It was a cold evening despite the sun only just dipping beneath the mountainous horizon. The wind flowed gently across the trees, birds chittered as they settled into their nests, and even crickets were turning in for the night. This lack of sound allowed a new sound to make itself known.
Chuff-Chuff-Chuff-Chuff-Chuff-Chuff-Chuff-Chuff
A signature chuffing noise emitted from a large metal machine as it traveled down steel rails, clanking and squeaking with every wheel turn.
Two small wheels lead eight large wheels connected by a complex mechanism of rods and bearings, which lead eight more wheels with the same mechanism, trailed by two wheels exactly like those in the front. Under its cab windows was the number 4000.
Just behind this mighty steam locomotive was a large black tender. Christened on its sides were the words SOUTHERN PACIFIC. Coal was piled only to half capacity, the water even less so.
Behind the locomotive was a long, heavy train of black hopper cars, each piled high with Trona - a non-marine evaporite mineral, mined as a source of Sodium Carbonate and sometimes used in fertilizer.
With a single caboose trailing at the back, the entire train weighed close to 5000 tons.
The monster of a train slowly hauled itself up the steep and twisty track, crossing bridges and passing through tunnels before finally diverting into a yard, slowing to a stop near a small station. The train’s crew, an engineer, fireman, brakeman, and conductor, stepped off, exchanging formalities with the yardmaster before heading into the station for some food and a well-deserved rest.
The brakeman hung back, performing routine checks to make sure the train stayed in place. Testing the air brakes, locking the regulator shut, and most importantly, tying down the handbrakes. He engaged the locomotive’s independent brake alongside a number of handbrakes on the freight cars. After making sure there was plenty coal in the firebox to keep the fire running,
The plan was to leave the locomotive “running” throughout the night, allowing the crew to wake up to a train that was ready-to-go, thus saving time and money. While this wasn’t exactly routine, there were no rules against it.
This was where existing problems began to create newer, larger problems.
The locomotive, a Harriman Common Standard MC-1, was a rather poor steamer. Its articulated components tended to leak steam, thus harming performance. This, of course, was no issue when the locomotive was sitting still, using zero steam, as long as the fire was kept nice and hot.
However, since the brakeman had not been trained on steam locomotive firing and was unfamiliar with how a firebox worked, he “overfilled” the firebox with coal, incorrectly thinking it would let the fire burn hotter and last longer.
This had the opposite effect, however, as less oxygen was able to enter the firebox, which would cause the fire temperature to drop significantly. The lack of oxygen could have been rectified by engaging the “blower”, which was a device that creates a draught through the boiler that allows more oxygen to enter the firebox, increasing the fire temperature. Unfortunately, this device was not engaged.
Mere minutes after the brakeman had left, the fire temperature dropped lower and lower, decreasing in size until it ceased altogether.
With no fire to heat the water, no steam was generated, causing the boiler pressure to slowly drop as minutes ticked into hours. Theoretically, this would be trivial, only causing the crew to be rather annoyed at their lack of a ready-to-go train in the morning.
That is, until one remembers the air compressor.
This loud cylindrical object was the one and only way of supplying air to the brakes. Airbrakes, as they were called, worked via pressurized air filling up brake pipes, allowing the brakes to be released. When pressure drops, air reserves in the cars would close the piping and force the brakes on, stopping the train.
The compressor ran off of the steam from the locomotive, being more effective the higher the steam pressure was.
It also becomes less effective the lower the steam pressure is.
As the steam pressure dropped from 200PSI to 100, then to 50, even 25, the compressor wasn’t able to effectively supply air, stopping altogether when the boiler pressure was completely gone.
With no new air being supplied to the brakes, the main air reservoirs were slowly being depleted throughout the length of the train.
Worse still was that the brakeman hadn’t set enough handbrakes to hold the train, having forgotten about the slight downhill stretch of track the train was parked on.
Finally, at 12:56AM, both the air brakes and hand brakes couldn’t hold the train any longer, and it very slowly began to roll down the grade, breaking a track switch and forcing its way back onto the main line.
The only person who had been awake to see the train was the conductor, who had woken up to the quiet whirring of brakes. He had only managed to catch a glimpse of his caboose before it disappeared from view.
The train began accelerating down the steep track, traveling faster and faster as it careened through the twists and turns of the mountain track. The locomotive’s wheels and gearing spun faster than they had ever spun before, becoming a blur as it violently shook, almost to the point of catastrophic failure.
Amazingly, despite the lack of a headlight, no fire, no way for anyone to know of the runaway, the train sailed past two other trains traveling in the opposite direction, one of them a passenger train.
The train almost looked as if it would roll all the way down the mountain and stop somewhere in a field, safe and sound, if a little worn.
This was not to be, for the train tore into a tunnel at high speed. More and more freight cars raced into the tunnel until it finally ended with the caboose, the sound of screeching metal still echoing from within. While most would expect the train to come rattling out the other end, such a sight would not come.
The train, despite its size, weight, and length, had disappeared in the tunnel, never to come out again.
I let out a sigh as I followed a set train tracks. I was on the Northeast side of the Canterhorn Mountain - so not the side with Canterlot on it - so the track was steep, twisty, and treacherous.
I passed over bridges, flew through tunnels, and meandered around bends. But as I came out of a tunnel, I stopped, noticing a new sound that made itself known in the air.
The sound was very faint. So faint I was surprised I heard it at all. It sounded like the screeching of brakes.
“There isn’t another train scheduled on this line for half an hour,” I said, noting the time on my watch. 1:07AM.
I lowered myself to track-level, continuing forward as I listened to the sound get louder and louder. Being experienced with the Doppler Effect, I could tell that whatever was making the sound was getting closer.
Suddenly, just as I was rounding a corner, a giant steam locomotive came thundering from around the cliff wall.
"AHHH!" I screamed as I dove out of the way, feeling the cowcatcher graze my tail.
The sound was infernal. So infernal I had to cover my ears. Turning around, I saw a plethora of sparks emitting from the locomotive’s gearing and several of the freight cars behind it. I quickly shook my head and tore after the engine.
There was no fire in the cab, the headlight wasn’t on, and none of the gauges were working. I watched as the gearing spun at rattling speeds, threatening to snap apart at any moment.
Landing in the cab and seeing that nopony was aboard, my first instinct was to slam the brakes into emergency. To my surprise, they didn’t do a thing. I tried blowing the whistle. Not a sound.
“Ohhh crap,”
I was suddenly thrown off balance as the train rattled around a corner. I slammed into the cab wall with a resounding THUNK and was stuck until the corner ended.
“What the heck happened to this train?!” I yelled as I jumped to my hooves.
I flew out of the cab and went along the length of the train, eyes wide as I saw the sheer size of it. It was close to a hundred trona-filled cars, finally ending with a single red caboose at the end with nopony in it.
I landed on the caboose and grabbed the brake. It took every ounce of strength in me to turn it as it grinded against an old bearing. The brakes came on hard, slamming the caboose backwards and stretching the coupling.
I was suddenly thrown off the caboose as the train went through another sharp corner. I quickly extended my wings and performed a record-breaking recovery, then tore after the train.
As I flew back towards the engine, I noticed a town a few miles ahead, at the bottom of the mountain. I knew the town of Detrot, was there, since I had just come from it.
Upon remembering the sharp elevated curve just before the Detrot Railyard, I began to panic.
I landed back in the cab and did everything I could to try and slow the train. Reversed the throttle; which didn’t do a thing since there was no steam pressure, tried the emergency brakes again, broke the air hoses, I tried everything.
Nothing worked.
“SHOOT!”
I took off towards Detrot, inadvertently performing a sonic rainboom in my adrenaline-filled flight. As I neared the town, I saw that there was a passenger train parked in the station platform. The engine was smaller, but it had a whistle. The perfect warning device.
I dove for the train, nearly slamming into the engineer as I landed in the cab.
“What the heck are you doing here, lady?!” the engineer exclaimed as I grabbed the whistle cord.
“Runaway train coming straight for us!” I yelled back. Before the engineer could reply, I yanked on the cord, letting the whistle scream. I blew it long and loud, hitting every tone the six-chime had.
“LADY!” the engineer snapped, yanking my hoof away from the cord. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you need to get out of here right now.”
“Did you not hear me?!” I yelled back. “There’s a runaway train!”
“Uhuh. And I’m the Duke of Equestria. If there really is a runaway train, where is it?”
Me and the engineer locked eyes, not saying a word. In seconds, the infernal sound of screaming metal made itself known, causing my ears to flatten.
The engineer and firemare heard it too, as they quickly leaned out the windows of the engine. I did the same.
There, a mere three hundred meters away, was the fastest, heaviest coal train we had ever seen, barreling right toward us.
“Oh my- LORD!”
“RUUUN!”
The engineer threw the engine into reverse. The wheels grinded against the rails as the train slowly shoved itself backwards, the couplings cracking as they were compressed. I could do nothing but fly up and watch the runaway get closer and closer to the elevated curve, as well as the number of houses next to it.
It was right there that I lost all hope.
CRASH!!!
The train left the rails and tumbled down the embankment, plowing through houses like nothing. The Trona spilled everywhere, covering what wasn’t crushed like a sandstorm.
Literally every car had jumped the tracks, piling into each other like an accordion. One car was even launched into the air, landing on a house and plowing into another. Even a swimming pool was no match for the train.
Finally, after the caboose came off the rails, remaining upright, everything stopped.
I vaguely remember hearing the passenger train stop as I lowered myself to the ground. I could barely move as I surveyed the area, staring at each destroyed building, pausing whenever I saw signs of life within a house.
It was sheer… bedlam. Mangled metal and Trona everywhere, it looked like the worst tornado had swept through. That’s the only way I can describe it.
I did this.
A sharp pain snapped through my heart as the thought went through.
I had done this. I had failed to stop the train in time. Icaused ponies to die.
I wasn’t good enough.
I wanted to say I wasn’t the only one who could have stopped it, but I couldn’t. I was the only being that found the train. It was all on me for not stopping or at least bringing the train to even a safe-ish speed.
I was a murderer.
I woke up on a couch, exhausted. I slowly sat up and looked around at the small apartment we had rented for our stay in Detrot. I stopped suddenly, looking at the kitchen several feet away. At the stove, I saw my best friend Fleetfoot.
“Oh for-... Ahem. Morning,” I greeted.
“Morning, Spitfire,” she replied, turning around with a pan of steaming eggs. “Scrambled eggs?”
“I’d love some.” I sighed, rubbing my head. “You are not going to believe the dream I just had.”
“Really? What was it?”
“It was… crazy. I was following the nearby train tracks, then this giant out-of-control train came speeding by with this… infernal noise. I tried everything to get it to stop. Slammed it into emergency, broke the air hoses, everything. It went all the way into Detrot where it derailed. Man, you should have seen it. It was so real! But so terrifying! But also pretty cool in hindsight. It was…”
I trailed off as I looked up at Fleetfoot, whose face was pale and her eyes the size of a hoof.
“Uh…” I slowly stammered.
My colleague quickly shook her head before grabbing a plate.
“Spitfire…”
My ears flattened. “That wasn’t a dream… was it?”
Fleetfoot sighed as she picked up the dished-up plate and handed it to me. “Let’s eat. Then we can check it out.”
“Looks… exactly the way it did last night,” I slowly said as we approached the wreck. There were way more details visible now that the sun was out.
Rescue ponies were everywhere, with more arriving via train. Earth Ponies did their best to clear the spilled Trona, as did the unicorns, and Pegasi brought in supplies.
I sighed. “I could have prevented this.”
“Could you though?” Fleetfoot asked. “By what you said, there was nothing you could do.”
“What if there was something I could’ve done? I don’t know trains! There might’ve been some emergency brake I didn’t know about.”
“You literally said you threw it into emergency.”
I groaned.
Fleetfoot grimaced as she saw two corpses pulled out from underneath a hopper. “They say the body count is up to… twelve?”
She trailed off, noticing my eyes darting around the scene. She looked back, trying to see if she could spot my target.
“Uh… What is it?” she asked as we descended to a workpony.
“Where’s the locomotive?” I asked.
“Locomotive?” the pony asked back, glancing at me. “What locomotive?”
“There was an engine on the front when it derailed.”
“Most witnesses say they never saw an engine leave the rails. It was only hoppers.”
“Uh-... What!?”
“Maybe it got buried,” Fleetfoot suggested.
“No way,” I replied. “It was way too big to have gotten buried, no matter how many cars.”
Me and Fleetfoot began helping to clear up the Trona, but mostly to try and find the engine. Alas, nothing. Nopony could find the smokebox or cabin of the engine.
Then, after an hour, as we were picking through the mangled carcass of a hopper…
“Is it stupid to think it might have stayed on the rails?”
I looked at Fleetfoot like she had just screamed bloody murder.
“Excuse me?”
“Think about it,” she began. “When you load a hopper to the brim with something; Trona, in this case, wouldn’t the center of mass be stupid high? Say, higher than the engine? Meaning they would derail easier?”
“...Fleetfoot, that-” I inhaled. “That train was going way too fast. The engine had to have jumped the track.”
“But is it really out of the question that the engine kept going? Maybe it stopped or derailed further up the line!”
“...”
“Can we at least check?”
I sighed. “Fine.”
We flew up and away from the crash site, maneuvering until we were following the train tracks like an iron compass. We flew for miles, passing two trains before stopping and turning back.
“See? What did I tell you?” I asked. “It would have stopped by then. Or we would have seen some rescue…”
Fleetfoot looked at me as I trailed off. “What is it?”
I pointed down at an extra track that went into the nearby forest. “Where does that track go?”
“...Oh! That’s the Foaledo Branch. Maybe it’s down there.”
I sighed and banked to the right, flying just above the track with Fleetfoot following suit.
FoooOO! FOOO!
We quickly dove out of the way as a rescue train came barreling by. Once the last car passed, we…
…didn’t continue.
Instead, we both noticed a track switch beneath us. We looked down the new track, but were momentarily disappointed when we saw it end a mere hundred feet from the switch. It didn’t even have a set of buffers!
“Who would be that stupid?” I asked, annoyed at the lack of the buffers. “A train could easily run right-...”
We looked at each other.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yep.”
Grins on our faces, we took off to the end of the line. We were quick to see deep markings occur just past the rails. Flying along the trail of destruction, we counted how many feet was between the rail and the point of stopping.
50
100
150
200
250
300
Finally, we stopped.
There, sitting at the edge of a pond, was the steam locomotive. Its front end was smashed, its boiler was dented, its paint was marred, dirt matted its valve gear, but it was still intact. It looked like it could steam and pull itself back onto the rails.
“Whoever built this bad boy must have really known what they were doing,” I remarked.
“Yeah… Wow this thing is huge.”
I sighed. “Big engine for a big train.”
Fleetfoot looked at me as I landed on the ground. “You alright?”
“I’m just… I still can’t believe that I ruined my chance to stop the thing, is all.”
“I- Well…” She sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say. Here, let’s go tell everypony that we found the engine. We can get to the bottom of why the train ran away in the first place.”
I sat silent for a moment, staring down the locomotive. I didn’t speak, nor did I move.
“Spitfire?” Fleetfoot asked.
It was a moment later when I finally uttered a few words.
“Why did you do it?”
“The derailment’s final death toll was 49. The damage was so severe that the town couldn’t afford to rebuild a single destroyed building, instead cleaning up the mess and using the funds gained from Princess Celestia to improve other parts of town.”
“The locomotive was found to be badly designed. Several leaks in the articulation allowed steam to escape, lowering the brake pressure as the night went on. At least, that’s the theory. The accident was deemed to have been caused by equine error, but nopony knows who the heck caused it. What they do know is that the engine, two hoppers, and the caboose were the only pieces of rolling stock that were salvageable. Everything else was destroyed.”
“While derailments usually bring new polices, rules, and guidelines to railroading, therefore allowing some good to come out of them, this wreck didn’t do, well, anything. Nothing changed. There were too many unknown factors as to what really caused the wreck. All it did was take lives and destroy a chunk of a town. What kinds of new policies could we implement as a result of this specific wreck?”
Spitfire stared at the stallion sitting a few feet away, awaiting a response.
“Do you still blame yourself for the accident?” the stallion asked.
Spitfire sighed. “Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. Depends on my mood. Even now, I don’t know if there was a chance of me stopping the train. Maybe if I had thrown the hoofbrakes on the cars it would have slowed it enough. But… I don’t know.”
The pony nodded. “And uhh, why did you ask the engine that question? 'Why it did what'?”
“I guess I just thought the engine was somehow sentient. That it might’ve done this itself. Which is stupid since we do have a sentient engine in Equestria now.”
“Alright… Do you think the wreck has affected your foreseeable future? What is your plan?”
“...Forget, I guess. I have a journal. It’s already in writing. Heck, I might write down this whole interview. After that, there’s no point in me remembering it. I just want to forget and get back to a normal life.”
The stallion nodded. “Do you think that’s enough?”
“Y-... Yeah. Y-Yeah, I think that’s enough. I think I’ve said all that needs to be said.”
“Alright.” The stallion stood up, prompting Spitfire to do the same.
“Thank you, Spitfire, for accepting this interview and allowing us to hear your side of the story. The public has been interested ever since the rumors came about.”
Spitfire nodded as she shook hooves with the stallion. “You’re welcome. I’m just glad to get this off my chest.”
“Mm.”
The two made their way to the exit, the stallion opening the door for the fiery pegasus.
“It is alright if I write this interview down in a journal, right?” Spitfire asked.
“If you’d like. It’ll likely be on public record.”
Spitfire nodded. “Got it. Have a nice day."
"You too."
Spitfire stared at the hallway, hesitating for several seconds before finally leaving the office. The stallion then courteously closed the door behind her.
Author's Note
Good Golly Miss Molly this was a chore and a half to write with a ruined sleep schedule, as you can see via the publishing dates on these chapters.
I haven't put any story, chapter, nothing out for weeks, so I'm just glad to have finally published something.
Anyway, I hope you liked this. I need to get some sleep.
