Date: Fri, 2 Nov 2001 12:44:33 -0600
From: Twisted Zero <TwistedZero@thevortex.com>
Subject: Engineer (Part 2)

"The Engineer"
by Twisted Zero

***************************************************************************
The Engineer (Part 2)

The train reached a distance of about five feet past the right side
crossing lights when a jagged, flashy band of light appeared in an arch
around the engine.  The train continued through, disappearing as it went,
but the band stayed in place, seemingly consuming the twenty-some cars that
followed the speeding engine.  Our car stopped dead and suddenly the entire
train was gone.  The lights quit flashing.  The bell went silent.  Tin and
I just sat there, listening to the quiet buzz that signaled that the car
had stalled.

Neither of us dared to move.  We were paralyzed with fear.  A train just
came out of nowhere, our car almost drove itself infront of said train, and
then said train vanished into an archway of white light.  This was odd.  We
just sat there, silently, staring straight ahead, for I don't know how
long.

"What just happened?" Tin asked calmly.  I took a moment to put my response
together, then slowly stated:

"I think...we almost got hit...by a ghost train."

After another pause, Tin nodded slowly and restarted the car.  Slowly, but
under Tin's total control, the car passed over the tracks and made it
safely to the other side.

"Home," I said quickly.

"Yeah," he agreed, and we were off in a flash.  Well, let me rephrase that;
The train was gone in a flash.  We left very fast.  Yeah, that sounds
better.

Once in town, Tin spoke, finally breaking the silence in the car.

"Nobody's gonna believe us," he said simply.

"I know," I said, "but we're gonna tell somebody anyway, aren't we?"

"You're damn right we are," he stated sternly.  We were on his block, but
passed his house and careened around the corner.  In five minutes we were
at Bluestreak's house.  I checked the clock on the car before Tin shut the
engine off.  It was only 1:36.  We nearly jumped out of the car and
sprinted to Bluestreak's porch.  We stopped for a moment and caught
ourselves before just barging in.

"Should we knock?"  asked Tin.

"It's be polite," I suggested.  With this in mind, we started banging on
the front door.  When the door remained shut after the fourth hit, Tin
started calling into the house.

"Streak!  Get your ass out here!" he yelled.

"Jason, open this door right now!" I bellowed while beating his door in.
After a few more seconds, the door was harshly jerked open and a very tired
looking Bluestreak in only boxers and sweat pants stood in the doorway.

"What could you bastards possibly want?" he asked without moving his lips.

"We've gotta talk to you," I said, wide-eyed.

"It's important," Tin finished, imposingly.  Bluestreak took a second, and
then sighed, backing away from the doorway.

"Fine, get your asses in here," he said, walking to and dropping down upon
the couch in his living room.  We followed, Tin sitting beside him and I on
the sofa at the right of and perpendicular to the couch.  "Now, what is
your problem?" he asked sleepily.

"Something just tried to kill us!" Tin blurted.  Streak woke up at that
comment.

"What?!" he asked in disbelief and surprise.

"Dude, I kid you not!" stated Tin, excitedly but serious.  "We were out
driving around, and then we stopped at a railroad crossing, but there
wasn't any train even though the signs said there oughtta be, and then
something started--like--pulling the car onto the tracks!  That's when the
train appeared outta, like, nothingness, and I threw the car into reverse
and I was all peelin' out and the train kept coming and just as the train
got in front of us and the car was, like, two feet from total decimation,
the car stalled out dead and the train disappeared into a tunnel of light
and the signs just quit, and it was weird as fuck and scarey as hell!"

Bluestreak sat there, mouth open, eyes cocked kinda funny, just staring at
Tin the Babbler.  I put a a hand on his shoulder and said, "O.K., good work
Tin, how 'bout I give it a try?"

"O.K.," said Tin, ignoring my sarcasm.

"Streak," I started, and he looked right at me.  "Everything that the Flash
just told you was exactly true.  What we at least believe to have been a
ghost train was, again we think, trying to run us over.  Sorta."

"A train," Bluestreak said at length, more trying to confirm it to himself
than ask us.

"A train," said Tin, nodding.  Streak closed his eyes and grimaced.

"What kind of train?" he asked.

"Trans-fuckin'-lucent, Jason!  We told you, this thing was some kinda
ghost, man!" yelled Tin.

"I mean, what was the make, Quentin, and if you don't calm the hell down
right now, you can get outta my house!" Bluestreak shot back, putting a
certain irritated emphasis on Tin's name.

"I'm not sure, myself," I said.  "It didn't look like anything I'd ever
seen...maybe some kind of steam engine, but definitely nothing modern, by
any means."

"Wow..." said Streak, rubbing his temples.  "You guys are aware of what
this sounds like?" he asked, making it sound more like a statement.

"Of course we are," said Tin.  "But we had to tell somebody."

"And you do know you can't say anything about this to anybody else, right?"
he asked.  Tin and I stopped for a second and looked at each other in
confusion, then back to him.

"Why not?" I asked.  Bluestreak looked at both of us like he was apalled at
our ignorance.

"Hel-LO, guys.  Last night?  Cute little couple on the railroad tracks, now
they're really on the railroad tracks, and nobody knows...."  He stopped
dead.  His eyes kinda glazed over, and then, just above a whisper, he
finished, "...why."

I didn't feel it happen, but when I turned my head to meet Tin's shocked
expression and noticed that his jaw had dropped, I became aware that mine
had, too.

"Oh...my...God," said Tin, looking down at the floor and holding his head
up with both hands.

"I can't believe we forgot about that," I said to nothing in particular.

"Dude, where'd you go?"  came a new voice.  We all three looked to the
entanceway and saw a rather tall, lanky sort of kid standing in grey sweats
and a dark green T-shirt, rubbing his eyes like he'd just gotten up.  When
he saw Tin and I in the room with Bluestreak, he stopped abruptly and his
voice was astonishly awakened, though his head still hung at an odd angle,
his hand frozen to his eye, the left one darting between the two of us.
"Hi, guys.  W'sup?" he asked.

"Hi, Floyd," said Tin, from beside the window.  "Sleep much?"

"Not when lunatics are screaming at and banging on the door," he answered.
"Speaking of which, why was that happening?"

"Sit down," I sighed, after a second's pause.  He sat down beside
Bluestreak and looked about the trio in the room.  "Well?" he asked.

"O.K., Bluestreak, you might believe us, but Floyd doesn't know us too
well, and not that I'm making any judgements here, but he just think we're
lying, and I can't deal with that right now.  Floyd, did you drive here?" I
asked, turning my attention straight to him.

"Uh...yeah?" he said cautiously, his eyes narrowing a bit.

"Got plenty gas?" I asked.

"Half a tank," he said, just the same, glancing once to Streak and then
back to me.

"Good," I started, but Tin cut me off.

"Fuck that!" he said sternly.  "I'm not going back there--"

"Hey!  Tin!  Do want anybody to believe us or not?" I asked loudly.  He was
about to protest again, but I started in.  "Look, we get over there, we
wait for it, we show these guys what happens, if anything even does happen.
However, instead of being in the car, we will all be sitting near the trees
at the side of the road, so nothing can happen."  Tin looked more
agreeable, though still not happy.  I looked at Floyd.  "Get dressed, we
gotta trip to take."

Floyd looked at me, then Tin, then Bluestreak, then back to me.

"Dude...this better be worth it."

In ten minutes, we'd gotten both Bluestreak and Floyd (which I know sounds
like an awful futuristic Dukes of Hazard kinda cop show that only UPN could
create.) dressed and everyone into Floyd's Celebrity.  Twenty minutes
later, we'd made the last turn onto the road that held the crossing at
which Tin and I had witnessed the "event".  After a few bends, the crossing
came into veiw.

"O.K., slow down," I said from behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Get up to about ten feet away from the tracks, then stop the car."

He did as he was told, and when the proper distance, he put the brake on
and upwardly slapped the gear shift into park.

"Here?" he said in a slightly tired voice.

"Absolutely," I said, staring straight ahead.  "O.K....  Everybody out."

"Wait--what?" asked Floyd.

"I said, get out of the car, Floyd.  So...get out of the car." I said.  At
this, Tin and I both had our doors open and by the time we were out, Floyd
was looking quizzically at Bluestreak, who just shrugged and followed suit.
Bluestreak had gotten about half as far as Tin and I when Floyd stood up
out of his car.  Suddenly, and without any warning at all, there was a
sinlge "ding" from one of the signal bells.  This caught Floyd's attention,
and he turned where he was and looked at the signal on our side of the
road, but nothing came of it.  He took about four steps away from his car,
turned and pushed the door shut.  Bluestreak had gotten to us by now, and
joined us sitting by the side of the road.  It was at this point that the
signals were activated, both bells and lights.  The bars wobbled a bit, as
if something were holding them, keeping them from lowering.

"Hey," called Floyd from beside his car, "You guys do have great timing."

"Floyd--get away from there!!" I yelled, standing up.  The train blew its
whistle from the distance and the wind picked up, blowing leaves and dust
in circles and swirls.

"I'm coming," he said, rolling his eyes and taking two more steps to get
around the car.  Unfortunately, he'd left his driver side window up.  I say
this was unfortunate, because had he left his window down, then when the
invisible force had spun him around, picked him up and shoved him
head-first into the driver seat, the glass wouldn't have been there for him
to have to break through.

Tin and Bluestreak jumped to their feet, all three of us simply stunned.

"Holy FUCK!!" shouted Bluestreak, running to assist Floyd.  "Come ON,
guys!" he shouted back to us, and we snapped back to reality, rushing to
meet them.  The whistle blew again, closer this time.

We got to the car, Bluestreak frantically asking Floyd if he was O.K., and
Floyd, only semi with it, was mumbling something in return about not
knowing.  The bars on the signals suddenly received a bright jolt of
electricity, and were blown off.

The wind was ferocious now, nothing at all like the circumstances of the
earlier encounter.  Streak had been trying helplessly to open the door, but
it wouldn't budge.

"Grab his ankle, grab his ankle," I directed, and we each pushed Floyd's
legs down under the steering column.  I reached in and grabbed one of his
hands and pulled him into a sitting position.  The car jerked.

"Oh shit, not this again!" yelled Tin, his hands running through his hair
as he stood behind us, un able to help for lack of room.

"Take an arm," I hollered, and Bluestreak yelled back that he had one.  The
car began to move forward as we had Floyd pulled halfway out of the car.
Tin ran in front of it and gave a loud "Oh, shit!" when he saw the beaming
pale blue light of the oncoming train, then ran at the car, slammed his
hands onto the hood and started to push, slowing the car's pace to half of
what it was.

"Come on Floyd, you gotta help us out, buddy!" I yelled, and he seemed to
wake up a bit. kicking his legs out from under the wheel.  As soon as he
had done this, the three of us fell back onto the road, and, seeing as we
were out of immediate danger, Tin let up off the car and bolted over to us,
quickly scurrying us off the road.

We looked up and saw that the car had been pulled up onto the tracks and
stopped, its lights matching the superfast pattern of the signals'.  The
train came, its noise louder than any other.  It looked like Tim Burton had
a bad dream about a steam engine; it was purple, black, silver and blue,
and warped and twisted like no train I'd ever seen, nor you, I'd imagine.
The weirdest thing about how it looked, though, was that you could just
barely see right through it.

It smashed right through the car, crumpling it like tin foil, ripping it in
half and sending shards of metal spinning and flipping as far as fifteen
feet around, although no explosion occurred.  About twenty feet past the
car, the train's emergency brake switched on and the train slid another
fifty feet before completely stopping.

We layed there in total shock, the four of us hudled together, yet strewn
upon the grass beside the road.  Slowly, the train backtracked until the
engine was a good fifteen feet behind the spot where it killed Floyd's car.
We all uncovered our heads enough to look up and see the train when it
hissed and came to a complete stop.  There wa a moment's pause and then a
voice boomed out over the area.  A deep voice, but not Freddy Krueger, or
James Earl Jones deep.  It was even more gravely and mad then deep, but it
was definitly scarey to everybody.

"O.K., that's it," it said, loud as the Fourth of July.  "I got one good
hit in, and then the next two were fuckin' blood-free!  In the same FUCKING
night!!  Well, no more givin' you bastards head starts; from now on, I see
somebody on the tracks and BAM!!!  They're dead...!"  The sounds of gears
moving and steam hissing were heard, and the voice added with a faint
chuckle, "Heh....See you kids later."

Then, starting at the light at the front of the engine, the train was
consumed in a bright bluish-white light, and vanished.  The four rose to
their feet not breaking from their stupified gaze toward where there
transparent train had been not one minute ago.

"What the fuck is goin' on here?" murmured Bluestreak.

"That is an extremely good question, Blue," I said, still kind of shaking.
"One that I think we better find an answer to."

"I'd like to go on record as being terrified beyond any limits that fear
has ever known," said Tin, from the back of the group.

"Oh...my...God," said Floyd.  The first two words were normal enough, but
"God" came out more like "Goo-awwwd", and it sounded like he was about to
throw up.  For the first time, I moved; I turned behind me to look at him.

"Dude...are you O.K.?" I asked.

"Yeah, man," said Bluestreak, "We oughtta get you to a hospital to get
checked out--"

"I don't need a goddamned hospital!" he yelled, shoving past me and walking
stiffly toward the wreckage on the tracks.  "My CAR...is what needs the
hospital!"  He got right beside what was left of what used to be the back
end of his car, held his hands out uselessly, and dropped to his knees.  "I
am so dead." he stated calmly, looking at the destruction before him.

"Hey, man....  You're lucky you got out in time," said Bluestreak, coming
up behind him.  He was about to put his hand on Floyd's shoulder, but Floyd
turned his head just enough so that he could barely see Streak's oncoming
hand.

"Don't even start in with that kinda bullshit, Jason." he snapped.
Bluestreak pulled his hand back, wincing a bit.  "At least if I was in the
car right now, or rather, spread out /with/ the car right now, you guys
could explain this.  But like this?  'Floyd, how did this happen?'  'Oh,
funny story dad, one of Jason's fucked up friends told us to leave the car
as bait for a psychopathic GHOST TRAIN'!!!"

His voice echoed, and his entire body was clenched, shaking.  A drip of
blood trickled down from his forehead and cheek and settled in the corner
of his mouth.  He relaxed completely and started laughing, almost too hard
to be deemed sane.

There was a slight breeze, a few leaves kicked about.  Bluestreak stepped
up behind and put a hand on his shoulder.  "Floyd," he started, his voice
weak.

"Leave me alone, Jason.  This is not a good time for me," he said with
angry sarcasm.  Bluestreak lifted his hand and stepped back, but called his
name again.

"Floyd," he said insistantly, taking a few more slow backward steps.  Floyd
spun around and stood up, glaring at Bluestreak.

"What?!" he yelled.  "What could you possibly do or say that could remedy
this situation?  Anything?!  I didn't think so!  Now you and your crazy
little fuckbrain friends can go tottle off to whatever other pain and
pandemonium you plan to cause this evening, and let me stay here and gaze
in shock at the omen that doth declare I have a short and bloody future
when I next see my father!!  You're pals are already trying to walk away as
it is!"

And with that, Floyd turned back to his wreckage, only when he sank down
and looked ahead of him, it was not mangled car parts that he saw, but a
pair of old, scuffed up brown boots.  This was new.  Slowly, he looked
upward.  He saw the ragged old jeans; the frumpled violet-pink, puce-like
colored button-up shirt; the purple bandana tied around the neck; the
gnarled, angry, half flesh-ridden face, with what skin was left being a
gray-purple color, and the tall, dark gray engineer's hat. Behind the
figure, the train sat motionless.  He was scared shitless.

"Who's your daddy now, scum fucker?" asked the Engineer.  He grabbed Floyd
by the collar and pulled him close, so that Floyd's nose was only inches
away from where the tip of the Engineer's nose would've been, had it not
been decayed already.  "You got a bloody future alright, boy!"  He began to
laugh and started to lift Floyd by the collar, but Bluestreak, in his
infinite wisdom, speared the Engineer in such a way that Edge himself would
be proud.  The Engineer doubled down, releasing Floyd, and falling right on
his back.

"Yes!!" I screamed, throwing a fist in the air.

"Get the fuck outta there!!!" screamed Tin.  We had, of course, made plenty
of space between us and the tracks.  Bluestreak hopped up from his tackle.

"Let's go!" he yelled.  But it was only now that Floyd's brain was clear
enough to allow him to scream, which was he started to do.  The Engineer
had already started to stand, when Blue grabbed Floyd by the arm and yelled
"Move it!".  Thankfully, it registered that time, and Floyd took off with
Bluestreak leading the way.  The Engineer stood up fully and watched us all
b-line it around the bend.  We could hear him laughing for at least a
quarter mile further, wether it was the echo or just him being that strong
winded.

Once we stopped hearing him, we all slowed down, weak and scared.  Floyd
fainted.  We were all sweating and out of breath, Bluestreak knealing in
the right lane of the road, Tin holding Floyd in a sitting position, and me
bringing up the end of the group, just beside the road.  We knew there was
no way we could run any more, especially if we had Floyd's dead weight to
take along.  Even trackboy Bluestreak was no good to run.

That's when we heard it.

****************************************************************************

Cliffhanger No. 2 already!  I just can't get enough!.  >:)   Hope you guys
are enjoyin' this.

				--Twisted Zero  (TwistedZero@thevortex.com)