Changes in the Wind - Part III: Gordon and the Extinct Ones

Chapter I: Sodor

Fog shrouded Tidmouth, its station, harbour and sheds, where a small group of engines gathered together.

"I never knew my siblings well," began James slowly, "but I knew a few when I was built at Horwich Works."

The engines all listened in to the red engine, as he stared at his buffers, processing what to say next. "I remember one of my sisters, her name was Jill," he continued, a slight chuckle in his voice, "they loved naming us with the word starting with J as you can all tell."

"What was she like?" asked Henry.

"I lovely engine," he said, "always getting in trouble, shunting trucks in the wrong places, but on purpose and a good reason to. When a bigger goods engine was ever rude to us or the smaller engines, she would shunt their trucks in the wrong places so they would be late. She would sometimes be caught out, but she was well respected when I left."

Toby smiled kindly. "When was the last time you saw her?" he asked carefully.

"...1913," James admitted, "we didn't really have a proper goodbye, but Jill did say good luck and don't be a show-off and help others... I always thought I would reunite with her one day, find each other at a station or yard... maybe even share the same shed if we ever relocated again... but that will never be true."

James pursed his lips and his brow crinkled with eyes squinting and looking away. "I heard she was finally scrapped last week," he said, his voice almost breaking.

Silence went across the shed, none of them really knew what to say. Toby then sighed deeply. "It's hard," he said carefully, "when all my brothers and sisters were scrapped, I didn't know what to do. I was in a region that took care of me and others whilst they were all together in the scrapyards and that was before Haywield Drug was developed... I could only imagine what it was like for them. But I had you all, and that's why we're here, our old friends and family are on the mainland and we know that some won't survive the terrible things there. But we must help each other through these dark times."

"I never had siblings," came a voice. All the engines looked over to see Percy in the corner, looking thoughtful about what to say next. "I was a contractor engine and I never really had any siblings to listen to for advice, or at least give them some of my own... but I have you all. You are the ones I look for advice when I first came here. We all argue I will admit that... but that's what makes us... family."

A pause came between the engines as they all glanced at each other, Percy blushed and looked down at his buffers. "Sorry," he said, "that sounded better in my smokebox."

"No," interjected Duck, "you're right. We do argue occasionally and quarrel a lot, but we're all together for a reason, to help each other. That's the meaning of a true family."

"Aye," said Donald, who was sitting close by with his twin next to him, "Dougie and I have not been here as long as yae all, but we still care aboot yae as much as oor other siblings."

The engines all murmured in agreement. All eyes turned to the last engine in the shed, which was furthest away from them, looking down at his buffers. He then glanced up back at them, his brow furrowing. "What is it?" he said darkly.

"You've barely said anything throughout this entire meetup," Duck said, "you must have something to say about your family in the other regions."

Gordon huffed with an agitated sneer on his face. "What is there to talk about," he said, "half of them are withdrawn and replaced by diesels... diesels like BoCo."

"BoCo?" quizzed Henry, "but he's done nothing wrong."

"Then explain why us steam engines are being replaced?"

Henry opened his mouth to speak, to deny the big engine's claims, but no words could come out and so he closed it in defeat. Neither the other engines said anything, James and the twins could only looked at each other with agreeing thoughts. "Gordon," said Toby, "you can't just blame something that is out of BoCo's control... or any diesel!"

"I blame that blasted Gabriel," said Gordon, "the one who attacked Thomas, he hasn't even returned and when Edward left, he just... abandoned us! Left to our own devices."

"He's looking out for other engines," Percy scowled, "just like Thomas. You know what he did when he was first there! What he did has allowed steam engines to--"

"I know you little green caterpillar!"

The sheds went silent. No one said a word, Percy looked down at his buffers glumly. The others then looked back at Gordon with angered looks. The big engine sighed and puffed away. "I need time alone," he muttered and disappeared into the fog.

"Disgraceful prat," Henry said crossly.

"He's in grief," Toby replied, "we all have different ways of going through grief, Gordon just needs time... he'll come around again."

Gordon continued puffing along until he reached the yards, they were just as silent as the sheds, with a few workmen walking around and trucks scattered across the tracks. The big engine stopped in the middle of the yards, his angered face faltered breathly into something sorrowful and guilt-ridden. But he blinked a couple of time to recompose himself. His cross look returned but it was hard to do that after a while. He took a deep breath and sighed deeply, and looked sadly at his buffers, what would his siblings say to him with the way he treated the engines, especially Percy?

It doesn't matter now, most of them are gone.

***

The fog came as thick as it did to Sodor when it reached London, but the place was, even more, colder than it was on Sodor.

In the cold, dark sidings, a big engine sat, the same size as Gordon, and the same shape. He looked carefully around the area, it was harder to see with the stupid fog blocking most things far away, but he need to be thorough.

He stopped looking around when he heard puffing come from the distance and he looked ahead and a few seconds, three tank engines came scampering up to him. "Odd place to see you here Papyrus," said one of the tank engines.

"These are odd times," sniffed Papyrus, he looked at the other two engines with a more sincere look, "were you followed?"

"No," the second tank engine responded, "we made sure of that, I promise."

"Good," said Papyrus, "so why do you want me here anyway?"

The tank engines looked at each other, then scanned the area one more time and then looked back at Papyrus. "We need you to take the goods train tonight," proclaimed the tank engines.

Papyrus paused, his lips parted and then gave them a look. "Are you sure?" he asked, "it could be a dangerous run at night."

"We need to get-- I mean, we need you to take it," said the third tank engine pleadingly, "you're the only one to take it... please."

Papyrus sighed and looked away, he knew what they were talking about, none of the diesels did though, they weren't smart enough to figure out that steam engines can create codes of asking for assistance on escaping their location to get to Thesang, a safe place for steam engines. Papyrus was one of the only steam engines left in London that could get steam engines safely out, he was a record holder after all, so control saw him as something to consider preservation at the very least. This makes him special in many ways, in one he could easily exploit it into getting others out of London without being figured out. He had managed to successfully get any engine out so far, he was hoping to keep it that way, but it was getting more and more dangerous every time.

But he couldn't leave these engines to wait in agony until they were killed by the scrapper's torch. The Doncaster Pacific looked back at the engines. "Very well," he said, "I'll be there at twelve O'clock."

The tank engines looked pleased and relieved. "Thank you Papyrus," said one, as they all began to leave, "we owe you." Papyrus smiled kindly as he watched them disappear into the fog.

Once he was sure they were gone, Papyrus' smile faded and he sighed deeply, this run was going to be a dangerous one, he could feel it in his cylinders. But he must get them out, Papyrus wasn't going to fail.