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Ashes!

Written by Litchfield

Revised by Broa Island

Proofread by the S:TTS Team

Isle of Sodor: 1899

Before the rise of the North-Western, the Island of Sodor was home to three independent standard gauge railways. One of which was the Wellsworth & Suddery, which ran along the Brendam Peninsula on the island's south coast.

The line was run by three tank engines: Colin, Lily and Adam. Adam was the biggest, and the most boastful. He pulled the top-link express, which is full of important people from the humble businessmen to the wealthy aristocrats. Adam was very proud of his express, although there was one thing he could do without.

At every station and inside every carriage, big, colourful warning signs bear a blunt message: "NO SMOKING ON RAILWAY PROPERTY!" A minority of the passengers, and a very vocal one at that, detested this rule and often made complaints to the Thin Director.

I'm sorry to say that his passengers' frustrations had rubbed off on young Adam.

"It's not fair on the passengers!" he complained to Colin one afternoon. "We engines need to let off steam once and a while to keep our boiler pressure down. Perhaps people are the same. They should be unwinding after a long day at work, why are we depriving them of that right? Tell me that!"

"It's a fire-hazard," replied Colin. "A smoking cigar left unattended could lead to disaster, especially on a fast train such as your express."

"It would never come to that," Adam scoffed. "That's what ashtrays are for, to keep cigarettes off the ground. The passengers could bring their own if we'd let them."

"You give your passengers too much credit, Adam. Not everyone is as careful as you might think." He paused, impressively. "There's you for starters," he added cheekily.

"Pah!" said Adam, and he puffed away.

One of Adam's passengers finally had enough on the smoking ban. He was a wealthy, disagreeable man by the name of Lord Louis Fenchurch, though everyone just called him "Black Throat". He had successfully sued the railway to get the ban lifted, and the Thin Director had no choice but to comply with his demands.

New coaches were soon introduced, and were soon nicknamed "Smokers". They had additional ventilation which allowed the smoke of cigars to flow quickly and safely out of the compartments and into the open air, though the stench of ash stuck hard. Adam didn't mind the smell. As long as his passengers were happy, then he was happy.

One morning, Adam pulled out of Wellsworth Station with the express, and began making his way along the Peninsula. The passengers inside the Smokers were enjoying themselves immensely, while those in the adjacent carriages could only pinch their noses in a futile attempt to block out the smell.

Adam, however, was in a practically good mood today. The sky was a clear blue, he had a good grip on the rails, and the coaches gilded almost weightlessly behind. "This is the life!" he sang.

Adam was enjoying himself so much, that he failed to notice the yellow distant signal.

As they approached Suddery, Adam whistled in horror! "Brakes, Driver!"

His Driver and Fireman responded in haste! The brakes came on, luggage went flying out of their racks, food and drinks flew into the air, and the passengers held on for dear life! Adam slid to a stop, his buffers mere inches from Lily's Brake Van.

Lily had been waiting at a red signal with a goods train. "Adam!" she cried. "Are you alright!"

"We're fine back here!" called Adam. "Oh, rotten Signalmen! Must have dozed off again…"

Lily wasn't entirely convinced.

I took a while to sort out the mess, and Adam was determined to make up for lost time. "Come On! Come On! We must keep to time, We Must!" he barked to the coaches, violently jerking the heavy train into motion.

Too violently I might add…

Inside the Smokers, an ashtray, already disturbed by the initial stop, jumped off a table as they started off again. With a clang, it fell to the floor, its contents spilling all over the carpet. The lingering stench of smoke suddenly grew stronger!

"FIRE!" a woman screamed.

A small flame, no larger than a birthday candle, but growing bigger by the moment, had began where the tray had landed. One of the passengers acted quickly. He stood up, tore off his woolly jacket and tried fanning out the flames. The fire retaliated in kind, jumping onto the coat and licking at his fingertips. The man howled in pain, blindly tossing his burning jacket onto the upholstery!

The emergency brakes came on, and Adam was forced to a stop once more. "What now?!" he demanded.

"Good Lord!" cried the Driver, looking back along the train. "Look at that!"

Thin black smoke billowed from the ventilation and windows of the middle carriage. Adam hadn't even come to a complete stop before Driver, Fireman and Guard were already jogging along the train to evacuate the passengers.

The doors flew open! The smoke grew thicker! "EVERYONE OUT!" shouted the Guard. "SINGLE-FILE! LEAVE ANY BELONGINGS!" One by one, the passenger clambered out of the burning coach where Adam's crew 'shooed' them to a safe distance.

"We needed to remove this coach before the fire spreads to the rest of the train!" said the Driver.

"Leave that to me!" called Adam. "I've got an idea!" His crew were skeptical, but there was no time to discuss a better plan!

The Guard did a headcount. "Everyone is accounted for!" he cried before running back to his van. "NOW!"

Adam surged backwards with all his might. He then braked hard. The Smoker's couplings, weakened by roaring flame, snapped! The latter half of his train rolled out of the fire's grasp, the Guard braking them to a stop.

Adam then pulled the lead coaches to safety! They were just in time!

"Fifteen Minutes…" the Thin Director muttered sadly. He stared at the smoldering pile of ashes where a railway carriage had once stood. "It only took fifteen minutes for one of our carriages to be reduced to… this."

"I'm sorry, Sir," said Adam, not knowing what else to say. The big tank engine soon realized he must've struck a chord, as the Thin Director was now glaring at him and his crew.

"I hope you are!" he boomed. "While your quick thinking and judgment has undoubtedly saved your passengers' lives, I will not let that undermine the fact it was YOUR recklessness that got them into danger in the first place! If you'd been more aware of your surroundings, and weren't treating your coaches like maracas, we might've avoided today's mishap!"

Adam looked down at his buffers, ashamed.

"This won't stand!" cried a voice. Everyone turned to see the man with the woolly coat storming up to the Thin Director, his hands wrapped in bandages. He looked rather ridiculous. "I don't know how you Sudrians run things, but I won't be riding on your trains anymore! I barely got out of that death-trap alive! I demand compensation!"

"And you shall receive it," replied the Thin Director. "Though, if I'm not mistaken, that 'death-trap' was your idea, Lord Fenchurch."

The passengers gasped as it all became clear as crystal. They all slowly turned towards the aristocrat. The Thin Director chuckled softly, leaving "Black Throat" to face the wrath of the mob alone.

While Lily took over the express, Adam was put on goods work until the Thin Director could trust him again. The Smoking ban was quickly reinstated, and the Smokers withdrawn and replaced. Adam and Colin could be seen admiring the new passenger stock when they arrived.

"One day, little Colin," smiled Adam, "I shall take these lovely things out for a run. Such splendid stock can only be appreciated if traveling behind an equally splendid engine."

"Aye," agreed Colin, sarcastically. "These coaches are made from the finest material this side of Europe! Talbot steel, Welsh fabrics and… My word," he mused, moving to get a closer look. "Is that Ash-Wood?!"

Adam's face went pale.

"You're right, Adam," the cheeky tank engine chucked, "you are the only engine who can pull these!" and he ran off, laughing, leaving Adam at a loss for words.