least we'll know that they're safe."
Schemee and Billy carefully entered the station and turned the lights on. Sure enough Stacy's father was there, unconscious across his desk. As well as a few other officers and admin staff. But Schemee's eyes fell on someone in particular.
"Wait, he looks familiar… Allcott?" he muttered. Schemee moved closer but it wasn't Allcott. It was someone who looked just like him, albeit a bit scruffier and less polished.
Realization dawned. "This must be… my grandfather," he murmured incredulously, "But what is he doing here?" He had only heard about him and his existence recently, through Allcott rather than his uncle. He had mixed feelings; he knew there was conflict and bad blood in this side of the family, but still having been raised with limited contact to family he felt less alone knowing there were more of them out there.
"Uh Schemee, we have trouble," Billy said, breaking him out of his reverie and pointing up at the ceiling. Schemee looked up to see what had caught his eye. There were two black devices duct taped to the ceiling with several wires sticking out of them.
Schemee swore. "That's not good. We have to get these people out of here!"
Mr. Conductor looked up and then back to Mason. "I don't think we have time. But this looks like it's remotely detonated. We have to do something so I think instead I can wake up someone who might be able to help us, give me a second." He appeared in front of Mason and blew his whistle, gold dust rained down from the air over Mason and disappeared as it landed on him. He also did the same for the man Schemee knew to be his grandfather.
Both stirred before slowly lifting their heads in confusion. Schemee's grandfather noticed Mr. Conductor first.
"Oh, it's you. I suppose things are going poorly if you're finding us like this."
Mason did a double take as he took in the scene in front of him. "What on earth? Billy? What's going on? And what… who is this?" he asked with evident confusion.
"This is Mr. Conductor and we're here to rescue you. You were all put to sleep by Paul, and if this seems strange then every explanation that's going to come next will seem stranger so we're going to have to ask you to trust us. And also, we've got some trouble," Billy said, gesturing at the ceiling.
"Shit. Okay, well, we should evacuate everyone immediately." Mason tried to stand but collapsed. "Damn!"
"You're going to need to take some time, but unfortunately that's not a luxury that we have," Billy said regretfully, "We also need to find the rest of the missing townspeople, I fear they're in danger."
Mason picked up his phone and glumly placed it down. "Dead, they must've cut the wires."
"Wait, I think I can help. That is a fairly rudimentary device. I saw similar ones when I was in the army. We used to have to deactivate them, I can't get up there but perhaps I could direct someone on how to cut it," Jasper suggested.
"I would not usually condone this… But there's a ladder in the supply closet," Mason said, resigned.
Billy and Schemee exchanged looks and simultaneously said, "I'll do it."
"Your uncle made you promise to stay out of harm's way," Billy said wearily.
"And that's impossible now, isn't it? Besides now that we're already in danger, how about we both find a way to take one?" Schemee suggested, "It would save time!"
Billy sighed deeply, and thought about this proposition for a moment. "Okay, I'll get the ladder for you and I'll stand on a desk."
"So, is it true then? Your Uncle is alive?" Mason asked carefully.
"Sure is, he's off rescuing Stacy now," Schemee confirmed.
Mason looked pained. "None of you should be involved with this, it's far too dangerous. I wish… I just wish I had been able to do something more. Oh Stacy…" he looked away to hide the shame on his face.
"We're the only hope left, and we will succeed," Schemee said assuredly.
Jasper remained silent and Schemee exchanged a look with him, evaluating him. There was something unsaid between them, and Schemee knew he had something to do with his Uncle coming back, despite their seemingly shaky history. For that, at least, he was very grateful.
"Thanks-" he started but Jasper shook his head.
"Don't," Jasper said. It didn't come out harsh, although his tone conveyed a cold authority. Schemee may not have had all the details but he could immediately see the potential for conflict with his uncle.
Billy came back with the ladder.
"You ready?" he asked grimly.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Schemee confirmed, looking away from Jasper.
Mr. Conductor appeared on the passenger seat beside Schemer, startling him.
"Sorry, I know you're not used to me popping in yet," Mr. Conductor said apologetically.
He shook it off. "How did it go?" Schemer asked nervously.
"They managed to stop a bomb threat at the precinct, and now they're heading towards the station," he explained carefully.
Schemer winced. "So much for staying safe… So they have help now?"
"Well, yes and no. The precinct is safe but only Mason and your father are awake, just not quite able to move. Once they, and everyone else, wakes up and are properly able to assist they will be providing all the back-up they can."
"I'd prefer that you stay with them," Schemer said, sounding unsure.
"I know, and despite that I really think you need my help since I can't be everywhere and I feel that my magical reserves will hit their limit. You will need all the help you can get because I think what comes next will be more than one person can handle. And I think they'll be okay, things are starting to turn in our favour," Mr. Conductor said, even though his voice carried hints of doubt.
Schemer realized that this was likely the first time Schemee and his own father had met. The thought made him uncomfortable as he thought about how separate he had tried to keep both of those parts of his life. Would Schemee remain in contact with his grandfather, and by bridging the gap of distance, slicing open Schemer's old wounds? He didn't have the answer but he supposed this would have to be another thing that they'd have to work through.
With Mr. Conductor having departed to rejoin Schemer, Billy and Schemee were very much on their own. After leaving the precinct with Mason's assurance that they'd provide back up as soon as they could, they headed to the station, the next logical place to look for people. Billy and Schemee knew the station wouldn't be a friendly place, or one with a particularly easy rescue, but they weren't expecting it to be quite so hostile.
Things quickly went sideways upon arrival. They parked the car up the road and quietly trekked through the forested area surrounding the station. Hearts pounding in their chests, praying that they wouldn't be discovered. These wishes went unanswered; and as soon as they crept up to the station and peered through the window their presence was alerted. Heavy footfall came up behind them, and they barely had a chance to exchange panicked glances before breaking out into a run.
Nobody had been inside the station, it was totally devoid of life. However there were clearly sentries located around the area. Schemee and Billy were faster than the clunky, seemingly magically possessed guards Paul had on sentry duty around the station, but as Schemee hazarded a glance behind him he was unnerved by the dark, empty eyes that were trained on him. They rounded a corner sharply, Billy grabbed Schemee and dragged him into an engine, shutting and locking the door behind him. He wasted no time in starting up the engine and let it roll down the rails.
"Where are we going?" Schemee asked in a hushed voice.
"Well, if no one is here, maybe we can run and seek help before it's too late. I don't think Paul bet on anyone being able to engineer a train but between us covering the rails and the roads, either us or your uncle should be able to find help. I can drive this engine to the next station and we can call someone."
This was a good idea in theory, until they hit their second snag.
"Billy look out!" Schemee cried out in alarm. Fortunately Billy had needed no warning and had thrown on the emergency brakes as soon as he saw the obstacle on the rails ahead of them. Schemee lurched forward, having little warning to brace himself. Once they came to a complete stop Billy helped him to his feet again.
"What the devil?" Billy murmured. Their engine was now stopped behind a passenger car, seemingly one of several on the tracks ahead.
Schemee frowned. "Paul," he stated grimly.
They exited the engine, looking around carefully. When no threat was detected they began to walk around the cars. There were four of them lined up behind another engine. One of the cars had an open door. They exchanged a silent look before quietly boarding, but what they found caused the air to be forced from their lungs.
Many of the townspeople who had been at the memorial were there and placed into seats, but they were seemingly unconscious. Ginny and Midge, Barton Winslow and Felix Perez, Dan and his parents, their friends, their neighbours. So many recognizable faces and carefully positioned as if they were just taking a train ride.
"This isn't good," Billy said somberly. Schemee agreed, feeling a chill crawl up his spine.
"Maybe we could start waking them up and helping them offboard," Schemee suggested.
"There's too many of them, and we need to get them to safety. I think we should take a look around and see if the engine is driveable. I don't know what Paul has planned but it can't be good news," Billy said, carefully looking around. "If you want to stay here and try and wake them I'll go ahead. If you hear any signs of a struggle, run."
Schemee exhaled deeply. "I…. Okay, I suppose. But I'm not leaving you behind. I will get help."
Billy straightened up and began his walk through the cars.
Meanwhile, on the other end of the Indian Valley, a different train continued to speed along the tracks. They hadn't been on the run for a terribly long time but Paul was beginning to get anxious. He hadn't spotted any other trains but that didn't mean that they had avoided unwanted attention. It wouldn't be too long before someone spotted them. For all he knew, they already had. He left the radio off so he didn't know if anyone had tried contacting him. If anyone reported them as a possible runaway or stolen train, the police would be getting involved soon. He had a plan, but he needed to move fast.
Stacy stirred from her spot in the corner of the engine. Paul looked over to her, eyes drawn to the bruise on her face. He preferred to be less physical, he didn't enjoy doing the dirty work himself. It was far too pedestrian. She looked up at him, seemingly blurry eyed as she blinked several times. She was still bound and weakly pulled her arms apart against the bindings that held her wrists together.
"Where am I?" she croaked, her voice hoarse.
"You're coming with me for a very important job," he said simply, turning back to the controls as she hung her head to her chest.
Stacy Jones always prided herself for being strong willed, stubborn even. She never let anyone walk all over her and didn't ever consider herself vulnerable. She never wanted to be the damsel in distress, that wasn't for her. But as she watched Paul drive the train like a madman she couldn't help but feel like she was doomed.
As Paul fervently drove the train, she could tell that he had long ago exceeded the safe speed and was recklessly barreling down the tracks. He looked like a rabid dog, cornered and ready to fight his way out. Desperation had truly become madness.
"Paul, please!" she pleaded, "You need to stop this train, this isn't safe."
He didn't answer, he was still urging the train onwards.
"Please, just stop!" Tears were streaming down her face. Yet again Paul ignored her.
"Why are you doing this?" she cried out.
He rolled his eyes and turned to face her, but he did slow the speed of the engine. He wouldn't admit it out loud but his minimal experience and practice with trains didn't extend to safe driving. This was a one-way trip after all. "Why?" he asked, sounding unimpressed, "I thought I already explained it to you."
She quaked with fear. His answer hadn't made sense to her. Not then, not now. "I don't understand," she croaked.
"Quit playing dumb Ms. Jones," he snapped, "But no matter, I suppose you'll just have to wait. You will cooperate, one way or the other.
"No… I want to know why you did all this to begin with. Why did you target Shining Time Station? Or Schemer?"
"I highly doubt you'll believe me Ms. Jones, but I did it because of you," he said coolly.
The engine's occupants fell completely silent. Stacy was blown away and too stunned to say anything. For what felt like a century she just stared at him, completely bewildered. Finally she found the ability to use her vocal cords again. "But how?" Was all she could manage.
"I think you know the saying, 'there's just something about that place'," he said with a cold smirk, "I heard about this station and the station mistress. One who, in particular, was well known and loved across the Indian Valley, with a heart of gold apparently. So I decided to see it for myself. I moved quickly through the ranks in the Indian Valley Railroad, things looked promising and I was sure to become Mr. King's right hand man. I had kept an eye on the Indian Valley Railroad and learned what I could about Shining Time. There really is something special about that place, and it was something I could exploit and control. It's magic, all mine for the taking but only if I could win you over. But when I finally met you at that staff party that's when I noticed something very interesting."
"What's that?" she asked, unable to hide her horrified curiosity.
"You were there with someone, and while I knew about Schemer and his past escapades I had entirely written him off as a nobody. But he was an open book, so simple, so easy to manipulate. I saw an interesting opportunity to change the course. I am not working alone, and, most strangely, my business partner had an interest in Schemer. But I saw a way to further my goals and complete my transaction at the same time. I knew that neither of you would last, and I did what I could to destabilize the relationship faster. Trust me Ms. Jones, I did you a favour when I extended, shall we say, a bit of magical influence to force you to sleep through that alarm."
Horror, then fury, washed over her face. "No. No! You're repulsive and absolutely vile. How dare you violate our privacy like that. He was wonderful! You are NOTHING like him!" She shouted fiercely, blood rushing through her ears.
"He wasn't fit to clean the floor I walked on!" Paul snarled. "Honestly, how could someone like him think he deserved to rise above his station? He was arrogant, lazy and self-centered. And, the worst part of all, is that manipulating him and using him to get to you, to the station's magic, didn't even work! He was as useless in death as he was in life," he shouted, taking his anger out on her because his plan had fallen apart so quickly.
"He left the station for me! He knew how much it meant to me, he thought I cared more about the station than him. He was wrong, so, so wrong! But he still did it for me. And then there's you. You tried to use me to advance yourself. You act like I'm going to help you but I promise you I will NEVER help you as long as I live. I'm sickened and heart broken but I'd rather eat dirt than help you accomplish anything!" she shouted angrily, tears pouring down her face.
His jaw was clenched and there was a tick in his cheek. "You better watch your tongue Jones. You're going to help me whether you like it or not. I'm getting away, and you'll be with me every step of the way... As my hostage and accomplice."
Billy slowly crept through the cars, taking note of whoever he saw. Many of the townspeople from the memorial were seated, fast asleep. There was no sign of movement inside or outside, which both comforted and unnerved him. It was far too quiet for his liking, but at the same time there was no sign of those magically possessed men Paul seemed to be using, which was certainly a good thing.
As he got to the front of the last car he exhaled deeply. Mr. King was at the very front, laid out on the floor as if haphazardly thrown there. Despite the recent bad blood with Mr. King Billy still felt like he was just another victim of Paul's behind-the-scenes manipulation. He crouched down and watched to make sure he was breathing, and was satisfied when he saw the rise and fall of his chest.
"J.B.," he whispered, shaking his shoulder.
Mr. King started to stir with a groan but didn't quite come to consciousness. His face looked like it was bruised, as if he was handled roughly.
Billy frowned and stood back up again. Getting all these people out unnoticed would surely be impossible. If Paul had the ability to ensure all of them were unconscious and transported into the cars then who knew what else he was capable of. Billy and Schemee being conscious and aware was the only upperhand they had and losing it would be devastating.
He decided to walk back to Schemee for the time being so that they could strategize. However, to his utmost horror, he realized they were not alone in being awake, and worse, the car had begun to move.
A few of the people had begun to stir and as he studied their faces they were not townspeople he knew. They appeared to be people planted by Paul because as their eyes slowly fluttered open he could see the inky blackness behind their lids.
Not daring to stay behind and wait for them to fully come to consciousness, he raced to the back of the train. Schemee was still waiting for him, looking worried and impatient, when Billy rushed in.
"We have to go, it's not safe!" he exclaimed, grabbing Schemee's arm.
Schemee looked around wide-eyed. The people in this car appeared to be only people not possessed by this dark magic. However, something must've spooked him because horror washed over his face.
"Billy, look out!" he cried out in alarm, mirroring Billy and grasping at his arm.
Billy looked behind him to see a smokey black tendril seeping under the door and heading towards them.
He looked at Schemee. They weren't any safer here as they would be anywhere else, and the car was picking up speed. If one of them could attempt to escape then at least when Mason and his force were fully able and on the way then they might just collectively stand a chance. But as long as they were together they were one target. And he had made a promise to a friend.
Without a second look he led Schemee to the door and threw it open. It would be a bit bumpy but they were still going slow enough to make it. "I'm sorry Schemee," he grunted, before pushing him lightly.
"Billy!" Schemee shouted as he stumbled out the door, which was the last thing Billy heard before darkness fell over his senses like a shadowy veil.
Schemee ran. He ran like he had never run before. He didn't know where he was running, or to whom, but he knew that Billy had not followed him off the train and that the intention had been for him to move in the opposite direction of that train as fast as possible.
His eyes pricked with tears, not just from the cold but from the sacrifice of his friend. He vowed to do what he could to save him, all of them. If he could just find a way to contact someone, anyone, this nightmare might finally have an end. He knew that they had come in on the track via the engine driven by Billy, and he didn't dare to follow it directly because they had no doubt been followed on the way out. He instead stuck to a ditch that ran along the farthest edge of the railway property. It gave him a vantage of the rails as well as a way of ducking for cover, meagre though it was.
By the time he made it back to the actual train yard he was wheezing and trying to not cough in the cold air, desperately not wanting to alert anyone or anything of his presence. The station was nearby, it was the closest place to look for a phone. Maybe its wires were cut, like at the precinct, but he had to try. He had to do something .
So he set out towards the station, determined. Billy's selfless bravery had given him this chance and he wasn't going to waste it.
Billy felt his mind go blank. It was a soothing, calming feeling, as if all the stress from the last several weeks was melting away. He scarcely remembered what he had been doing moments ago or where he was.
Darkness clouded his vision and he felt inexplicably drawn to the front of the carriage. But when he got there something within his mind told him to stop.
(What am I doing?)
The thoughts interrupted his actions and he paused, suddenly conflicted. It felt like something was rising up within him, threatening to disrupt his newfound peace. He shook it, the voice, off and carried on through each carriage until he faced the door to the engine and looked down at the prone man on the ground.
(No!) The voice barked.
This one he couldn't be certain as to if it originated internally or externally, as his eyes fell upon a struggle now unfolding around him.
The man (Mr. King was it? Yes.) was awake and struggling against the outreached hands of several others. They were working with Billy, he could tell. And yet something pushed against the walls of his mind.
(This isn't right, I have to take control!)
Control? Of what? No, he had a job to do. He opened the door to the engine, prepared to step onto the platform and help assist the man into the engine room.
"Mr. Twofeathers? Billy!" Mr. King cried pitifully, once again breaking his concentration.
It was when Mr. King recoiled visibly as he turned his gaze on him that the voice found stronger footing.
(STOP!)
He felt as if a veil was lifted over his eyes, momentarily, before snapping down. He backed away, dazed by the disruption.
(No, this isn't me. I have… to… fight)
The mental anguish flooded his senses until he was unable to listen to the overwhelming urge to cross into the engine. There were two warring voices in his mind, one telling him to go and the other telling him to stay and fight.
(Enough. Enough!) "ENOUGH!" he roared. And the darkness that clouded his mind was forcefully removed, leaving only the terror of what had happened, and what he had almost become.
As he collected his senses he realized the people that he had thought were on his side, were once again just the magically possessed people someone had been controlling. And seemingly they were also aware he was no longer 'with' them, however, they seemed confused as to who to go after now.
Billy was tired, but most of all he was angry. Angry at the violation of his mind. Angry at running and living in fear. He wasn't going to run anymore, now was the time to fight back.
He knew, having just gone through it himself, that these people were not acting of their own volition. They were innocent victims as well. But they were also currently threats and he had to act fast. Grabbing the closest person he realized that they were unarmed, so he did the only reasonable thing he could think of without harming them and forced them into a supply closet near the end of the car, locking the door behind them. That took the remaining individuals off guard, but they quickly left Mr. King alone and came after him once again.
He was quickly swarmed by five bodies, and while he was bigger and stronger than all of them individually he buckled under their combined might. To his distress he realized they were trying to force him to the exit and that the train had been steadily picking up speed.
A sixth person joined the fray, but this time it was to Billy's assistance. Mr. King grappled with two of them and attempted to pull them off Billy.
"Go! Get to the controls, one of them is driving and I don't know what they have planned! It's not good though, whatever it is!"
Billy didn't like the idea of leaving him alone but managed to shake off the people clinging to him. They were now grasping at Mr. King and Billy realized it was truly a standstill. If he left him alone Mr. King would surely be tossed out the train and they'd come for him anyway. But the two of them together would also surely get tired and be overpowered eventually.
Then, the tables turned in their favour. Townspeople, Midge, Ginny, Felix, and others, all began to pour into that very car. They were similarly furious and seemingly rising up.
"We settled down the ones in the back cars!" Ginny called over the din, "Hogtied a few of them up, they won't be able to hurt us anymore!"
Billy could've picked her up and spun her around with gratitude but she was already tackling one of the errant people and pinning them down.
Mr. King pulled himself loose and grasped Billy's arm. A thin stream of blood trickled down his forehead, making Billy aware of his own injuries.
"We're the only ones who can properly drive this train. Let's end this, here and now!"
Billy nodded in agreement and they made their way to the engine together.
The battle between the townspeople and the magically possessed people raged behind them while they were once again faced with their own problems. As they entered the engine room, the "engineer" turned to face them. It was another magically possessed person and they were very much armed.
He levelled a gun between the two of them, abandoning the controls. The train was speeding beyond safe levels and Billy could see in the distance that there was something up the tracks. They didn't have much time before the collision.
Schemee managed to dodge being sighted by anyone around the station and crumpled behind Stacy's desk, overcome by exhaustion and emotion. He wanted his uncle, he wanted to be comforted again. The soaring elation that he had felt not so long ago was evaporating quickly and he curled his knees into his chest. He stuffed his knuckles against his mouth to stifle the sobs that were threatening to give him away.
But no, he had to be brave. He had to get up and finish the job he was tasked with. He clawed at the desk and pulled himself up shakily. Picking up the phone, he extended a finger to dial the emergency number. But before he could even touch the number nine the line connected with a click.
His heart went cold and he held his breath, unable to speak and not wanting to give himself away.
"No need to be afraid my boy, I know who you are," a deep, rich voice said in a way that he supposed was intended to be reassuring.
Schemee still didn't respond, trying to place where he had heard it before. It sounded very familiar.
"Listen, I want to tell you that nobody means you any harm whatsoever," the voice continued, "But I really need your cooperation, okay?"
"Who are you?" Schemee asked in a hushed voice, not at all convinced about the truthfulness behind the statement.
The voice chuckled, but it was devoid of humour and sent a shiver down Schemee's spine. "That's not important, but what is important is that you listen carefully to me."
"Okay then, what is it? I'm all ears if this nightmare will end," Schemee said, forcing his voice to steady and wondering if keeping him on the phone bought more time for help to arrive.
"You're going to open the door and let my associates in. And then you're going to willingly go with them. I know they look frightening but they are well under my control and I can promise your safety, unlike that imbecile Paul."
That's when Schemee placed the voice. It belonged to the mysterious person Paul was talking to in his office that one day Schemee was spying on him. The one who was actually behind the dark magic activity. He wanted to vomit, this was worse than he thought.
"And if I refuse?" he asked, voice trembling.
There was no immediate answer but there was a sudden pounding at the front doors that caused him to yelp. He had the foresight to lock them when he let himself in, but he didn't know for how long they could be kept outside.
The voice chuckled once again. "Then they will take you more forcefully. Look, son, I know I said you'd be safe, and you will be in either situation, but please just do this the easy way. It will be better on you, better on me, and then we can put this all behind us. What do you say?"
Schemee saw red. There was no putting anything behind them.
"What do you say?" the voice asked again, sounding slightly impatient now.
"I say how about you don't call me son!" Schemee barked in response before slamming the phone onto its receiver.
After only a few seconds the pounding continued in earnest and Schemee knew they would stop at nothing to break in. He glanced around, looking for some way to protect himself. Spotting Stacy's baseball bat he grabbed it and held it in front of him menacingly. Glass shattered and he braced himself, but then something caught his eye. Paul's office seemed to shimmer slightly, as if gold dust was falling through the air.
That eyesore was a poison to the station, nothing but bad things had happened here since it was put up.
Wait.
Nothing but bad things had happened since it was put up!
It was crazy, and the station was on the verge of being overrun, but he made his decision. With all his might he swung at the office wall, leaving a sizable hole in it. The front doors were banging in their frames, only moments away from giving out, but he swung again. This time the office door popped open and he went inside, swinging the bat in all directions, destroying anything in sight.
The station doors swung open simultaneously, careening into the walls with a bang but Schemee didn't care. He brought the bat down over head and onto Paul's desk and as it splintered something happened.
A shockwave seemed to ripple through the station, throwing back the intruders but leaving Schemee standing there, bat in hand.
And then, it was silent.
It was a very sudden and almost imperceptible change but Billy saw the change in the engineer's eyes. The inky blackness faded and was replaced by confusion. Billy didn't hesitate though and, worried about the gun pointed at them, quickly ran up and pulled the man out of the chair and kicked the gun away.
He seemed too stunned to move, and Billy sympathized despite having just been threatened by him. "Mr. King, the controls!" he shouted.
Billy knew there wasn't time to warn anyone and hoped everyone would be okay. Mr. King threw on the brakes and as he felt the lurch he braced as best he could. The scream of the brakes filled their ears and, after what felt like an eternity, they came to a stop.
When Billy finally brought himself to look outside he felt his heart sink as he realized they had only just stopped short of the obstacle on the tracks, and that it was an old, rusty freight car with many, many wires rigged around it.
And yet, for the first time in a long time, he felt like he could breathe. He gently nudged a stunned Mr. King out of the way and took over the controls, putting the train into a gentle reverse.