Disclaimer: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters are the property of this author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

''Human speech''

~Train speech~

Thought

Chapter 1

Thomas really hated Thursdays. It wasn't the day itself that upset him, or even what he had to do on Thursdays, but what he knew was going to happen at the end of this cold November day as he made his way back to the engine sheds at Tidmouth. It was the same thing every week and it was really upsetting him. Everything would be just fine if I didn't have to stop and wait at this blasted signal, thought the little engine. It's all the fault of those new timetables that Sir Topham Hatt introduced at the beginning of the month.

Thomas had tried many times to run fast enough to get there before the signal changed to red so that he didn't have to wait, but he'd always failed. It was as though everyone and everything were conspiring together to make him late or hinder him in all sorts of ways, and he hated it. It was safety this, wait for that, and so many other little things that piled up one on top of another to ruin an otherwise happy day. Not that he didn't want the railways to be a safe place to work in, no. He was as careful as he could be, after all, having a branch line of his own to run meant that he was an important and really useful engine, and he did the best he could to please Sir Topham and to show him that he could carry his passengers safely all the time. It was just that, on Thursdays, after he'd dropped off his two coaches, Annie and Clarabel, at Knapford Station, he'd always had to wait at this particular signal for that particular engine to pass by before he could retire for the night, and he really, really hated it, knowing full well what was going to happen to him, but his unhappy thoughts were brought to a halt as he heard a familiar, cheerful toot-toot behind him.

Unlike Thomas, Percy was feeling quite happy and very pleased with himself. He'd just had a lovely day touring around the island and the best part of it all was when, after dropping his coach off at Elsbridge Station and returning through Knapford, Sir Topham had complimented him on a job well done and told him that if the Sodor Society for Scenic Snapshots wanted to organise another excursion trip around the island, then he, Percy, would be the engine he'd call upon to pull the coach. It was because of those thoughts that Percy was smiling the biggest smile ever as he toot-tooted cheerfully to his friend, Thomas, as he pulled up behind him at the signal post for the engine sheds.

~Hello, Thomas,~ he greeted, wanting to share his cheerful mood with his friend. ~How are you this happy day?~

~There's nothing happy about today, Percy,~ grumbled Thomas, ~and YOU won't be so cheerful either in a few moments, either.~

~Why ever not?~ asked Percy.

~Because HE is due to pass by any time soon.~

The smile vanished off Percy's face to be replaced by a look of horror.

~You don't mea-~ he started, only for the rest of his words to be drowned out by the squeal of brakes and hissing of air-valves as another engine pulled up alongside him on the other track, its headlamps illuminating the rear and right-hand side of his friend waiting in front of him, Thomas.

~Well, well, well,~intoned a deep and oily voice. ~Look who we have by here, then!~

~W-w-what d-d-do y-y-you want?~ asked Percy, nervously letting some steam escape from his vents.

~Well, as I haven't seen you for such a long while, Percy, my little green puffball, I just want to say goodnight to you in my very own special way,~ sneered the new arrival, ~or rather my good friend, Pinchy, wants to say goodnight to you,~ the voice continued.

Then, the sound of a diesel engine revving up and the whirring motor of a mechanical arm filled the night air as Diesel 10's jagged bucket scoop swung over from its resting place on his roof and re-positioned itself above Percy, who then started to tremble with fear, thinking that he was about to be crushed by the big green bully.

~Have a nice cold shower to wash away the day's dust, with my compliments,~ laughed Diesel 10, as he opened his bucket scoop just enough to let a small deluge of horrible, wet and slimy sludge that he'd scooped up from a river bed earlier that evening pour onto the poor, frightened, little green engine.

~Aaaaahhhhuuuurrrggghhhh!~ wailed Percy. ~What did you do that for?~

~It would be very rude of me to ignore YOU, Thomas,~ said Diesel 10, ignoring Percy and slowly advancing along the track until he was alongside the little blue engine. After he'd stopped for a second time, he opened his scoop again and poured the remainder of the river mud all over Thomas, who let out just as loud a wail as his friend, Percy.

Diesel 10 had to be at the engine sheds in Tidmouth on Thursday nights ready to be ready to load the weekly consignment of Sodor Coal that was sent every Friday morning to Sunshine Time Station for Lady, the magical engine, as part of his punishment for his treachery against her several years ago, and he hated having to do it.

Lady was the special little engine that kept the magic of the railroads together, and it was the trail of gold dust she left behind her as she travelled that helped to create 'Sparkle', the magical essence that, amongst its special qualities, allowed travel between the Island of Sodor and Shining Time Station where she worked with her engineer, Burnett Stone.

Diesel 10 was always looking for a way to pay back the little steam engines on Sodor for all the trouble they'd been causing him over the years, and one of his many schemes had almost worked when he'd been mere inches away of getting rid of that infernal nuisance, Mr. Conductor, the manager of Shining Time Station, for good! If it hadn't been for Thomas helping Lady to lure him over a weak bridge that then collapsed under the heavy diesel's weight, he'd have finally done away with the magical engine. Diesel 10 had fallen into a pile of stinking rubbish on the refuse barge, ruining his great plan, and after they'd pulled him out of the rubbish when the barge eventually reached the mainland, it had taken over two years for him to be repaired before he could return back to Sodor, only to be given one of the fiercest rows he'd ever had from Sir Topham Hatt before he was allowed to stay on Sodor.

~Urgh! You rotter!~ shouted Thomas, shivering as the cold mud slid down the sides of his boiler and water tanks and into every little corner of his bodywork. ~I'm fed up of this, you big bully! You've done this too many times now, and I'm going to tell Sir Topham about you when I see him in the morning.~

~Oh no you won't, you little pipsqueak~ said Diesel 10. Not if you don't want to have a nasty 'accident' one day, you won't.~ The big diesel merrily laughed, opening and closing his mechanical claw with a resounding clang of metal to emphasise his point.

~I'm sick of hearing you little steamies going on and on about how useful you all are and how shiny your bloody paint is. Look at me and the other diesels on the island. Unlike you lot, WE don't complain when we get a speck of dust on us or a drop of water that's fallen off the roof of the station; WE know how to get on with the job no matter how muddy or dirty the work is. That's what you call really useful! WE'RE not pampered and cosseted like somebody's toy train set. I don't know why Sir Topham keeps you all here anyway. We can do ALL the work you lot can do, so mark my words, you two little puffballs, the day that we see the last steam engine on this island may be here sooner than you think,~and with another couple of loud clangs from Pinchy, the large diesel slowly made his way past the signal towards the turntable that would divert him to the coal pile behind the engine sheds.

The shock of his treatment from Diesel 10 had ruined Percy's happy day, and he started to cry.

~W-w-why does he hate us s-s-steamies so much?~ sobbed Percy, his voice quivering with the coldness of his sudden 'shower'.

~I don't know,~ replied Thomas, disgusted with the way the two of them had just been treated. ~He's been doing that to me every Thursday night for the past few weeks, and I've had enough! I don't care anymore about his threats, I'm telling Sir Topham about him in the morning. He'll protect us from that big bully, you'll see.~

~B-b-but, Thomas, I'm afraid of him. C-c-can't we just wait? I m-mean, he may get bored with it and stop bullying us. I don't want to go around all day worrying about going round a bend and coming face to face with him somewhere. I'm really scared!~

~Do you WANT to be scared every day, Percy?~

~No, I don't, but I don't know what else we can do. If you report him, he might get us before Sir Topham can do anything about it, and then it'll be too late for us.~

~We've got to do something about him, Percy. Look, we'll give him a week to change his ways and if he doesn't, well, then we'll report him, okay?~

~Okay, Thomas, you seem to know what's best. We'll give him a week to mend his ways.~

By the time they'd finished talking, the signal light had changed to green so that they could move on, and so they made their way over the points and on towards the turntable, stopping first at the engine wash to try and get all that muddy sludge off their bodywork.

ooo

Meanwhile, in a distant land far, far away, another little steam engine was having problems of her own, though her problems were of a much more serious nature.

~I'm losing steam again, Burnett,~ cried Lady. ~I need more coal!~

"This is very strange," said Burnett. "You've been low on steam all week and I can't figure out what's wrong with you. It's the same coal you've been burning since Thomas brought that very first wagon over from Sodor. I'll get in touch with Sir Topham Hatt in the morning and ask him about it. Maybe it's a different vein they've dug it out from. We've got just about enough left to make it back to Muffle Mountain before you run out, I think. A good service should get rid of this problem for you."

~I hope so,~ said Lady, worriedly. ~I'm not feeling so good right now. My firebox seems like it's all choked up or someth-OOH!~

"Lady! What's wrong?" cried Burnett.

~Burnett! I ca-I can't g-~

Suddenly, a cloud of thick, black smoke erupted out of Lady's chimney stack, covering both her and Burnett with an oily grime, and Burnett unwittingly breathed some of it in and started to cough quite painfully, and his eyes started watering as well. Then, Lady cried out, ~I'm losing more steam! My fire's gone cool and I'm slowing down! Quickly Burnett, I need more coal!~

Through suddenly tearful eyes that stung as though there was sand beneath his eyelids, Burnett struggled to shovel more coal into Lady's firebox. Blinking rapidly to try and clear his vision, he tried to read her water and pressure gauges, but his eyes were still stinging and he struggled to see the gauges clearly enough. The last thing he wanted right now was for her fire to be too low or to go out. Too low a pressure in her boiler and what steam there was would be wasted. Not only that, he'd have to use even more coal to get her pressure back up again, and putting too much coal in at once would mean that it would take that much longer again for it to burn hot enough to generate the steam she needed to build her pressure back up, and by the look of things, he had to get her back to the safety of her cave in Muffle Mountain as quickly as possible. Carefully, he adjusted Lady's regulator and water injector to maintain her boiler pressure, adding more coal as necessary and re-adjusting the valve settings, drawing on his many years of experience on the railroads, praying that he could do it right, all but blinded and coughing with every other breath he took as he was right then.

"Don't try to speak, Lady," he said to his dear friend. "I'll get you home, don't you worry."

Very, very slowly, things seemed to be going right for the two of them as the fire grew hotter, but then, Lady cried out again.

~Burnett,~ she moaned. ~It's got worse. M-m-my m-m-magic is failing!~

Burnett looked out the side of Lady's cab and back down to the ground beside the track. Even through his tear-full and stinging eyes he could see that the usual trail of gold shavings that Lady left behind her had turned to a trail of black dust and slag, and that the black smoke that was pouring out from Lady's stack was doing the most strangest thing. Instead of dispersing up into the air, it just hung there in a long, dark line above the track, and not only that, but it was expanding out like a long balloon being filled with air. After rubbing his eyes clear them, he could see thin tendrils of the black smoke reaching out from the main cloud, reaching out and expanding as they snaking their way down to the ground and slithered off into the distance away from the magical engine. A feeling of dread chilled his bones and he turned back to the control levers to work some of his own engineering magic, knowing that he had to get Lady back to her cave at all costs!

ooo

Meanwhile, back on the Island of Sodor, and in his office at Knapford Station, Sir Topham Hatt, affectionately known to the more cheekier engines as The Fat Controller due to his rather rotund physique, was feeling moderately pleased with the way things were going. Another day had gone by without any major problems, well, except for the coupling that had snapped between two of the flatbed wagons loaded with timber that James was pulling up Gordon's Hill. The red engine had had to reverse for almost two miles until he could catch up with the runaway wagons before the guard could attach the spare chains that he kept with him in the guardsvan, but despite that little problem, a couple of things had helped to clear away any bad feelings about the lost time and risk of accident caused by the troublesome trucks.

The schools being on their summer holidays meant that many families were using the trains to visit relatives and to go to all the holiday camps on the island, as well as the special excursion trip that Percy had taken around Sodor. It had been received very enthusiastically by the passengers, and there was likely to be more work of that sort in the near future, according to what the young man in the tourist office had told Sir Topham. He pondered over the possibility of buying another engine just to help Percy, but decided that he'd wait until the extra work came in first before making any final decision on the matter.

Over the last two years, the global recession had hit his railway rather hard. On average, fewer people were using his services as they found it cheaper to travel about the island and to the mainland by car instead of train. On the other hand, mused Sir Topham, the freight side of the business is picking up due to those new Council developments in the major towns around Sodor, and any extra work generated these days is a blessing. He frowned, thinking of the cheap tenders he'd had to give to the council in order to get those contracts.

It was a fight these days between the railway and road haulage firms to get new work, as the two industries both had their advantages and disadvantages. The lorries could go more or less anywhere to pick up and deliver their goods, but one train could take many times more tonnage than what a single lorry could carry. To boost the extra revenue he was getting with the new freight orders, he wondered if laying on more of the sight-seeing trips would be an answer to his financial woes. Sighing, he glanced across to the clock on the wall next to his office door. Hmm. Half past nine. I don't want to worry about these things right now. It's time to go home for supper, and put my feet up with a good book and some wine before bed.

Getting up from his desk, he put on his hat and coat, deciding that he'll deal with it all tomorrow. He flicked off the light switch on his way out, throwing his office into darkness, and stepped into the main traffic office, locking his own door behind him. He cast his eyes around the traffic office to make sure that all was right for when Debra, the ticket-seller and secretary, came in at half-six the following morning, and after switching of yet another light, he stepped out onto the station platform. After locking the outer door, Sir Topham looked up and down the platform to ensure that all was in order there as well. The overhead security and platform lights were all lit, all the doors were shut and locked, and the two old coaches, Annie and Clarabel, were standing ready beside the platform for Thomas' early morning service to Ffarquhar. Yes, he thought, all looks well.

He made his way along to the side of the main office building to where his car was parked, humming one of the tunes he'd heard earlier that day on the local radio station that Debra liked to listen to as she worked. Seeing the two coaches, Sir Topham recalled that Thomas had been acting strangely just lately, with some rather extreme mood swings. He'd be fine all week, and then as the weekend drew nearer, he'd get quite grumpy and start complaining about anything he could think of. I'd better book him in for a service, thought Sir Topham. He may be developing a fault somewhere, and it wouldn't do at all if he had a major breakdown and I had to take one of the other engines off an important job.

Glad that one of his many problems had been given a solution, Sir Topham climbed into his car, settled down comfortably, and started the engine. Now feeling more cheerful, he was ready for the journey home to Hatt Hall and a hearty supper.

ooo

We've made it, Burnett thought to himself, and a feeling of great relief filled his heart. And not a moment to soon. Lady was still belching out thick clouds of black that was now beginning to fill up the inside of her cave, and as he started to dampen down her fire, he decided he'd leave the cave's entrance doors open during the night to clear out the foul smoke.

It had been a struggle for him to see anything as it was, what with the smoke and his stinging eyes, so he pulled his scarf up over his mouth and nose in an attempt to stop breathing in the smoke, which helped a little bit, but his eyes were now red and very, very sore. He was trying not to rub them too much but they just wouldn't stop watering and obscuring his vision. He considered himself and Lady as being very fortunate indeed that they'd managed to get back to the cave without having an accident of some sort or bumping into something on the track. Lady had barely spoken at all during the journey to the mountain and he was now really worried about her. The only thing he could do right now was to stay with her and do whatever he could to help her. He'd failed her in the past when that...that scourge of a diesel had almost killed her, and he wasn't going to let anything like that happen to her ever again, no matter what the cause.

"How do you feel, Lady?" he asked her, his voice muffled slightly by the scarf.

~I feel so-so bad,~ her trembling voice quietly replied. ~I-I'm so d-d-disorientated. Everything is spinning round and round and I-I can't see anymore. I-I think I've gone blind. What's -wrong with me, Burnett?~

"I don't know, my love. I just don't kn-"

Suddenly, a loud WHOOSH took Burnett by surprise as, despite Lady's fire being almost out, more of the foul, black smoke started to pour out of her stack and steam valves.

"This shouldn't be happening," he cried out. "Your fire's too low for smoke like this!"

~MY MAGIC!~ screamed Lady. ~IT'S FAILING!~

"LADY!"

~Burnett!~ Lady cried out weakly. ~Listen carefully! You've got to g-go back to the b-b-beginning. It's the only thing you can d-d-do!~

"Lady? What do you mean?"

~Got to...got to start it all again!~

"What are you trying to say, Lady? I've got to start your fire up again?"

~No! Not that! Start it all again. Before... before they all return...~

"Return? Who's going to return, Lady?"

~No, Burnett. You d-d-don't understand. They'll return t-t-to where they came from!~

"Lady, I don't understand what you're telling me!"

~The engines...they're...they're going to return from where they came.~

"What engines?"

~Sodor...The Sodor engines will return...~

"What do you mean? Where did they go to?"

~Not where...What! They didn't go anywhere, but they will return!~

"Return? From where? Lady, you're not making any sense!"

~They'll go back to where they c-c-came from!~

"But, Lady, if they didn't go anywhere, how can they go back there?"

~You don't know about them. They'll return to the b-b-beginning. Where it all s-s-started.~

"Lady, what-"

~Go! Go, Burnett! Quickly. Go to Sodor! Go, before it's t-t-too late. Tell him, t-t-tell Topham Hatt. Tell him HE'S GOT TO OPEN THE BOX. Burnett, something else you must remember...Tell him...tell that the engines must never know what's inside it!~

ooo

Feeling clean and shiny again under the glow of the marshalling yard's arc-lights, Thomas and Percy reversed together into the engine shed where their friends were waiting for them. The bigger steam engines, Gordon, Henry and James, greeted them.

~Hello, Thomas. Hello, Percy,~ they chorused together.

~My, my,~ said Gordon. ~You two look quite miserable. Young Percy looks as though he's been crying. Have you two been arguing again?~

~No, no we haven't,~ huffed Thomas, indignantly. ~We've just... we've just had a bad day, that's all. Nothing for you to be concerned about. We're both tired and we want to go to sleep without any more fuss, if that's alright with all of you?~

~Oo-er!~ said James, knowing that his little blue friend had been acting rather cranky just recently. ~We ARE touchy tonight! Well, something's upset you both. Do you want to tell us about it?~ he asked the troubled pair.

Henry'd seen Diesel 10 slink past the engine sheds earlier on and knew that there was a possibility that the two smaller engines had had a confrontation with him. The big diesel had always had it in for the steam engines on Sodor, he knew, but tended to only bother the smaller ones. Henry knew that Diesel 10 wouldn't directly confront the larger steam engines like him and Gordon because they outnumbered him, but it just wasn't right that the little engines should suffer so much from the green bully. He didn't know why Sir Topham and the drivers put up with his antics. Their drivers were next to useless, anyway, as they were only there in case of breakdown or accidents, and they didn't want to interfere in the engines' squabbles if they wanted a quiet day. He pondered over Thomas as he closed his eyes to prepare himself for sleep. It's just so sad that everyone can't just get along with each other, he thought to himself.

Thomas didn't want to tell James and the others what had been happening to him because he knew that the larger engines would no doubt laugh at him and tell him to pull himself together. It's not fair, he thought, as he settled down for sleep. That big green bully never bothers the bigger engines, only us small steamies. It's the same with the other diesels as well, well, maybe not all of them. There are one or two that are friendly with us steamies, but the rest of them, well, they can all rust to pieces as far as I'm concerned.

~No, not tonight,~ he murmured sleepily to his red friend. ~Maybe another time.~

ooo

Burnett drove his pick-up as fast as he could to Shining Time Station. It was supposed to have been a sunny afternoon but that foul black smoke was blotting out the light from the sun and now, a mist had fallen and it was raining, a most horrible, cold and oily rain indeed. Large drops, too big to be natural rain, falling slower than they should gave an eerie effect to the scenery around him as once they hit the ground, they congealed together into pools of black slime and his pick-up had slid once or twice when he'd had to apply the brakes to slow down for a corner. The only thing going well for him in his hurried drive to Shining Time Station and the magic tunnel was that his eyes had finally stopped watering. They still ached, though, and despite the fact that his vision was a lot clearer, he needed to use his headlights to see the road in front of him.

As he came up to a level crossing that Lady had travelled over on her way back to Muffle Mountain, he stopped the pick-up, got out a rag that he kept inside the glove compartment, and stepped climbed to the roadside. He walked over to beside the track, crouched down and carefully scooped up a sample of the black slag that Lady's gold shavings had turned into. Quickly putting them into a pocket of his engineer's overalls, he climbed back into his pick-up and carried on to Shining Time.

As he drove along, he could see the black smoke now and again where it still hung over the rail track, and that's where it was at it's thickest. The thin tendrils reaching down to the ground looked like tree roots searching for water, but instead of sucking up water, they seemed to be pulsing as though they were sending something into the ground. The smoke that had spread out above the fields and woods wasn't as thick and black as the main cloud, but it still made the afternoon seem as though dusk had fallen early.

His lungs had been badly affected by the smoke he'd already breathed in, as he'd been coughing violently for most of the journey from Muffle Mountain, and he hoped that he'd get to Shining Time before he passed out and crashed. He had to get to the station and to Sodor. If Lady died for good this time, he knew it would be the end of all the railroad magic. What would happen after that? he wondered. He struggled to dispel his worries and concentrate on his driving instead, but it was proving to be a near-impossible task. Just another ten minutes or so, he thought to himself, and I'll be there!

Shining Time, under the black cloud of smoke and the grey mist, was like a ghost town he might see in a horror film. There was nobody about on the streets and all the doors and windows were closed. It seemed to Burnett that everybody must have gone home to escape the effects of the black smoke. He had no idea what it would eventually do to anyone that breathed it in. All he knew was that his lungs ached with every breath he took and that his eyes were sore. As to what else the smoke was doing to him, he couldn't guess, though he feared that whatever it was, it had to be bad. He'd never seem smoke like this in all his life.

Stopping his pick-up outside Shining Time station, he climbed out and glanced around as he ran toward the entrance. The street outside looked as though everyone had closed early for the day, as deserted as it was, but then, through one of the station's windows, he noticed that there was still a light on in the general office, and he ran through the large falling raindrops and burst in, stopping in his tracks as he saw that the smoke had somehow gotten inside. To his horror, through the grey haze that filled the office, he could see Stacy Jones slumped over the counter, and she wasn't moving. He couldn't phone for help, he realised, because she'd knocked the phone onto the floor and the mouthpiece had broken off the receiver.

"Stacy!" he called, but she neither replied nor moved. Quickly, he reached down to pick up her right arm to check for a pulse with his fingertips, then let out a sigh of relief as he detected a faint but steady beat.

"Stacy! Wake up!" he called out again, gently lifting her up off the counter to sit her back in her chair.

He held her chin up with his left hand and used his right to pick up a glass of water from her desk and hold it near her lips, ready for her to take a sip from it when she came round. If she comes round, that is, he thought, sadly. Tutting as he noticed little oily specks floating in the water, he poured it onto the floor and reached over behind Stacy's chair to the water dispenser and pushed the glass against the tap-lever to pour some fresh water into the glass.

"Stacy! Can you hear me?" he asked, and still there was no reply.

Looking round for a cushion or something else that was soft enough, and not seeing anything, he put the glass back on the desk and picked up a couple of tourist magazines, putting them on top the desk's blotter pad to act as a pillow. Carefully, he placed Stacy's arms over the top of the desk and her head on top of the magazines. He softly kissed the back of her head, murmuring to her that he'll phone for help from Sodor and wished her speedy recovery from whatever it is that's affecting her. He then looked over to the little signal box in the mural on the wall where Mr. Conductor lived. To his horror, the body of the small man lay equally as motionless on the shelf just below the signal box's entrance door. In one of the man's hands he could see the chain of Mr. C's small whistle hanging down over the edge of the wooden ledge the little station manager would stand when he chatted with people.

Burnett leapt over to the still man, hoping that it wasn't too late to save him and to make him comfortable until he recovered, but as he checked for any signs of life, his heart fell with a great sadness as he realised that it was too late. Mr. C was dead, and not even his own magic had saved him from the black foulness that was spreading everywhere.

Burnett turned his head to look around the office and saw the two elderly women that liked to sit and knit as they chatted in the station's waiting area, and they were unconscious, maybe dead, as well. The women were sitting as still as statues with their knitting resting on their laps, several balls of coloured wool on the floor now covered with a layer of black dust that was trying to hide the red, yellow, green and blue they'd been knitting into sweaters. The smoke had obviously affected everyone in the station, he thought with some bitterness. Still, he thought, he had to get to Sodor. The only way to save everyone was to get help from Sir Topham Hatt and whatever it was inside the box that he was to open.

Carefully, he prised open Mr. Conductor's lifeless fingers and plucked the blackened little whistle from his tiny hand and watched as it enlarged to fit snugly inside his own. He wiped off the thin film of oily black dust that was on it with his handkerchief, after all, he didn't want to swallow any more of that foul stuff; he was suffering enough as it was. He gently shook the whistle by his ear, listening to the grains of sparkle moving about inside. Thank goodness something's going right for me, he thought, as he hung the whistle's thin long chain around his neck

"I'm so sorry, my friend," he whispered, looking down at the small body laying on the shelf. "May you be at peace wherever you are."

He raised the whistle up to his lips and, focusing his thoughts on the tunnel painted on the mural in front of him, blew the whistle three times, suddenly feeling himself being pulled inside the tunnel and onto the magic railroad that would take him to the Island of Sodor.

ooo

Thomas was having a wonderful dream, despite his earlier woes. He was racing along his branch line with his two coaches, Annie and Clarabel, chatting away behind him. They were running on time and all was going well. Every bridge they went under had people standing on it, waving and cheering at him as he went under and back out the other side. He'd even beaten his friend, Bertie the Bus, to the previous station where he'd been congratulated by Sir Topham for his excellent behaviour as he raced by. He tooted his whistle back to the onlookers standing on the bridge and wondered what that clanking sound he could hear was. He hoped he hadn't snapped a connecting rod or broken a link somewhere, but he carried on regardless. No, he thought, the clanking sound was coming from behind him, and he hoped that nothing had happened to Annie or Clarabel. No, the noise wasn't behind him, he suddenly realised, and it wasn't coming from the two coaches, either. No, it was coming from above him, and it was getting closer and closer and louder and LOUDER...

~GO FASTER, THOMAS,~ screamed Annie and Clarabel together. ~HE'S ALMOST GOT YOU!~

ooo

Burnett was feeling too disoriented to notice much of what was going on as he flew through the haze of grey mist that had somehow followed him onto the magic railroad. His only thought was to stay conscious enough to get the message to Sir Topham Hatt. Even if he himself succumbed to the effects of the foul black smoke, he had to do whatever he could to ensure that Lady was saved. He'd let her down in the past and it wasn't going to happen again, he swore. She was all he had to live for now.

After what seemed like forever and far too long but was in fact a mere fraction of time, Burnett found himself stumbling out from between the magical buffers and into the darkness that was the Island of Sodor. He cursed softly, fearing the worst, and then felt quite foolish as he realised that Sodor was several hours ahead of where he'd just come from and that it was the blackness of night that he could seeing, not the black smoke. He looked up and was gratified to see countless tiny pin-pricks of light from the stars high above him. Then looked down, and couldn't even see his own feet in the pitch-blackness around him, not until his sore eyes got used to the dark. He stood still for a few minutes to get his breath back and for his eyes to become accustomed to the low level of light.

Soon, he was just about able to make out the faint shine of a twin set of rails and stepped forward carefully, not wanting to trip over either the two rails or the wooden sleepers he was stepping on. He could hardly see where he was going anyway and the last thing he wanted to do was to stumble and knock himself out. He pondered for a few moments on the best thing to do; whether to walk for help or use Mr. C's whistle. He wondered where Sir Topham was likely to be right now and decided that Hatt Hall would be the best bet. Focusing his thoughts on Sir Topham's elegant home, he brought Mr C's whistle to his lips and took a deep breath, but then he coughed rather violently and felt something moist hit the back of his hand. Oh, God, he thought. I hope it's not blood.

Instead of blowing into the whistle, he dug around in his pockets for his small torch and used it to check what he'd just coughed up. Thankfully, it wasn't blood, but when he touched the moist lump with his fingertip it felt gritty, and he saw he pulled his fingertip away, he saw, in the torchlight, tiny little tendrils stretching from the globule of moisture up to his fingertip. "Oh, no," he gasped. I can't use the whistle now or I'll contaminate the rest of the sparkle! Wiping the back of his hand on a clump of grass beside the track, he sighed heavily and started to make his way along the track towards where it joined onto the main line. Walking it is, then! he thought to himself.

He recalled from his previous time on Sodor that it was only a short distance away, and then only about a half mile to the next station. If there aren't any trains that I can flag down, he thought, I'll just have to try my luck on the road and stop a car. As he set off, he failed to see a thin wisp of grey mist slowly forming around the mess he'd just wiped on the grass as it got bigger and bigger until it reached up into the star-lit sky above Sodor. Though not as concentrated or as strong as that which had wreaked such havoc in Shining Time, it would soon be strong enough to create its own level of chaos and despair.

The cloud of grey mist lengthened somewhat and a thin tendril stretched out from its leading edge as the cloud drifted in the light breeze. The tendril paused its movement for a few seconds, just like the tongue of a snake sensing vibrations in the air around it, and, just like a snake striking out once it recognised its prey as being close enough to bite, the tendril stretched out and up high into the night air, away from the area of the magical buffers, expanding just like a balloon with even more black tendrils growing out of the cloud as it absorbed lingering magic from the magic portal's use when the Sodor engines had travelled through it to take Lady's coal to her.

After reaching the main line, stopping several times due to severe bouts of coughing and to catch his breath, Burnett reckoned he must have been walking for a good half hour before he came upon a small platform. A single solitary lit bulb on one end of a wooden shelter enabled him to see enough to climb the half-dozen concrete steps onto the platform and to look around for a phone booth. Not seeing one anywhere, he decided to check the timetable affixed to the shelter below the light. Checking the time on his watch in the soft yellow glow, and calculating the difference in hours, he was relieved to see that there was an hourly service due fairly soon. Things are looking up, he thought to himself. He'd knew he'd never be able to walk all the way to Hatt Hall in his current state.

Soon, the ringing of a bell and the sound of an engine announced the impending arrival of the hourly service. Although he was sure that he was illuminated enough by the light on the shelter, he stepped near the edge of the platform and waved his lit torch about so that he'd be sure to be seen. As the faint glow from a lamp at the front of the approaching train got brighter and brighter, Burnett saw that it was a skirted tram engine pulling a single coach. Now at the small station, it slowed down and stopped.

"Thank goodness," wheezed Burnett, recognising Toby. "I've got to get to Sir Topham Hatt," he said to the tramcar. "It's life or death. Lady's losing her magic and I've got to give him an urgent message."

~Who are you?~ Toby asked the tired and ill-looking man currently standing on the platform.

Toby knew who Lady was, though, as he'd helped Thomas that time when Diesel 10 and his cronies had made plans to destroy the magical buffers connecting Sodor with Shining Time Station, but although this man's face did seem familiar, he couldn't quite put a name to him, though he could sense that he was connected to the magic railway in some way.

"I'm Burnett Stone. I'm Lady's engineer."

~Of course,~ exclaimed Toby. ~I remember you now. If Lady's in trouble, then you'd better get inside my cab and tell me what's wrong with her. I'm sure we can all help in some way.~

Burnett climbed into Toby's cab and they set off. Burnett told Toby of Lady's strange sickness and the foul black smoke that was making everyone, including himself. very ill as well as killing Mr. C.

~This is very bad news, Henrietta,~ Toby called back to his long-time friend. ~This is too important for us to be worried about running early. We've got to get to back Knapford as quickly as we can.~

Toby wasn't really built or designed for great speed, especially with a coach behind him, and this fact became apparent as they neared one particular bend. Due to the difficult financial state the Sodor railways were experiencing, repairs to the tracks where prioritised as to their urgency, and it was merely due to the fact that all the engines that used this particular line were aware that this section of track was gradually getting looser and looser over time and they all slowed down so as not to put too much pressure on the weakening tracks. The fact that it was scheduled for repair the very next week when Sir Topham's cashflow situation was looking a bit better was rather ironic, for the accident that happened next had been becoming more likely, and it only needed something unusual to happen and disaster would strike.

In his rush to get Burnett Stone to Knapford as quickly as he could, Toby only realised where he was at the last moment, but it was too late and he couldn't slow down in time. The length of rail suddenly found that it couldn't handle the extreme force that was suddenly being imposed upon it as Toby hurtled round the bend, and as soon as the tram engine went over the weakest point, it was forced out from the last few spikes holding it in place. Toby was, of course, derailed. It wouldn't have mattered much if he was travelling at the slow speed that he ought to have been, but Toby had been going way too fast, and as his wheels bounced over the sleepers, he tipped over onto his side, pulling poor Henrietta down with him. Fortunately, Henrietta didn't have any passengers inside. Unfortunately, Burnett had been thrown out of Toby's cab and hit the rocky ground quite forcibly, rolling over and banging his head on a large stone.

ooo

Thomas was panicking. He didn't know who or what it was that was chasing him. All he knew was that he mustn't be caught, but thankfully, he was nearing a tunnel. Maybe that would help him get away from his pursuer.

Thomas sped up and his boiler felt as though it was going to burst at the seams with the effort he was putting into it. Annie and Clarabel were still screaming with fear, which only added to his despair. The entrance to the tunnel was getting nearer and nearer, and the clanking was getting even nearer and louder every second. Then he heard a loud voice.

~You can't run away from me, you horrible little engine. I'm gonna get you and smash you to bits!~

Thomas couldn't let himself get caught. He strained and squeezed and managed to pick up a little bit more speed. The smoke was absolutely belching out of his chimney and he thought he was going to pass out with all the effort he was putting into it, but he just had to get into that tunnel to be safe, not only for himself, but for Annie and Clarabel as well. He didn't want them to get caught either.

At last, he raced into the tunnel and safety, but in the blackness around him, he could heard his pursuer growl, I've got you now, Thomas!~

~NOOOOOOoooooo...~ he wailed.

He couldn't stop now. He'd never been this fast before, not even when he and Lady were being chased by Diesel 10 that time he'd helped her to get her magic back. He could feel his wheels wobble with the effort he was putting into escaping this nightmare, and he was straining so hard that it was making him cough. He was still surrounded by blackness of the tunnel, but he could see light from the tiny blurry exit in the distance and soon he'd be out in the fresh air again. As he got nearer to the exit, he noticed that it was still rather blurry, so he blinked several times to clear his itchy eyes.

The tunnel exit grew bigger and bigger the nearer he got to it. The only problem, thought Thomas, was that his wheels felt as though they were going to fall off, leaving him to crash onto the wooden sleepers and lie there helpless as his pursuer finally caught up to him and smashed him to bits.

Finally, Thomas exited the tunnel, still running as fast as his legs could carry him. Legs? His lungs were aching and his head hurt. Lungs? Head? Thomas looked down and gasped at what he saw, then cried in alarm as he tripped over a wooden sleeper and stumbled onto the wooden sleepers with such a jolt that he woke, sitting up with the intensity of his frightful dream.

ooOOoo