Five Score Divided by Four: Highball

by RRBrony

Rating: teen
Tags: Violence, Human, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Other, Profanity, Adventure
Length: 10428

Based on the 5s/4 universe. Discord tries out his spell on an unsuspecting crew of train ponies on nightmare night.

It's Halloween 2019 and strange things are happening to a group of four people as they begin to turn into ponies. Low and behold they were cursed by the lord of chaos himself as a kind of "Proof of concept" along one of the most haunted railroad lines in all of Equus where strange things have to the trains and ponies during nightmare night. Now they are left to figure out how to survive on earth as ponies, join them in their adventure as they try to carve out a semblance of living like the highly intelligent ponies they are without going insane.

I would also like to thank these people for reading and editing my mess:
Hazy Spark for looking over the document.
Tyler, who helped push and encourage me to actually make this a reality.
Alyssa, who actually urged me to change up the way I was going to go about writing this story. She really pushed my writing to be better and actually turn out something amazing.

Published 2021-08-09 15:10:00 UTC
Last updated 2022-03-31 02:42:30 UTC

Ch 1 Train Wreck

Ch 1 Train Wreck

The clickity clack of the iron track and swaying of the steam engine fill my ears as my train surges ahead in the darkness with a mediocre headlight lighting the way. I was the engineer this night, taking my freight train through to the next interchange where we would lay over for the night and then head back with another train tomorrow.

My firepony, Ember, was struggling to keep up with the demands of the engine tonight. To be fair, it wasn’t entirely her fault. This was a particularly challenging route and the engine was struggling with her heavier than usual load. The little 4-4-0 Equestrian engine type was one of the first designs for the railroad and ever since then the trains started getting longer and the freight heavier. It was taking every bit of steam and power the little engine had in it to keep up with the demand.

I looked over at Ember and saw how she was wearing out as she strove to feed the ever increasing appetite of the engine as I pushed it to its limits. The glow in the cab from the opening and closing of the firebox doors made it seem like we were trying to beat back the fiery breath of a dragon. The evening air had a brisk chill that tugged at my face, but the heat coming off of the engine kept me warm.

I look out the engine cab up the tracks to see the marker indicating the old station and water tower stop. It was customary to call for the old stop even if it had been written out of the newest timetable, so I prepared to look back for a signal from the conductor. I gave a long pull on the whistle cord and looked back for a hoof or lantern signal.

The answer came surprisingly quickly with a lantern swinging side to side, indicating for me to make the stop. With three short blasts on the whistle I indicate that I acknowledge the signal to stop at the abandoned station.

Knowing that the water tower was at the very end of the station platform, I decided we might as well stop there and top off the tender with water. With a practiced and steady hoof I push the throttle in, reducing the amount of steam being used and easing the fast pace that had been set for the engine since the beginning of the run. This particular engine seemed to run better with shorter bursts of steam being released into the cylinders, but ended up using more during our trip because of how fast the drive rods had been moving. This was the reason Ember had been struggling so hard to keep up with the demand for steam. The engine was using it about as fast as it was made.

The steam engine lumbers to the water tower and, like the old pro that I am, I get it spotted directly under the water spout on the first try. I set up the brakes and give a short blast on the whistle, letting the crew know the brakes are set and that the train won’t be going anywhere until we’re ready to leave.

Ember clambers down the steps of the cab and proceeds to start watering the tender. I climb down off the engine as well, and make my way back towards the caboose to talk to the conductor and rear brakepony.

It seems they had the same idea as well because they were already making their way up to the head end of the train. We met at about the middle of the train.

“What’s up?” I ask as I near the uniformed mare in charge of the train.

She cocks her head and gives me that look I’ve seen all too often before. “Why did you stop? Don’t tell me y’all have managed to suck the poor thing dry already.”

At this I scrunch up my muzzle and say, “Hey I called out for the whistle stop and you gave the stop signal. I figured you wanted to take a look at the train or something.”

Having heard that, Pacesetter sighs and places her hoof in the middle of her forehead, doing a slow facehoof. She rubs her forehead for a moment before placing it back down. ”Ah, right. It would make sense on a night like tonight.”

I chuckle a little bit, knowing the mythos and legends of this part of the now infamous line. “Oh come now, its ONLY on Nightmare night Pacesetter, and tonight is your lucky night.”

Pacesetter shivers, “Lucky Night?? Celest why did any of us agree to this trip? So far I have been lucky and haven’t had to run the “Fright Freight” on Nightmare night.”

I click my tongue. “Don’t be a wuss, we all wanted the extra pay, and Keeper here doesn’t have any seniority. Plus this is my fourth time making this run and so far it’s been the least bizarre one, certainly better than my last one...”

Keeper begins to tremble a little, drawing our gaze to her. “Is that story really true?” she says in a quiet and timid voice.

“That my dear is a super loaded question. You’ll have to ask a more specific one.” I say with a small chuckle.

“D-did that train wreck really result in no ponies ever being found?” The mare asks, her voice wavering and her body turning a little paler.

This question sent a chill down my spine and through my legs. My coat bristled as my eyes grew serious. My tone goes from light hearted to a deadpan firmness. “Yes." I pause for a brief moment before I continue. "I was the engineer on the ‘rescue’ train. The bizarre thing was that nothing appeared to have caused the wreck, no bad track or damaged wheels, it was eerie and very strange. The crew was never found or heard from again, like they just ceased to exist. They say you can still hear the ghostly wail of the engine on a clear night.”

“And…. that happened on a night like tonight?”

I nod my head, not really wanting to say it out loud and jinx us any further.

At that moment, the pop off valve begins to lift off releasing steam and making a low moaning sound. Keeper startles at the sound.

“Iron, will you quit scaring my Brakepony and get us moving? I’m sure Ember has fixed whatever mess your running has done to that poor engine”, Pacesetter says staring me down.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that the company screwed us with this little engine and a heavy ass train! Let's just get the hell out of here.” I turn and make my way back towards the steam engine, wanting to get this freight run the hell over with already.

Ember is already back in the cab and busy loading the firebox with coal, preparing for the heavy grades that will test even the best of engine crews. I don’t say a word but suddenly I have a gut feeling that tonight is going to be life altering. I just hope that I make it through it.

I push the johnson bar all the way forward to get the maximum steam pressure into the cylinders so I can get this heavy train on the move quickly. The time for being idle is over and I am planning on making up some time. I crack open the throttle and release the air brakes. As the steam fills the cylinders I open the throttle wide and then push it back in almost all the way. It’s a technique I call “taming the dragon” where you move the throttle in quick motions to get the train started.

With a loud rush of steam and smoke, the engine begins to roll forward. I repeat the process several times until we’ve got a little momentum. Once we've picked up enough speed, I then pull the throttle open and let the steam do it's work as it pushes and pulls the cylinder heads that drive the wheels. I add sand onto the rails to help ensure the wheels don’t break free and spin. After a minute more of the sluggish acceleration I pull the johnson bar to just a hair below center, which allows less steam to be let into the cylinders and use its expansive properties better. I open the throttle even wider. I can feel the engine clawing for speed as we begin a slight downgrade, the last one until we clear the mountains, and I plan on using it to gain all the speed I can.

The sounds of the engine working hard echoes off the landscape as I push even harder. The throttle is wide open and the engine is thundering down at an ever increasing speed. Something grabs my attention and it causes me to lose focus and not slow down for the curve at the bottom of the hill which is 20 degrees to the right to begin the big climb. I hear a scream from beside me.

The train is doing well above fifty miles per hour on a thirty-five mile an hour curve. The whole engine leans heavily to the left and then … a thunderous BOOOOMMMM!!!!

* * *

*KABOOOMMM*

I jerk straight up in bed and clutch my heart as it pounds furiously. I attempt to catch my breath, taking in air and letting it out slowly to calm my frazzled nerves. “Damn, that was one hell of a nightmare!!” I say out loud. It was unlike any nightmare I had ever had. It felt too real, almost as if I really experienced that crash. It was almost as if I had a near death experience...or maybe it was death..The creepiest part of the dream was how natural it felt to be a pony. It was like...I was being my true self

While I ponder over the nightmare, I reach over and pick up my phone. I took a look at the lock screen which gives me the time and weather updates.

Thurs. Oct. 31st 2019 6:55 AM.
95% chance Thunderstorms in Belen NM.

“Damn it!!” I swear under my breath. Today is going to be a miserable day at work, on my birthday of all days. I suppose this is just another sign that the world hates my guts and wants to make my life even more miserable.

I lay my head back on the pillow and just stare up at the hotel ceiling, mildly annoyed but quietly resigned to my fate of having to do track work in the rain and miserably cold weather.

At seven in the morning the alarm sounds letting me know that I have to get moving or risk being late for work. With a toss of the covers I begin my routine of throwing on winter clothing and preparing for a long and cold day!

* * *

At 07:30 I open the door to the depot as the roadmaster was starting roll call to see if anyone hadn’t made it in. It suddenly occurred to me that I should probably have called in sick.

“Ben Maybry.” I hear the roadmaster call.

“I’m here boss.” I say as I locate a place to sit down. I zone out as the rest of the people present answer to their names being called. I keep thinking back to that nightmare, honestly I was jealous of the Pony who was running steam engines. Although, I am not envious of his fate that my brain created for him. “I should really write that whole scene out, it would make for a great scene for Fimfiction.net.” I thought. Today was going to be miserable trying to maintain the mainline and doing the exact opposite of what I enjoyed. Why was it that I was born in the wrong damn era where steam was a bygone era and only low margin tourist railroads even offered steam powered trains. Hell even those were being ruthlessly targeted and hated on. It was like every fiber of my being was assaulted when I heard how those little railroads struggled.

I was pulled away from my inward contemplation by the roadmaster clearing his throat. “Gentlemen, I do hope that you don’t have any plans for the rest of this week, including the weekend. We had a major derailment caused by a washout near mountainaire at around four this morning. From the accounts of the train crew about 40 cars are on the ground and the five headend engines are in the ditch. Hulcher is already headed to the derailment site to begin clearing the cars off and getting the ones still on the track ready to be dragged off by the rear engines.”

It takes every bit of my self restraint to not bang my head on the conference room table. “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!” is the only thing I think as the words sink in. A derailment means you’re on the clock until trains are able to run again, which means I can’t even celebrate my birthday by myself. Also forget about going home and sleeping. There is going to be a lot of sitting and waiting until there is something we can do.

The mood in the room is sour as everyone begins getting additional PPE that will allow them to work at night. Packing extra just in case we are at the work site for several days. I get up out of my chair and follow my coworkers lead. Gotta ensure I can keep working all day and night, I let out a sad chuckle. I guess it's just like the song says. We'll be working on the railroad all the livelong day and then some.

Author's Note

Well, this is my first chapter of my first fic, so this is exciting. I want to thank my best friend Tyler who keeps giving me inspiration as well as ideas and drive to make this happen.

The Equestrian engine is basically an American 4-4-0 steam engine from the early 1830's type locomotive. At this phase in the railroad these things are obsolete and used for extra's trains that aren't as important.

Ch 3 In The Ditch

Ch 3 In The Ditch

The pitter patter of the rain was punctuated by the flashes of lightning and the booming of thunder as the night sky was awash in bluish white light. The storm raged on until wee hours of the morning when it began to settle down into a light rain with periodic lightning strikes and booming thunder. No longer was it ferocious, but it didn’t want to go away as it kept striking the ground whenever the 30 minute wait time was over. Restarting the clock and making us wait another 30 minutes.

“For crying out loud.” I say to no one in particular.

“I’m all for overtime and staying until the job is done, but this roadmaster is an absolute ass for not letting us go to the hotel and sleep until the weather breaks.” Garret says, his tone is drenched in bitterness and frustration.

“I totally agree, does he think that we aren’t going to come back if we leave the job site?!” I grouse. “But then again he’s a micromanaging prick of a company-man who would sooner sell his mom if he thought it would bring in money to lower his spending costs.”

“To be honest, I never believed those rumors. Always thought they were exaggerations to make him out worse then he actually was. I’m starting to see why people use similar examples. What doesn’t make sense is the why. We’re going to be paid even when we’re at the hotel, so what’s the deal with sitting here?”

“Oh, dear Garret. You don’t see the big picture.” I say in a honey laced sweet voice. “That means we’re costing him hotel rooms and it means that we would have to travel back from the hotel in order to work on the tracks. Which means lost productivity and added costs. It’s not only a control thing, it’s also a money thing. Why would he want to pay more money waiting for people to show back up when they are needed? After all, if we’re right here we can jump out and get to work as soon as we are needed and no waiting for people to crawl out of bed. Heaven forbid they get the job/work completed ahead of schedule and we could have gotten the tracks opened up sooner.”

Garret puts his head into his hands and mutters, “God damn, you really do think like a roadmaster.” He turns to me. “So why aren’t you a roadmaster again?”

I chew on my lip as I think of my reply. Truth be told I had looked into becoming one, but the fact that they only wanted to hire people fresh from college who didn’t have a union job that they could fall back on. That gave me the answer I needed.

“Well, after looking into it I found that they really don’t want to hire from within. They are seeking freshly graduated college kids who have lots of debt and can’t fall back into the craft if the company fires them for standing their ground. That’s why that one roadmaster from Fort Worth was sacked. He told the big boss he wasn’t going to let his guys go to work with that faulty equipment. A few days later he was fired without cause, they claimed it was because he kept overspending without any results. But everyone could read inbetween the lines and knew they were itching for a reason to hang him out to dry. Since the roadmasters aren’t union they didn’t even have to give a reason why they canned him. In his place they got a 23 year old who barely finished getting turned out of the new hire class. He told those guys to get to work or get written up. Nothing changed, just that the company found someone they could bully.” My frustration was building in my tone as I began to recall the shit that got pulled.

“I don’t want to be a corporate stooge and screw the guys under me like that. I just don’t think I’d be able to keep that job very long. The big wigs are always talking about a “culture shift” towards safety, but throw that to the curb if it comes down to the almighty dollar. Fucking empty suits who never got out of their cushy office to swing a munday or spike mall.” By the time I finish my rant, my hands are clenched tightly into fists.

“Woah, easy there Ben. I know you're passionate about this topic but don’t go crazy on me here.”

“Sorry.” I reply in a subdued tone, I close my eyes and take a breath. “I just hate it when management screws people over.”

“Unfortunately there’s not a whole that can be done unless someone changes things from the top.” Garret’s tone is tinged with a hint of sadness.

I look at my phone screen to check the time, which showed that it was 7:50 AM and that I had a missed call and voicemail from Tyler. My brain reels as I don't know why this guy whom I have barely talked to in years would call me at this time in the morning. Fearing the worst, I opened up the dialer app on my phone and hit the voicemail to connect to my inbox to listen to the message.

"Hey Ben, it's Tyler, happy belated birthday." Sigh...*chuckle*... “Sorry I missed it, I know it was yesterday but I just checked my phone this morning and realized I had missed it, so I'm really sorry. Umm...Hey umm uh-ah. You... *sigh* Ah fuck how do I say this? UH...ye.... You know... some of those dreams you had before when we were in Durango? …about ponies and trains and what not? Umm....Listen I know I considered you crazy then but I just had the WILDEST fucking dream last night. I-I guess I was just sleep deprived from work, but MAN IT it kinda got me freaked out, some of the sections in that and um...l-let's just say that some other stuff is happening to that I would like to talk to someone about with. (fast talking) It-would-mean-a-lot-to-me Umm if you're not too busy that is. I'm sure you're out in the middle of nowhere working like normal. (fast talking ends) Umm... Give me a call back whenever you get a chance. Bye."

I sit there in stunned silence, then I listen again to the part of the voicemail where Tyler talks about my dreams from Durango. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that those stories could be linked to...whatever the hell this was. Why would Tyler bring that up now if all times?

The sound of the automated female voice broke my chain of thought as she asked if I wanted to save or delete the voicemail.

I quickly save the voicemail, then a sudden rush of guilt fills me as I realize that I totally forgot to wish him a happy birthday, come to think of it. When WAS his birthday?

As my thoughts bounced around that thought, I opened the messenger app on my phone to shoot him a quick text.

“Hey man. Thanks for the birthday wishes. I’m a moron and forgot when your birthday was. The last 24 hours have been batshit crazy on the mainline, we’re doing real railroading work now. LOL. I hope everything is ok, um…. Nvm. I’ll give you a call when I can, hopefully this derailment will be cleaned up by then, just don’t jump off the deep end again into ponies like you told me you did last time. And if you do, please don’t get a tattoo or anything insane like that.”

I hit the send button not really expecting much in the way of a reply. Knowing my friend, he was probably busy playing with his mini-steam trains. The lucky devil, he got to play with steam engines at that little park of his and have fun while I was working a major cluster fuck of a wreck. He’s really good with those miniature trains and dealing with the people who visit the park’s trains.

Suddenly my hearing went silent and then my ears popped, almost like I had just changed air pressure and my eardrums were adjusting to the new air pressure. There was a shifting sound that came from Garret’s seat, the sound got clearer as my ears focused on the sound.

WAIT WHAT?!

My eyes bulge and I freeze in my seat as the realization sets in that my ears were able to focus in on the sound and add more clarity. There was a crack of thunder outside and my ears moved in the direction of the thunder clap’s direction.

The words “Oh shit, what the fuck!” hammered in my skull as my heart beat began to increase in speed, which my ears were able to detect. My mouth got really dry, almost like I had a whole bag of cotton balls in my mouth. I swallow what little saliva I have left and reach for my ears.

I put my hands where my ears are supposed to be…. 'Oh GOD they aren’t there.' I scream mentally as. Then my left ear gives a flick and I keep reaching my hands further up. I lift and tilt my phone back to get a better view of the top of my head. That’s when I them, my...my ears are standing tall and proud with a fur covering on them. They feel so soft and fuzzy too.

I toss the hair that’s in front of my face out of my eyes. “Oh for fucks sake. Celestia-damnit!” I say under my breath.

Garret begins to turn his head towards me and I have to act quickly. As quick as a whip I throw on my orange hard hat and safety glasses. “I’ve gotta take a shit, hope the port-o-shitter didn’t flood or float away.” I hollar as I beat a hasty retreat out of the truck and towards the bathroom while the wind pounded the small droplets of rain into my face.

I make the mad dash in record time. Slamming the door shut behind me, I lock it and place my back up against the door and I begin to slump down towards the floor. I stare up at the white ceiling and curse my rotten shitty luck.

I’m all alone outside and I yell out into the abyss, “WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO YOU?!” After screaming that, I then added “I’m turning into a fucking freak, the day after my 25th birthday. It’s almost like life is mocking me. First I’m born in the wrong goddamn century and can’t follow the path that is my passion and now it wants to ruin it altogether. FUCK! ... FUCK!!! FFFFFFUUUUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!” My frustration was clear and loud, only to be drowned out by the loudest thunder clap I’d ever heard.

The boom was deafening and it punctuated just how the world at large felt about my pain, suffice it to say, it sure didn’t seem to give a good flying fuck. Thinking of being fucked, I decided now was as good a time as any to see just how royally fucked I was.

I pulled out my phone that I stuffed in my pocket during my mad dash to the bathroom. I unlocked the screen and opened the camera app to turn my phone into a mirror of sorts.

My face scrunches up as my expression is a mix of horror and mild amusement by the sight that greets me. I was already expecting the ears, but my eyes, they aren’t the soft brown that they used to be, they’re a yellowish color and they appear oddly big. The pupils are larger than any human’s eyes are, and the fact that they are more akin to a cat's yellow eyes is somewhat unnerving.

That is just the first major revelation, the second one comes when I look at my hair. At first glance things look more or less normal, aside from the fact that it appears that it’s longer than I recalled. I take my hard hat off and there I see so much hair that at first I thought I was wearing a wig.

A quick tug and a yelp later confirms that the hair is real and it’s all mine. Being a brony, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that my current “hair” looked and acted more akin to a mane on a colorful pony then the hair of a human. The biggest and most noticeable thing was the hair color, it was very strange with lighter shades of black with light gray streaks. It really reminded me of Twilight's mane coloring from the time Discord took away her color. Only difference was that MY hair (mane?) was on the darker color spectrum.

It was then that I saw my ears just barely poking above the very long and somewhat puffy mane. They almost blended into the hair because they were a rather indistinct dark grayish black, albeit not a dark or shiny black. Indeed a very unique feature that complimented the hair and if this was a cosplay costume they would be the focal point for everyone’s envy. Alas, this was neither the time nor place to have such features, doubly so since I had a sickening gut feeling that this would be permanent.

It was at that thought that my brain began to shut down, a sudden panic attack kicked open my mental barriers screaming, “SURPRISE MOTHER FUCKER!” I began to hyperventilate and grab at my chest as the world began to close in on me. My little world was being turned upside down, I was alone and totally fucked. I had no one and nowhere to turn to. What would my parents say? Fuck that, what would they say or think if I turned into a pony? I didn’t even want to think about the snarky and fucked up shit my little brother would say. The last thought I had before I lost consciousness was if Tyler would be willing to care for a pony with his soon to be wife.

Author's Note

Here's to hoping you guys like the chapter. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it and share this story.

If I'm getting to technical with things let me know and I'll do my best to fix it.

Ch 4 On The Ground

Ch 4 On-The-Ground

*Bang*

*Bang, bang, BANG BANG*

The sound of someone banging began to rouse me, my head was still reeling and everything felt murky. Like I was wading through jello or something.

"Yeah, who is?!" I yell trying to sound annoyed. I didn't want anyone to know what was going on.

"Dude, Ben!! You've been in there for like 20 minutes, what's going on with you?" Came the familiar voice of Garret in a somewhat urgent and lowered tone.

"Man, I was trying to…. You know what, I'm not even going to say anymore on that subject." I say in embarrassment.

"Thank god, I don't want to know and now my brain is filled with all kinds of things that you could have followed up with that statement. Damn you man. I didn't want those images in my head." He said with disgust in his voice.

After a moment I heard the sound of soggy mud being walked through indicating that he was walking away from the port a potty. While still laying on the floor I wipe my forehead with my left hand and breathe a sigh of relief that I managed to dodge a bullet.

All things considered, it wasn't looking too good for me. Taking everything into account, it became clear that the cutie mark appearing was just the beginning of whatever was going on. The sudden appearance of the hair along with the ears indicated that I had a limited time before something else would change on my body.

“Well, I’m pretty sure these changes mean something but damn, I’m out here in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere working on a derailment hundreds of miles from home and safety.” I say quietly to myself.

I let out a long frustrated sigh and began to pull myself to my feet. I feel a little stiff in my legs and feet but I’ve got bigger things to worry about. The rain has gone and things are getting better with the weather which means we can hopefully get back to work.

That thought sparks a small amount of hope within me, the idea that we could get the job done soon would be the break I needed. I stretch my sore and achy muscles and let out a loud yawn as I open the door to the port-o-shitter.

Just as I make it to the section truck I hear the distinct sound of a mic being queued up from the truck's outside CB radio speaker. “Alright guys, we’re going to have a briefing and then we’ll get back to it.” The roadmaster said.

I can’t decide if I’m relieved or annoyed that I have to go back to work, but I know the sooner things move along the better off my current predicament will be. I look down at my feet and see I’m standing on my tip toes, yet I’m not falling on my face or all over the muddy ground.

I force my feet back to normal and make my way towards the briefing site with a shake of my head. That spark of hope surged at the realization that after the track rebuild and ballasting that I’ll be homeward bound. It made me step lively towards the meeting point, anxious to get it over with.

* * *

“Well that briefing took way longer than I ever thought possible.” Garret said with an annoyed tone.

“I know right! It turned more into a whine and bitch session about the sleeping accommodations than the actual dangers, hazards and issues we’ll be facing to get this mess fixed so we can go home and relax.” I say in a grumpy tone.

The briefing should have been maybe twenty or so minutes to discuss the plan and what our roles would be. But noooo, it took an HOUR!! A freaking HOUR to get through the briefing! I don’t have the luxury of burning time, I need to get out and get home before some other thing changes on my body and I get poked and prodded to find out what’s happening to me. I hate seeing doctors and being in hospitals.

“On the bright side, we got an extra hour of double time because of it.”

“I don’t know man…. I really need to get out of here. I’m dealing with some shit in my personal life and this derailment is really fucking it up.” I lower my voice and say, “I’m experiencing some physical changes that are worrying me."

"Dude, why don't you tell the roadmaster you need to leave?" Garret's tone was lowered and tinged with concern.

"He's going to want to know what the hell is going on and I'm just not prepared to tell anyone yet. Sorry, that includes you."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you. But if it's that bad you should really get out of here and go see a doctor."

I screwed up my face at the recommendation. "I'm not sure they can help or explain what's happening."

He looks at me with a worried expression with an underlying tone of utter confusion. "I mean, unless you're turning into BigFoot or you're secretly an alien I highly doubt that they can't help you."

I give him a deadpan look.

"Oh....."

"Yeah." Was the only thing I could think of to reply. It didn't confirm or deny what was going on. But hopefully let him know that things were beyond the doctor's help.

After an awkward silence ensued, I point with my right hand thumb that I would be getting to work unloading the track panels. During the night more heavy equipment was trucked in that could deal with the soft quicksand like mud that would ensnare machinery not equipement to handle it. We had to get the crane and flat cars with the track panels off the other main so they could run trains.

* * *

A clattering of chains and whining of cable for the last time signaled that the track crane had dropped the last track panel. Thankfully for me, it was the last one for the project. After that panel was dropped on the ground I began helping them secure the crane to be moved back into the Belen yard and clear off the other main.

It felt like a year had passed by as I unloaded the track panels, but a quick look at my wrist watch told me that only about two hours had passed since I first started unloading the panels. It didn’t help that my legs and pelvis were screaming at me as if I had taken a munday and smashed them with it.

Speaking of munday’s, I walked over to the section truck and grabbed a ten pound sledge hammer before heading towards the second track panel. I was hoping they would have been half way done with the track laying, but a quick inspection showed that instead of drilling holes in the rail and bolting bars they were being welded.

“Well, I see that we aren’t going to be getting done anytime soon.” I mutter under my breath. I take a deep breath in and let it out. “I just have to get through this…… I can hold out. I know I can.” I think to myself.

I jump in the middle of the ongoing work with a determined face and hell bent on getting out of here. Once again time began to move along, it almost felt like an out of body experience, as if I was just a passenger watching a first person movie. The work was moving along at a snail's pace, but one panel after another was placed, welded and we moved on to the next one.

Suddenly a sharp pain in my lower back brought me from the weird state I was in. I was swinging a munday at the time of the intense pain, I slowly stood back up and grimaced in pain. I took in some sharp and deep breaths trying to regain my composure and not draw attention to myself.

After a few breaths I slowly and painfully started walking towards the section truck to grab some pain killers. My normally long strides were rather short and painful, which made the trek to the truck feel like walking up a mountain for miles. While walking I looked down and saw that I was walking on my tippy toes with a wild looking bend in my legs.

“I see things are getting wilder by hour and there’s no end in sight.” I think to myself. There’s an inner battle waging on whether or not I want to see what all has transformed while the other part doesn’t even want to acknowledge that anything is happening.

Once I got to the truck I located my pain meds and took about four advil to make the pain go away and insure it wouldn’t come back up anytime soon. We were getting so close to getting everything buttoned up and getting out of dodge, the next thing we had to ballast the tracks. Which shouldn’t take too long and then it would be a simple tamping, regulating and calling it quits.

* * *

It was a few hours later, but finally the tamper and ballast regulator were finished leveling the track and building the shoulders along the side of the track. We ended up falling behind on this aspect of the job because we didn’t have a ballast train that we could run over the massive washout. It took almost three hours for the front end loaders to place enough ballast for the tamper to even lift the track up.

The end result was a total of three lifts to bring the track up almost a foot in order to pull the dip out of the track. I was beginning to get discouraged at all the setbacks, but finally sometime after 7:30 pm we were pulling up the Rip Rap train to dump massive boulders along the fill we had just placed.

I survey the landscape once again, a sense of dread fills me as the end results of mother nature's fury stares back at me. The track ended up having 300 feet washed out with a 20-30 foot drop at the steepest point and maybe a couple of feet at the edge of the washout. It honestly looked like someone took a vaguely U/V shaped hand shovel and cut right through the area, it was one of the reasons why there was such a struggle getting the machines to remove the wrecked train. Thankfully they ended up falling in between main one and main two, allowing the wrecking crane to get a decent amount of them with only the mildest of issues. Still, those tankers carrying extremely toxic/dangerous materials had to be removed before we could even begin to make the repairs.

I was standing about halfway up the cut on the south side, which was the direction the engine was coming from and headed northward. The plan, as laid out by the roadmaster, was to pull the entire train of Rip Rap across the 300 foot washout area and then dump the boulders one car at a time this way we would at least have coverage all along the base to help protect the new ballast and earthwork we had rapidly built. Then whatever we had left would be used to fill in gaps and strengthen areas that were most likely to be washed away if the water came back.

Garret and a female train conductor were down in the cut, Garret and her were “walking the train” through the newly laid track at walking speed, which is about 2-4 mph. All seemed to be well, nothing out of the ordinary. Then suddenly I felt a nagging sensation at the back of my head, which caused me to shake it. “Damn, I’m really struggling.” After having discovered a tail growing out of my ass and having a constant pain in my legs and back I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to make it to the end of the project before something truly bad happened to me.

A sudden premonition struck me as I felt intune with the very ground I was standing on, I felt the ground shifting and buckling. But I didn’t see anything, at first. It dawned on me that things had slowed down and the terror struck home as I could see everything happening in slow motion. The first of the two big locomotives was leaning to the left as the ballast and earth works began to crumble.

Seeing the pending crisis I galloped towards them, but it felt like I was trying to run through Jell-0, my movements seemed slow and labored as the falling engines and cars were speeding up. Still, I pushed through with the mantra, “Go faster! Be faster!” I suddenly realized I was running on all fours, using my hands and doing an awkward gallop-like motion, but there was a little extra speed from that.

I arrived mere seconds before the falling train would land on top of them, quick as a whip I spin on my hands and deliver a powerful double hoof kick. My left hoof connected with Garret and the right one the female conductor, hurling them up and away from me. But Sir Issac Newton is a bitch, because the force used to eject them from the danger zone meant that I was pushed muzzle first down into the mud. Thus laying me out flat and unable to flee.

Time, having been painfully slow throughout the ordeal reasserted itself, sounds came roaring back and my eyes became locked in the upward position where I had a front row, 4d cinema experience as the second engine came crashing down on top of me.

The sound of crashing steel, screaming standerby’s, grinding of metal on metal drowned out my own scream of terror. Which changed to one of pain. My world ended in pain and darkness.

* * *

Inside the company section truck Ben’s phone had several new messages, unread:

Text message: Tyler 3:30 PM:

Hey man, it's all good. Look I’m going to be up in the mountains for a bit. I need to sort things out.

Discord message: Hazy/Allen 6:00 pm

Ben, we’re good friends right? I really need someone to talk to. Shit’s getting real man.

Text message: Tyler 6:45 pm:

I’m scared, Ben. Things are happening to me that I can’t explain, I could really use a friend right now.

Text message: Tyler 7:30 pm:

Where are you Ben?

Is… is everything ok?

Discord message: Hazy/Allen 9:00 pm

Please…. I really need you. Don’t ghost me.

Author's Note

It took me forever and a million excuses why I never finished it. But I did it!! I got it all finished off and I cannot be more proud of myself for getting this chapter completed. I also want to thank my friend Tyler who spurred me on to get this thing finished off/out.

Ch 2 Wrecking it

Ch 2 Wrecking it

“Hey, wake up sleepy head.” someone said, shaking my shoulder with some vigor.

“WHAT!?!” I squaked, flailing like a chicken who's just been plucked.

“It’s dinner time dude. I just got our food from the Roadmaster's truck.” I finally recognized the voice as being my good friend Garret from Austin, Texas.

“Oh, wait! You mean it’s already dinner time?! SHHIITT!” My tone filled with disbelief.

“Yeah man, you practically passed the hell out once we got to the derailment site. That was like three hours ago.” Garret said in a bit of good natured ribbing.

“I didn’t sleep all that well last night. The hellish nightmare I had was about a train crash that took place where I was the engineer and was a part of. Guess it was a premonition or something, still strange nonetheless. Also building all those track panels in the yard, getting them loaded and chained down to the railcars that were headed up to the wreck site took it out of me.” I yawn at the end of my explanation.

“Huh, well the boss decided to get lotaburger for everyone. I just hope you like diet coke.” he says, holding up the bag and drink.

I lean forward to grab it, only to get held back by the seat belt. I let out a chuckle.

“Damn, I forgot that I flipped on the seat belt lock so that I could rest my head on the strap and not get in trouble if someone moved the company truck.”

I unlock the seat belt buckle and then grab my food.

Garret just smirks at me and shakes his head. “You’ve learned to master the art of sleeping in section trucks haven’t you?”

“Well,” I twisted my neck, earning a satisfying pop, “ooofff, I can sleep in just about any position in these trucks, but my neck sure catches hell sometimes for doing so.”

“Eh, there’s been a decent amount of progress since this morning. The damaged rolling stock has already been craned off onto the wrecking train with those special flat cars. Unfortunately they are still struggling with the engines. It seems like the heavy wash really soaked the area nearest them making it harder to get the normal tracked cranes in. They just got the on track crane that BnB uses for their bridge work. I bet some time soon they’ll get those engines off the rails and be ready for us to get out there to connect the panels together.” Garret updated me, reporting what had been going on.

“Still sounds like a two or three hour wait until they get things squared away.” I say after a minute of silent sipping on my drink. I had already scarfed down my burger and fries during the update.

“They’re saying by 11:45 pm everything should be good to go. The welders already torch cut the rails, which is surprising considering they didn’t get anyone else out there to help.”

“I bet it’s because they are worried about having too many people on the ground with all of the other things going on. Wouldn't want get someone run over with a front end loader because they were in the way. Don't you think?” I replied in a more scholarly tone and manner. Playing on the inside joke that I was secretly upper management hiding in plain sight.

“Maybe, but once the rails got cut the machines started cleaning the mess and filling in the massive washout. Well at least what they could. So it looks like once the crane is freed from engine duties we’ll begin to transfer the track panels from the rail cars onto the newly made track bed. Then we can begin getting the tracks bolted up and back in service again.”

“Maybe I can salvage my shitty birthday weekend after all if things go according to plan.” I say with a tiny bit of hope in my voice.

“GODDAMNIT!!!! You just FUCKED US!!” Garret says in an irritated tone.

“Awww SHIT!!! I forgot the cardinal rule, don’t associate plans and going right with the railroad. Well I guess I just jinxed us. Damn, damn.” I shake my head wondering just how fucked we were going to be. It never failed, when someone would say things are going good or according to plan or being on schedule, something always happened to fuck it up. It was the "Murphy's Law" of the railroad and I had just invoked it.

“Well, I guess we could use the extra overtime pay, also sorry that you have to celebrate your birthday cleaning up a wreck. Not exactly the best way to spend it.”Garret said, his left hand rubbing behind his neck.

“Meh.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I mean I was probably only going to take myself out to a restaurant and spend it alone like normal. At least this year I am getting paid to have a shitty birthday.” I gave a halfhearted chuckle that wasn’t convincing anyone, least of all myself.

“That’s depressing man.”

I chuckled briefly before my shoulders sagged with a sigh. “Yeah, I know…”

“Well I’m going to try and get some sleep, 11:30 will be rolling around soon.” Garret says before facing the front of the truck and leaning the driver seat back a bit.

“We’ve got like 3 hours, more than enough time for a decent nap.” I say as I too lay back in my seat, forgoing the seatbelt.

* * *

I fell into a fitful sleep, it was like laying in bed and having your eyes closed. I wasn't exactly awake, but certainly not asleep either. I was caught in that god-awful middle ground of inbetween forgetting the world existed and still being able to cognitively think.

Time was passing by but it was nearly impossible to determine how quickly it was moving in this current state. After some unknown and unspecified length had passed I finally felt myself getting closer to sleeping.

My brain was beginning to go back to that bizarre dream of the pony involved in the train crash. I vaguely hear a sound marking the half hour.

_ _ _ _ _

“...what did you do to her…”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll be joining her…”

“For five score, divided by four...”

_ _ _ _ _

I lurch forward slamming my head into the backseat of the front passenger and falling to the floor of the truck. “Fuck.” I mutter as I grab my head with my hands. Suddenly my thighs are itching a little and I scratch them, nothing feels off. But it’s got me puzzled as to why they are bothering me.

I sit back up and get on my orange reflective vest, clear safety glasses and hard hard before opening the door and clambering down the truck, making a b-line for the port-o-shitters on the job site. The blue room isn’t the nicest smelling place and is very poorly lit, meaning that they cheaped out on the good port-a-potties. Regardless, I open the door and enter the blue room. Once inside I close the door and lock it, I pull down my pants and struggle to see anything using only the light from the massive portable lights outside.

After struggling to see anything for a few minutes just using the dim light pouring into the blue I pull out my cell phone and I turn on my phone’s flashlight. Having revealed what was on my thighs I freeze at the sight that greets my eyes. “Oh, well isn’t that a barrel of laughs.” I say as I stare at the cutie mark emblazoned on my thighs. It was a driving wheel of a steam engine with a steam cylinder half covering it.

I trace the cutie mark with the tip of my finger and a name suddenly comes to mind, “Iron Horse”, I say quietly under my breath. That name sounds vaguely familiar to me for some reason and yet I am struggling to put the pieces together as to why that is. I shake my head trying to reign in my brain, after all, this wasn’t time to ponder what made the name sound familiar. Right now wasn’t the time to have a mild freak out, yeah that seemed about right.

I pull my pants back up and sit heavily on the closed toilet lid, leaning my head against the back wall. My breathing is slow but shallow as I avoid trying to inhale the smell from the waste I’m literally sitting on top of. My left hand covers my mouth and a little of my nose to help mitigate some of the smell. I start drumming on the top of the tank with my right hand in a slow and steady beat. This was my nervous habit and I was pretty anxious about this whole thing, because I knew I didn’t have those marks on my thighs earlier in the day. Hell, I know I didn’t have them this morning and I know for a fact that there was no way someone was able to ink something like that on me without me noticing.

“I’m fucked.” I mutter under my breath. I slowly stand to my feet and open the door to the shitter, looking to make my way back towards the section truck. That’s when the road master pulled the bull horn and began calling out for everyone to gather around him. “Well, I guess I won’t get much time to worry about a cutie mark on my ass for a good long while now.”

* * *

The work briefing lasted about thirty minutes as he laid out our protection, the weather conditions, hazards and even the work plan for each team. Once he spelled everything out, he began to hand down the work assignments. Garret, myself and our foreman Mr. Morrison got assigned the task of hooking up the chains to move the panels and then bolting them up after getting them aligned. It wasn’t the most exciting job, but considering we didn’t have a lot of additional guys who could help spread the load. Once the meeting ended, me and the guys working with the section truck loaded into the cab.

* * *

The section truck lurches as we head to the nearest crossing to set the truck on the track. Setting the hyrail truck on the rails means we won’t run the risk of getting it stuck in the still soaked ground near where the track work is taking place.

We come to a medium sized crossing and Garret pulls parallel to the track where Mr. Morrison and I get out to help line up the hyrail wheels to the track. It only took about two forward and backward moves to get the rear wheels lined up. Mr. Morrison pushes the lever to lower the wheels on the track, I do the same thing for the front hyrail wheels but have to stop just above the crossing planks because the truck is not 100% lined up. Once the back end is on the rails, I signal him to back up and turn the wheel to the right. He backs up slowly and once the wheels are lined up I stop him and lower the front hyrail wheels onto the track. The front wheels are lifted off the ground and above the rail, unlike the rear wheels that just sit on top of the rail head.

Once we completed setting the truck on I get on the rear platform of the section truck and ride point. All the way back to the washout I am giving hand signals to let Garret know that he’s clear and to keep backing up toward where everyone is waiting.

As we approach the nearest guy on the ground I place my hand on the handrail and give control of the move to him. He’s on the ground and has a better idea where the truck should be staged. It was at this moment that my brain decided to think back to my…..MY….cutie mark(?!) on my flank. No brain, it's thighs, flanks are on ponies and horses. Fucking train derailment and sleep deprivation really have my head head awash with muddled thoughts.

“That’ll do!” I hear the voice of the guy on the ground say as he waves his hand in a stop motion.

I shake my head at the crazy thought that passed through my head, I just write it off as watching way too many pony episodes and reading waaayyyy too many stories on fimfiction that might or might not have a lot of plot in them. I walk further into the bed of the section truck and come to a top storage compartment, lifting the lid. I grab out the tag lines and chains with hooks for the track panel moves.

I walk over to the side of the truck and throw them towards the ground, not wanting to try and hand down heavy, bulky chains that could injure someone if they lost their grasp. Once this is complete I make my way back to the end of the truck and climb off the steps. I see Garret is already getting some of the chains gathered up in his hands, I follow suit grabbing the other set along with the tagline.

The flood lights and headlights are making some rather strange shadows causing a little bit of an issue with regards to walking and climbing up the other main track ballast line.

“Did you want to get on top of the stack of track panels or did you want me to do it?” I say, directing my question to Garret.

“I’ll get this car load of panels if you’ll get the next carload.” Garret says in a good hearted nature.

He drops the chains on the ground next to the rail car and begins to climb up on top of the five high stack of track panels, once at the top I begin to hand him up the chains. The chains are wrapped around both rails on either end giving it four points of connection to distribute the weight evenly. The on-track crane’s boom and tackle lower to nearly the center of the panel where Garret hooks up the single master link connecting the chains to the lifting hook.

With a steady hand the crane operator eases the levers back and pulls the slack out of the chains until there’s just enough pressure to pull them taught but not lift the panel. Garret does one final inspection before he climbs down from the panel. At which point Mr. Morrison takes point and is in charge of directing the operator on the move and being point man for it.

Garret and I make our way over to the end of the track that the section truck is sitting on, being sure to stay away from the moving panel in the sky.

“Well, it’s about 12:45 and we’re just now getting to put one track panel down.” Garret says.

“I just hope all goes well and the weather stays at bay.” I say not really focused on anything.

“Dude, you just can’t keep from screwing us can you?” Garret says with mock offense in his voice.

“What?” I reply with a little agitation in my voice.

“You just said you wanted the weather to stay nice, although being cold isn’t awful I think you just jinxed us again.” He says as the sound of pittering comes from water hitting the metal of the section truck.

“Goddamnit, me and my fucking mouth.” I mutter as the rain begins to pick up all around us.

The track panel is quickly put into the vacancy where the old track used to be. It was at that moment there was a brilliant streak of lightning and a thunderous boom that caught everyone off guard.

“Get into the trucks!!” Boomed the roadmaster as everyone began scrambling to get off the tracks and into safety.

Pouring rain, hurricane and tornado conditions aren’t a cause alone to stop working as per our rule book, but we can’t exactly work with lighting in the area. This was fine by me, as I don’t exactly like being soaked to the bone and having to work in miserably cold rain. Unfortunately, it meant that this was going to take even longer to get the track back in service and I realized time wasn’t on my side.

Author's Note

For those curious what Ben's/Iron Cutie mark is loosely based on HERE is the link for it.

Also, my good friend and I working on the story/events that led up to this story that took place in Equestria! So please go and read Tales of the Rails: Pacesetter's Story. I promise you it's well worth a read and in there you will better understand the characters in this story.

The funny thing is that I came up with the idea for 5S/4 and said, "Hey, I'm basing this pony after you and I wanted to know how you would react to certain things. Would you be willing to help me out when I get that pony in my story?" He was all like, "Heck yeah man." So over the next several days he bombarded me with thoughts, ideas and suggestions for the character. Which, honestly was awesome because I struggle to come up with backstories for my characters and he was adding way more detail and depth then I had. The character was still very early in it's development, barely getting to the name to be honest. At any rate, he was like, "Man, we need to write a story about their time on the railroad and how they came to be." To which I said, "Well, if you want that to happen you're going to have to write it yourself because I'm already writing up this story."

That, my readers was all it took and before I knew it, I was sucked into his world building and character development as he planned for his story half. (I'll be honest, I got so wrapped up in it that I spent a whole week writing a scene that he might or might not use in his story.) I do hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I am sorry for the long note here.