A Truly HiT Era of Sodor

"Gone, but not Forgotten", 1979

Spring had arrived early on the Island of Sodor. The snow and ice had melted away and the birds were chirping merrily. All the engines were excited, but none the more so was Donald.

"Dilly outta be back any day now," he thought.

His driver had gotten a fresh bag of bird food and bread ready for the day Dilly returned. However, one day turned to two, two to three, three to four and so on and so forth. Donald was growing more and more worried each passing day.

"She should've been back by now."

"Don't worry old boy. I'm sure she's fine. Perhaps the cold season isn't over just yet." assured the driver.

Several more days went by and there were no signs of Donald's duck. The crew tried keeping the Caledonian at bay, but he was growing restless.

"I just don't understand Edward." Donald began. "She's always come back. I don't know what's keeping her this time."

"You haven't put it together?" Edward said solemnly.

"Put what together?"

"That maybe Dilly is...gone?"

Donald's eyes widened as the thought spiraled through his mind.

"N-No, that cannie be true!"

"Well, let's think about it. It's currently 1979, Dilly hatched in 1967 and her breed's lifespan is about five to ten years at most-"

"JUST SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW ME DUCK LIKE I DO! SHE'LL BE BACK JUST YE WAIT!"

Edward just sighed and looked back towards Donald surprised to see him on the verge of tears.

"S-She's okay..."

Edward stared at his friend for several seconds before cracking a slight smile. "Yes Donald. She's alright."

Donald didn't say anything as he pulled out of Edward's Station. He felt that enough had been said. The bright sunny sky had fallen by the time Donald reached the other end of the line with his goods train. Only the nearby lampposts lit the decrepit goods yard. A chill went through Donald's boiler as the sound of an engine was heard. Soon a diesel from the other railway backed down next to the Scot.

"Hurry up and take me train." Donald exclaimed. "I've had a rough day and I'd like to get some sleep."

The diesel scoffed. "You useless kettles think you're so invincible. You wouldn't last a day on the mainland."

"Agh I could pull your weight on the other railway any day. You diesels donnie care for your trains-"

"We only moan for a fitter. I already know about that little ramble your number eight had. 199 never shut up about it."

"Oh, I remember him. Nasty sort he was. Much preferred his wee pal Bear."

"Bear? Oh, do you mean 7101? He was just a softy, but he could at least accept the future. Unlike 199, or 'Spamcam' as you called him."

"Why do ye keep referring to 199 in the past tense?"

"He was scrapped two years ago with most of his class. Poor thing tried to make a run to Sodor, but he was caught and taken to that scrapyard not too far from here."

Donald was speechless. 199, and most diesels he met, had preached their kind and called steam engines out of date, but now...they were suffering like his kind were. All due to be sent to the cutters torch like so many engines deemed useless before them.

"He tried to escape here?" Donald muttered.

"Yeah. He said that if there was a chance for any of us to survive in this world, it was Sodor. Unfortunately, after that case with the western engine, BR increased security around its engines. 199 didn't stand a chance...Lookie here steamer, get this through your smoke box. Nothing lasts forever. One day we'll all cease up and stop working."