Tales From The Temp Folder

[TZT] (RLT) Dont F---- With The Railroad

(9/22/22)
Alright! This is the first story writen and edited in Chico! Woo!
Alright, No seriously. This is officaly the first Chico post, no sodium hydroxide.
(Heh. Chemistry joke. What? No reaction?)
Alright, I'm done.

College is going fairly well. Not lately, but fairly well. Getting used to working on my own has kindof got me on edge, but I am building up a buffer where I can also maintain my mental health.
This week has been especially challenging, between getting kidnapped by the best friend and having due dates materialize underneath me, I'm struggling to keep up. Sorry about the dip in activity in general.
Welcome to college, 's all I'm say'n.

But the context to this story is a bit more. Powell has finally promoted Will back up from an unnamed stopping service to The Surfliner. Train 201, intercity commuter service between LA and San Francisco, traversing the entirety of the El Camino Real. Familiarizing Will with the territory before he moves onto running expresses.
However, this training run doesn't go as smoothly as Powell hoped.
After Will preformed a speech condemning Kieth and Co for its aggressive and shoddy business practices using taxpayer money, a misguided group had decided to make trouble on the line. The SHARED line that both R&S and Kieth & Co. use. Needless to say, collateral damage is inevitable.
This won't go down well.

Stay safe, stay healthy,
Take care,
-FishyFish831

We were following the road, passing CP North Salinas.
"Ease up here."
I looked over at Powell.
"Why?"
He motioned. "Your little speech about Kieth & Co really stirred some people up. I heard someone was going to try and delay trains to try and hurt their business."
I whistled for some kids waving on the bridge. They were going to try and throw stones, but I still greeted them regardless.
"Little traviesos." Powell cursed, ducking in as the rocks pounded off the cab roof. "One of these days, they're gonna break something, and then they'll be in trouble."
I chuckled, smiling over to him. But I followed his recommendation, slowing for the rival at Salinas. Easing "Tex" into his berth at the station. Whistling once to signal our stop.
"Alright. Dampers are closed. Water's good. Imma go grab some drinks, the usual?"
"Yep! You got it!" I leaned over to him.
"Alright." He chuckled, sliding down the ladder.
Conductor Carter walked up to meet us.
"Mr. Secretary! Engineer. We will stop here for three minutes!"
"Copy!" I shouted back to him.
I leaned back in my seat, listening to the gentle grumble of a peaceful engine.

"Alright. Mango dragonfruit Lemonade, trenta for you."
"Aww. thanks Powell." I sware, Ms. Perez got me addicted to that drink.
"No problem."
He settled back into his seat.
Not long after, I heard the shrill whistle of our conductor.
I leaned behind me to see him leaning out from the gangway, motioning with his arm.
<Right of way!>
I grabbed hold of the whistle cord, blowing twice. I kicked off the train brakes, then the independents. Listening to the shrill hiss as the brakes recharged, the hollow chuffing of the air compressor, and watching the needles shift back to 90 or 0. Once they were close enough, I opened the cylinder cocks and inched back on the throttle. The soft suction puff as steam took up in the cylinders, followed by two small jets of steam escaping either side of my engine. I gave Tex more steam, until the friction broke and we began to roll. Inching at a snail's pace at first, but once the slack took up, I gave him more steam. Promptly, we powered our way out of Salinas.
Our next stop: Gonzales.

Well, at least that was supposed to be our next scheduled stop.

Not long after we left Salinas, right as we were leaving the curve over the Alisal underpass, something came into view.
"Oh shit. Found your protesters Powell!"
"Shit!"
I threw the train into application, bailing off the independents to keep it stretched out.
"Fucker's blocking John!"
We were baring down on them at 53 miles per hour. But thankfully, we were packing a caboose that day, and only a six car doubledecker train today. The brakes reacted quickly, and we came to a screaming halt about 80 yards short of them.
I immediately got on with the dispatcher.
"Dispatcher dispatcher. Train 201. We are stopped north of Johns street crossing, fouling both tracks one and two. Protestors blocking the line."
There was only a moment's response.
"Train 201, say again. You said protestors blocking the line?"
I sighed. "Yes ma'am. Jessie, there is about 60 to 80 people blocking the main line."
I could hear the stunned silence in the dispatcher's office.
"Copy that train 201. Wait one."
"Wait one my ass." Powell came up behind me. "They're coming towards us."
I looked closer. Sure enough, they were beginning to march towards us.
"Hey Powell?" I tried looking closer at the track. Something about it seemed off. "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?"
Powell swapped out with me to look out the window. Where they dispersed a little, I managed to spot some shovels next to the rail, as well as a few grey piles.
"Fuckers." He promptly said, pushing past me.
He went for the weapons locker, grabbing his MP5.
"Powell! Hey!"
He passed me my Garand.
"They dug up the ballast. They're officially felons right now."
He charged his weapon, slinging it around him. He grabbed for the radio.
"Dispatcher, this is 201. I have positive sighting of the ballast pulled up, about 20 meters north of John street crossing. Track one is fouled, unknown of track two."
"Copy. I have local PD rolling on your location now. ETA, ten minutes."
"Ten minutes!" I exclaimed.
"Yeah. We're it for right now." He grimly looked back ahead.
The train phone rang. I answered.
"Engineer."
It was Carter.
"What's the holdup?"
I sighed. "I have protesters on the track and track one is fouled. Two is more than likely fouled as well."
Carter mumbled a curse. "I'll be heading up your way right now."
"Actualy, that's not wise sir. They're walking up to us."
There was a brief moment of silence on the other end.
"Threatening?" He asked.
I took a deep breath. "Not friendly."
Carter cursed again. "Are you two okay up there?"
As Powell was beginning to step down the ladder.
"Ill get back to you on that. We're gonna address them. Just get ready."
And with that, I hung up. Immediately jumping for the ladder after Powell.
"Powell! Hey!"
I wasnt able to get in front of him before the crowd stopped him, already shouting cursing, gesturing, and even throwing an empty plastic bottle at our cowcatcher.
"Excuse me!" Powell tried waving his hands. His MP5 still slung behind him. "Excuse me!"
But the crowd was not having it. They were still chanting about how Kieth and Company was bankrupting business, how the railroad was the devil, and that we should burn in hell for working for such a company.
Powell, still trying to be heard, drew back. Instead, climbing onto the pilot deck to gain some elevation over the crowd. A makeshift soap box.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"
The crowd quieted somewhat under his shout.
"My name is Powell Lake! Chief Engineer for the Rail And Spike Transportation Corperation!"
And then the crowd immediately started up again, practically drowning him out with shouting.
"THIS GROUPING IS UNLAWFUL, AND YOU MUST DISPURSE! THIS IS A LAWFUL ORDER! YOU MUST DISPUR-aww to hell with it."
He grabbed me, dragging me back up to the cab.
The crowd saw this, suddenly surging upon us!
"Shit! Get up!"
Powell flung me onto the ladder! Pushing me up into the cab, where I fell over onto my stomach. I reached around to drag Powell up as well, just in time before the crowd got to us.
We locked and bolted the gate. And just as I was recovering from that ordeal, a rock shattered through the driver's side window.
"Fuck!" I shouted. "WE AREN'T EVEN KIETH AND CO!"
"They dont know that!" Powell dragged me to my feet.
"What-" I gasped out. "What about the big fricken logo on the tender!" I gestured, flabbergasted.
"Not now," Powell pushed past me for the train phone. "We have bigger fish to fry. Hey Carter? Yeah... Good... Yeah, call him back. We're shoving off... Yeah... I know... through the crowd... Yeah... He's got it." Powell stared at me. "Bye." He clunked the phone down. He pointed at my seat. "Get in. We're going."
I blinked, shaking my head. "What? Through them?"
Powell shrugged. "If they dont get out of the way, its their business. They're criminals, let the cops deal with them. Right now we're," Powell checked his watch nonchalantly, "Twelve minutes behind schedule. So we need to get a move on regardless."
I stood, gobsmacked. "What about the people-" "Look"
Powell stopped me.
"We did what we could. We dont have the tools or the resources to deal with this. We did our part by not killing them. We have the justification to do that, and we didn't. We need to go. If you wont drive, then I will. We cant wait any longer. Not without endangering our crew or our passengers."
And with the rage of the crowd surging outside, practically beating our door down, I surrendered the train to Powell. At least until we exited Salinas.
I stood, frozen in guilty shame, as Powell blew two blasts of the whistle. He hit the bell, opened the cylinder cocks, and blew down the engine to try and get as many people off the engine as he could. Carter had already locked the doors to the front coaches, and was standing ready in case any of them tried to get onboard to pick a fight.
Powell gently manuvered the engine forward at a snail's pace. The weeshing of the engine overpowering the roar of the crowd. We inched our way forward, being pelted with stones, bottles, curses, and even someone fired a shot off. We all ducked, and Powell pulled back the cab window storm shutter to protect himself. I stood behind the window in the open section, prepared to engage whoever it was. Luckily, we never found out who it was.
A few of them tried to step in front of our engine, a few even climbed onto the pilot and running board, but all of them jumped off once they realized there was no stopping us. The crowd pulled back once we gained a little speed, and we passed by them at restricted speed. Still hurling stones and profanities.
They managed to drill out a chuckhole, which we rode over easy enough. But the damage was done, and the guilty condemned. By the time Carter called us on the phone to say we were clear, we could already see the red and blue lights raining down on them.
I sighed as Powell surrendered the train back to me. Now it was my turn to make up lost time.
Powell sighed the heaviest sigh I've ever witnessed. He leaned down to open the firebox doors, staring deeply into his dying fire. "Sometimes people learn the hard way not to fuck with the railroad."