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          Tall Tales from Tall Tale: Darkest Day           
                 -by bucking bronco 1968-                  
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                  Unable To Be Forgotten                   
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Unable To Be Forgotten
I groaned softly to myself as I flipped through the papers on my new desk. I knew that I would have to get used to this eventually, but looking through the rows and rows of numbers, trying to understand them all, always gave me a headache.
I was happy I had only agreed to help deal with all this for half a day a week, I was not ready to give up '66's throttle for a quill yet.
As I let out a long sigh and leaned back in my chair, just to be away from the paperwork, I took note of hoofsteps coming down the hall towards my office door. As I turned towards the door, it opened up to reveal a very familiar face.
"Hey dad."
It was my now 15 year old son Hotbox.
"Well well, this is a bit of a surprise. What are you doing out of school already?"
He just cracked a smirk, "Half day today, so I thought I'd come see what you were up to. Didn't expect Uncle Dusty to tell me you were in your office doing paperwork. Or that you had an office. Or did paperwork."
Both my kids had grown up calling Coal Dust uncle. They were well aware that Dusty wasn't actually related to them, but he was so close to the family and often acted like an uncle for them it had just stuck.
I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "Of course Dusty sold me out. And I'm not surprised that you're surprised, this is a bit of a new thing. I'm going to have to take over running the railroad some day, and I can't do that if I don't know how to do all this paperwork. No matter how much I hate it."
"Oh come on, it can't be that bad!" I just smirked at him and passed over one of the rolling stock expense reports.
He looked it over before recoiling back a bit, "Sheesh, yeah never mind, that seems like the math problem from Tartarus."
We both smiled before letting out a laugh. Though it wouldn't have mattered, both my son's were basically copies of me, so we all had a very close bond.
I looked back at him and smiled, with him smiling back.
And then, the whole office shook and the area around us was rocked with an explosion.
My head whipped around to the window of my office, which looked out over most of the yard, the roundhouses, and the backshops. And then the world seemed to freeze around me.
I looked back at him and smiled, with him smiling back.
And then, the whole office shook and the area around us was rocked with an explosion.
"What the hell was that?" I yelled in confusion as I looked around and tried to figure out what was going on.
"Dad what was…" I started to ask when I turned around to look at my dad, and saw he was frozen.
"Dad? Dad? Dad are you alright? What's going on?" I asked, trying to get his attention, but it was like he couldn't even hear me. He was staring straight out the window of the office, I couldn't even tell if he was blinking.
I had never seen him act like this. "Dad? Are you alright?"
Still, nothing, not a twitch.
"Dad, you're starting to scare me." I was starting to get really worried about him. Not knowing what else to do, I looked out the window to see if that would explain something.
My eyes went wide in shock, "Oh dear sweet Faust."
I was staring down into a disaster zone.
The window of the office looked down over the yard and at the roundhouses. Currently every pony in the area was sprinting towards the back shops, who's eastern corner had partially collapsed and had been engulfed in a massive fireball.
"Holy shit the back shops exploded! Come on dad, we gotta help!" I shouted as I turned and sprinted for the door.
But as I made it to the hallway, I turned around to see my dad still frozen, staring out the window. "Dad! Dad come on! We have to go help them!"
"Stooooookes!" I turned my head to see Uncle Dusty galloping as fast as he could towards the office, coming to a skidding stop in front of me, "Boxer? What are you doing here? Nevermind, where's your dad?"
I pointed into the office, "He's right there, but he hasn't moved since the explosion. He just keeps staring out the window, like he's frozen or something."
Dusty's face dropped into a hallowed frown, as he muttered under his breath, "Oh no… I thought he had worked through this…"
"Worked through what?"
Dusty jumped, as if he had completely forgotten I was standing right next to him. "It's… it's complicated bud. You're dad'll be fine, just, just do me a favor and get your mom for us, alright?"
"I've never seen him like this Dusty…."
"I have a time or two. Just get Temper for me. Please."
I frowned a bit, feeling left out of the loop, but sighed and gave a nod. "Alright, but I expect an explanation when I get back." I said, before I turned and ran down the hall in a bee-line for my house, not giving Dusty time to argue.
It had been hours, the flames that had overtaken the backshops had finally been beaten down. While a portion of the roof and rear wall had collapsed, and the majority of the shop interior had been gutted by the fire, the main roundhouse had survived and the locomotives that had been in the back during the fire were mostly salvageable.
The sun had gone down long ago, and clearing of the rubble was being carried out under the cover of flatcar mounted spotlights. I was gathered in the meeting room flanked by Dusty and Heat Temper, along with Spotlight, Big Red, and Bulkhead Jr.
"Are you sure you're fine now Stokes?"
"I told you Spot, I'm fine now. Let's worry about what happened. Any incite into what the cause was yet?"
Bulk grabbed a folder that was in his bag next to him, placing it on the table before starting to flip through it. "From what we have gathered after talking with everyone, they had been lifting a boiler off a mountain type frame, and one of the chains snapped. When the chain swung back, it severed the hydraulic lines of the crane and sent hot fluid all over the shop. Some got near a lit set of torches and everything went up. Flames spread too quick for the sprinkler systems to contain. The explosion was just a byproduct of the fire, the stored acetylene tanks overheated and went up."
"Wait a second." Red cut in when Bulk had finished, "We just bought new chains for all the cranes last year. The other ones were eight years old and they still worked fine. How could these ones already be snapping?"
"That, we still don't know. We're working on it, but if I had to guess, there was probably a manufacturing defect in one of the chain links. It's the only reason I can think of as to why a chain lifting a boiler less than half its max capacity would snap like that."
"I think that's the least of our worries gentlestallions." I said finally, pulling all attention back to me.
"What do you mean Stokes?" Bulk Jr. asked.
"You still haven't mentioned the one thing I'm worried most about, how many shop workers did we lose?"
The other three owners looked at each other for a moment before turning back to me, before Spotlight spoke, "No one told you yet?"
"Told me what?"
"All the emergency and evacuation protocols worked exactly the way we wanted them to. We're still waiting to hear about a few in critical condition, but we do know, they'll pull through."
I had to sit back in surprise, "Wait, are you saying…"
"few dozen burns and some other marks from when the chain snapped, but everyone who was in the back, got out." Bulk finished.
I sat there stunned for a few moments before I smiled softly and tears began to fill my eyes. "They all got out… they all got out." I said with a smile as tears began running down my face.
I sat there for a few moments to let that fact sink in before I spoke again, "That's all I wanted to hear." I then stood up and motioned for Dusty and Heat Temper to do the same, wiping my face clean. "I'm really sorry I couldn't be much help today guys, and I'm sorry I'm kinda cutting out of here early."
The other owners laughed. "Stokes, it's almost one in the morning, your shift ended five hours ago. Go home, get some sleep. Think you'll be alright to help move equipment around for the clean up tomorrow?" Spot finally managed to get out.
I chuckled, "Guys come on, I'll be right as rain come morning. I'll see you in a bit."
"Night Stokes."
The three of us then exited the conference room, and Red Hot gave me a kiss on the cheek, "I thought I told you to stop scaring me like that."
"I'm trying not to, I never expected to see the shop go up like that again. I'm just glad you have Fridays off and weren't down there yourself."
"Hate to cut in you two, but you still have one last thing to deal with." Dusty said, before directing our attention to my son Hotbox.
If there was one thing I could say that was a downside about my sons being copies of me, was that they inherited my stubbornness for getting an answer to something. I sighed, "You know, I should have seen this coming honestly. Red, go home and get some sleep, I'll be home in a bit."
"Come on Stokes, it's late, this can wait till morning."
"No no it's alright, he's been patient enough to wait this long, he deserves his answer."
"Thanks Dad." Boxer said with a smile as I put my arm around his shoulders and led him back to my office.
I sat him down on the other side of my desk with a sigh, "I know how you are Boxer, you don't like me pulling punches with my stories, and while I can respect that and do, because of that there are stories that I wait to tell until I feel you're old enough. This is one of those stories, and if it wasn't for today, you probably still wouldn't hear it for a few more years. It details the darkest day for the railroad I've ever personally experienced."
To give my son credit where credit's due, he was smart enough to show a little fear. "That bad huh?"
"Well you remember how your grandfather's accident was one of only two fatal accidents for that decade of the railway?"
"To a degree yes."
"This story takes place during the other incident. It was one of the deadliest accidents in the railway's history. Are you sure you want me to tell this straight? There's no shame in saying no."
And once again, to give Hotbox credit, he sat there and seriously considered what I was implying. He thought about it for a few minutes before he took a deep breath, "Reality isn't pretty right? And one of these days I'm gonna have to face the reality behind the fantasy of railroading right?"
Hearing that nearly brought a fresh tear to my eye, he was my son alright. I reached down to a drawer in my desk and pulled it open, retrieving a bottle of whiskey Spotlight gave me for my last anniversary on the railroad. "On the rocks or straight?"
I had to hold in a laugh at the look my son gave me.
"Oh come on, who do you think taught all your friends dad's their tricks? And while I don't check it often, I do still notice when a full bottle of my favorite goes missing."
I couldn't hold in the laugh when he rubbed the back of his neck, "I honestly couldn't believe I got away with that one."
I chuckled for a little longer before I set out the two glasses I had. "Don't worry, we'll keep this our little secret from your mother. So, straight or on the rocks?"
He gave a little smile back at me, "On the rocks, always tastes better cold."
"I raised you well." I said as I put ice in both glasses before filling them up.
"Where the hell did you get the ice from?"
"Fridge in the break room gave out, I've had a cooler in my desk for the last two weeks."
"Why not just fix the fridge?"
"Part's on backorder."
"Touché."
The two of us laughed and clinked glasses before taking sips, I was impressed, he only coughed twice. "Alright, I've stalled enough, let me set the scene for you."
It was 1245, me and Dusty had just passed crew training, and had been driving 9366 for maybe a month at this point. The Dragon Tooth River Bridge was under inspection, so The Olde Grade was shut down for the day. Since HG10's only ran The Grade, we basically had the day off. But we decided to be of assistance to the backshops since they were pretty backed up. At the time we were helping shunt cars and locomotives around the shop and staging tracks. Little did we know the course of events that would go on to play out that day.
The backshops were filled to capacity and a buzz with activity. All five of the five year inspection bays at the left of the shop were filled, the locomotive bays were packed from rail end chocks to bay door, and the railcar shed looked more like an extension of the shunting yards outside. Equipment was hammering away at all corners of the shop, and sparks from torches and grinders alike filled the air.
From his office sitting high above the center of it all, Rod Bearing watched over this organized chaos while trying to keep the shops from getting deadlocked and rolling stock out on the road. As he was sorting through the raw material order forms, his second in command, Flap Disk, came up to the office.
"Rod we got a problem."
Rod Bearing groaned, "Damnit Flap you've said that the last seven times you've come up here, what could it be this time?"
"Drop Arm is complaining that his crane feels like it's sticking along the rails."
Rod Bearing groaned again. Drop Arm's crane was the main three hundred ton shop crane they used in the five year inspection area. It was the only way they had of lifting engine boilers during tear down and rebuild, and just that day they needed said crane to carry out two such lifts.
"Ghrrr…. Damn it, of course it was his crane that had to develop problems, I've got them setting up to lift the boiler for that Big Six right now. I was hoping to have that ready for steaming trials at the end of the week…." Rod mumbled to himself as he turned to look out his office towards the five year area.
He looked on for a moment as some of his workers were preparing the large freight locomotive boiler to be lifted off the flatcar it was on and back onto the engine's frame while he thought.
Eventually, he turned back to Flap Disk, "Fill out a maintenance order for the crane, I can have the night shift look it over, they won't be needing it anyway. Push off the lift of #784's boiler. It's just an old mountain and she's in disassembly anyways, they won't care about losing one day on it. Get the boiler back on #6052 and have Drop Arm put the crane away, I've got plenty other work to put him on."
"You got it boss."
"Oh, and while you're right here anyways, what's the word on #9407 and #995?"
"#9407 is building pressure for her boiler test right now, and #995 was ready to go but when the safety valves lifted earlier on her test, they got stuck. So we had to drop her fire and replace those, but we have her building pressure again. They should both be up to pressure and ready to roll out by the time we have #6052's boiler back in place."
Rod Bearing let out a frustrated groan, "Cheap ass Manehatten parts, brand new and they're already sticking. Throw those things in the scrap bin, I told Bulk those things weren't worth a dime. But, if we can get those two out today, and the Big Six out by the end of the week, we'll actually be back on schedule with the five year stock. Alright, that's all I needed, go make that ten wheeler an actual engine again."
Flap Disk gave a nod before he turned and exited the office. With a quick jog down the office stairs and to the shop floor, he made his way back over to the five year bays, taking a glance up at Drop Arm's crane as it sat in position over the boiler on the five year staging track.
All three of the cranes used in the back shops were of similar designs, with their lifting capacity tailored towards where they were stationed. The trio were high mounted rail cranes, sitting forty feet up against the roof of the shop, or thirty feet in the car shed, riding along steel box rails attached to the shop's walls. Drop Arm's crane was the "strongest" with a three hundred ton lifting capacity, as it was the crane that did all the boiler lifting. The loco shop crane was a still hefty one hundred seventy-five tonner, while the car shop had a hundred ton crane.
Walking past the flatcar mounted boiler, the bare frame of a 2-6-2 shunter in bay five, #784 in bay four, the big six frame in three, and the steaming Mountain Type and TT8 in bays two and one, Flap Disk entered the five year office and grabbed the phone that let him talk with Drop Arm while he was forty feet up in the crane cab.
"Drop, you still awake up there?"
There was a moment of static before Drop Arm picked up on his end, "Barely, you seemed to be taking your sweet ass time. I take it we have a plan now?"
"In fact, we do. We're gonna get 52's boiler set down real quick, and we're forgetting about #784. Just put the crane away once we're done here."
"Alright, I think I can manage that. Gimme the signal when you're ready for me to drop hooks."
"Roger that."
Meanwhile, half way on the other side of the shop, Blow Torch was busy doing what he always did best, working with a blow torch. Currently, he was repairing the steam lines that powered the locomotive brake on an older 4-6-4 Express engine. He was carefully using the torch to heat up the new brass lines and the coupler they sat in so he could mold them together.
"You may make those lines look pretty, but you sure don't hurry to do it." A voice teased him over the noise of the shop.
Torch glanced out between the tall drive wheels at his gas bottle cart and the pony standing next to it, he cracked a cocky smirk before returning his attention to his work, "Who was it who said you can't rush perfection?"
The other pony couldn't help but crack out laughing. "Maybe it was a mistake teaching you." They got out between breaths and chuckles.
Said voice belonged to a fellow shop worker, Shear Pin. Shear Pin had been good friends with Blow Torch's father while he was still stationed in Tall Tale and able to work for the railroad in the shops. He was also one of a group of shop workers who had taken Blow Torch under their wing when he started his work in the shop at 18 and taught him the tricks of the trade. Now, three years later, Blow Torch was looked upon as just another one of them, helped along by his obvious natural talent at the job, especially when working with his name sake.
"Yeah yeah, you can think about that while you pass me a filler rod." Torch shot back as he reached his hoof out through the drivers. Shear Pin just kept chuckling, but he did grab one of the long thin rods sitting on the cart and passed it to Blow Torch.
Just after, a loud hydraulic hum filled the shop as the steam powered hydraulic pumps for the cranes kicked on, making Shear Pin turn and glance down the length of the shop. "Oh, looks like they're finally lifting the Six'er boiler."
"Rhelly?" Blow Torch commented through the rod he held in his mouth before putting it down. "I thought they would have waited given how much the crane's been groaning today."
Shear Pin just started laughing again, "She's an old crane, she always groans, just like all old machines. Long as they keep her track greased real good she always does the job. Been using her so much lately they probably just skipped a grease cycle."
Hidden behind the drives, Blow Torch looked out in concert as he waited for the fitting to dry, watching the cables of the crane drop until finally stopping to be hooked up.
"Getting some beauty sleep in down there or somethin?"
"Just waiting for the coupler to cool down and harden up. You can hop up in the cab, I'll signal you when it's safe to try the brakes."
"Alright, now we're gettin somewhere." Shear pin said with a smile as he stood up and made his way over to the cab ladder.
As he did so, the loud hum came back, and it quickly grew louder and became deeper in tone as the crane slowly began to lift. Blow Torch slid out a bit so he was right between the drive wheels and watched the boiler slowly come into view as it was lifted higher and higher to clear everything in the two bays between it and its frame. Drop Arm brought it up until the cables had nothing left to give, before he started to slowly slide left down the tracks.
Blow Torch's face dropped a bit as the crane almost immediately started to groan, and the further along the track it moved the louder the groaning got, as it seemed to start struggling to move along the track. "Somethin's wrong. Somethin more than just lack of grease." Blow Torch mumbled as he kept watching.
The groaning kept getting worse, the crane struggled more and more to keep moving until finally, it came to a stop. The groaning grew louder still and then, the creaking started.
"Oh… shit." Blow Torch mumbled as his eyes grew wide, his mind unable to contemplate the truth of what was about to happen.
BANG
"OH SHIT!"
At that moment Dusty and I were slowly trundling across the switches that lead to the car shed in our little 0-4-0 saddle tank to pull out a few finished box cars. We had just been chatting when we heard the first low bang come from the shop.
We both stopped mid laugh and glanced over at the shop, just in time to watch the whole left end wall of the five year section be consumed by the largest explosion I've ever witnessed in my life. The force of it shook the ground, tore through the air, and knocked us to the cab floor while rocking our engine.
It took some time before the ringing in my ears stopped and I was able to make sense of anything. I looked around and took note of the fact that I was now on the floor and Dusty was in much the same state I was. With a groan and a throb from my quickly forming headache, I slowly stood up, and was quickly frozen again in shock and fear.
The entire left end wall of the five year section was obliterated, parts of the other walls and roof had collapsed too. The gaping hole was full of wildly crackling flames as deep, thick, black clouds of smoke ploomed out into the sky. The flames quickly began to spread along the destroyed wooden roof of the shop, and then reached along to that of the main roundhouse.
I don't know how long I stood there staring in terror and awe, my brain couldn't comprehend what I was seeing was actually fact. It wasn't until there was another, far smaller explosion that I was finally scared out of my frozen state. It was only then that I took note of the fact that Dusty had gotten back up as well and had been just as fear frozen as me.
But as everything started to sink in and my hearing came back, I could hear the main alarm blaring and the sounds of panic over the flames in the shop. "Oh shit… oh shit… oh shit…" I heard Dusty start mumbling as he started to panic.
Adrenaline started to hit me and slowly I began to think clearly as I looked to one of the blown open shop doors. I grabbed Dusty before he could spiral into panic and shook him, "Dusty get ahold of yourself!"
"Stokes the fucking shop blew up!"
"No really? I hadn't noticed the wall of flames! We have to get in there and help get ponies out!"
Dusty recoiled back like I had just slapped him, "Stokes are you insane! The roof is on fire! The whole roundhouse is probably gonna go up! We go in there, we'll die!"
I was wound up so high at that point I did almost slap him that time, but I caught myself before I did something stupid. Instead, I just glared at him, before I jumped off the hoofplate and ran for the burning shop as ponies who could, ran out of every opening possible.
Dusty stayed on the hoofplate for a few seconds before cursing something along the lines of, "Faust damn it Stokes" before he took off after me.
I sprinted into the shop and was immediately hit by the burning taste of acetylene and coal in the air, but I pushed that thought and the screaming of my lungs to the side as I took note of ponies scrambling around trying to fight the fire and help injured ponies up and away from said fire.
I was glad I was so focused thanks to the overdose of adrenaline, as it allowed me to ignore the horror and disgust I felt at seeing some of the ponies who were injured. Limbs torn open, broken, or just missing, horrific burns, peppered with shrapnel, it was an absolutely traumatic sight, but I just ignored it all.
"Holy fuck Stokes I can barely breath in here." I heard Dusty complain before coughing next to me.
"Fire Stoker, Coal Dust? What the hell are you two doing in here?" We heard somepony yell from in front of us. We looked up to see Steam Chest, the supervisor of the loco shop, coming towards us, with what looked like a pretty rough gash across the side of his head.
"Um, Steam, you're…"
"We're here to help, where do you need us." I cut Dusty off before he could waste any time, I was at least sane enough to know we didn't have time to waste in that moment.
"Thank Faust! I need hooves that can move. Stokes, head back down the shop towards the car shed and make sure everyone is out of there. Dusty, go with him and get all the fire extinguishers you can from the loco fab shop, we need to keep the flames away from the support beams for as long as possible!"
"Right!" We both yelled back and quickly took off down towards the car shop.
Dusty soon broke off as he went about his task, as I got down towards the middle of the shop and started to call out. "Anyone still back here! Hello!" It wasn't long before my throat started to burn like the fire behind me, but I didn't stop as I worked further down the shop.
As I got near a passenger 4-6-4 and called out again, I heard a voice call back. "Help! Help please!" I turned towards the passenger engine, and through the growing haze of smoke, I thought I saw somepony.
I didn't think twice and quickly ran over, and was shocked by what greeted me. There was one of my closest friends, Blow Torch, trapped under an overturned torch gas cart, which weighed about 270lbs, pinned against the third drive wheel. And he was bleeding.
Badly.
Blood dripped down the side of his head from a long slash, which looked like it came from slamming his head against the connecting rod. One of the overturned tanks had landed on his legs and pinned them against the inside flange of the wheel, cutting deeply into both of them to the point I could see the bone and tendons underneath. Only the onset of panicked concern for my gravely injured friend kept me from throwing up in shock at the graphic state of Blow Torch.
Yet despite it all, he somehow managed to smile when he saw me. "Stokes, you saint…. Help me, please…. Everything hurts…. And it's, kinda hard to breath…."
My mind kicked into overdrive as he spoke, I knew he needed to get out of there, and fast. I didn't respond, simply grabbing onto the torch cart and gas bottles and pulled as hard as I could. I was a strong colt, but usually doing something like that was a bit much even for me. But that didn't matter at the time, my friend was in danger and that torch cart was in my way of helping him, it had to move.
I don't remember actually lifting the cart off him, but the next thing I knew I was pulling Blow Torch away from the locomotive and onto my back. "Don't worry Torch! I gotcha! You're gonna be fine!" I started, running with him on my back towards the nearest open door out of the shop.
I burst out of the smoke into the glaring light of the sun to find what seemed like every pony who lived in Tall Tale encircling the roundhouse and back shop, fighting the fire and helping those who were injured. I turned towards the nearest group and started running even faster. "Hey! Hey, I need a doctor right now!"
That quickly got some heads turning. It was a bit of a shock for many to see me sprinting away from the burning shop carrying Blow Torch on my back who was dripping in blood. The fact of that last part quickly got them kicked into action, rushing over to take him from me and get him the help he desperately needed.
But as they took him off my back, Blow Torch grabbed my leg, "Stokes…. You need to go and… help Shear Pin… He was… working with me when… everything happened… I couldn't see him and… he never responded to me… he could be in…. some real trouble…"
I found it kinda funny even at the time that Blow Torch didn't seem to consider himself "in real trouble." Either way, I nodded. And then, I made what at times in my life I have considered, the worst promise I've ever made. "Don't worry Torch, I'll find him, I promise." And just like that, I turned back around and ran back towards the burning back shop.
The roof was starting to collapse over what was left of the five year bays, and the smoke was only growing thicker inside what was still standing. But, even knowing all of this, I charged back into the thick haze of smoke, in search of Shear Pin.
I sat panting for breath on the shunting plate of one of the locomotives that had shown up to help move around the large rail mounted fire equipment. I had no idea how long it had been, or how long I had been in those shops helping fight the fires back long enough so everyone else could have time to evacuate. But there wasn't much we had been able to do since we only had fire extinguishers to work with, and a limited number at that.
In reality it had barely been an hour since the explosion. The entire roof of both the shop and roundhouse was engulfed in flame, and it was honestly just a waiting game for them to come crashing down. Both the roundhouse and the back shops would be a total loss, along with many of the engines that were still inside.
But still crews fought with high pressure hoses to keep the fire contained and not spread to the other sheds. That was somepony else's job though, I had done my part to help, it was time for a good break.
Just as I let out a sigh and leaned back to relax on the shutting plate, I heard a familiar voice call my name.
"Dusty!"
I leaned my head up a bit to see my brother Ash Pan sprinting across the yard towards me. I rolled my eyes a bit as I leaned back up just in time to have him drag me off the loco and crush me with a hug.
"You gave me a Faust damn heart attack when I heard you were in there! I thought you were still in there!"
"Yo… Ash…. Bro… Need air…" "Oh, sorry." I gasped for breath as he finally let me down. "Damn it Ash, my lungs hurt enough already. Damn smoke in there choked the life out of me."
Ash Pan visibly calmed down when he saw I was acting like myself, aka acting like life was one big joke, which was the family indicator that I was completely fine.
"Well excuse me for caring about my brother." That got a laugh from both of us as I leaned back against the engine.
"Yeah well, you don't need to worry about me. I got out with the rest of the others who stayed back and tried to control that shit. Worked about as well as holding your hoof out on Nightmare to try and slow down."
That got him laughing pretty hard, which just made me chuckle. "Hahahaha…. Yeah, you're fine if you're joking like that." He then looked up and looked around curiously, "Hey, where's Stokes? Unlike the two of you to not be attached at the hip."
"Alright, first off, fuck you. And second, no idea. Haven't seen him since this whole mess started. We both went in at the same time, but I got sent to the fab shop for extinguishers, and he got sent towards the car shed looking for ponies who needed help getting out."
Ash's face darkened a bit, "Did you ever see him get out?"
"No, he was on the other end of the shop." I immediately shot back.
Ash just kept staring at me for a minute, until the fact of what I just said hit. "Oh, fuck. Stokes could still be in there!"
"Now don't go panicking already. This is Stokes we're talking about, he's like some weird railroad genius. He would have been smart enough to get himself out by now. He's probably just chilling somewhere else. Somepony's gotta have seen him."
I nodded and with nothing else said, the two of us began going to the different groups of gathered ponies asking if they had seen Stokes.
But things got more and more concerning as each group we went to gave us the same answer, none of them knew where Stokes was. Even more concerning was they all had the same answer for when they saw him last, after getting Blow Torch out, right before he ran back in looking for Shear Pin.
I was starting to feel more and more justified for having panicked, especially when the whole yard was rocked as the burning roofs finally gave out and fell in on themselves. If Stokes was still in the shops, there was no chance he was coming out alive now.
Ash and I both started to panic and ran back and forth looking everywhere physically possible, quickly recruiting others who weren't busy to help as we searched for Stokes. About five minutes later as Ash and I were looking through a few strings of box cars that had been sitting on the far right tracks next to the car shop, I heard Ash call out from the next string over, his voice filled with panic, "Dusty!"
I didn't think as I sprinted down to the end of the strings, "I'm coming!" I yelled as I took the corner, sprinting towards his back.
As I came up next to him, I didn't even get the time to ask him what was going on before I saw.
We had found Stokes, and something was wrong with him, very wrong.
He was sitting against the bogie of one of the box cars half way down the fourth string, curled up in a ball, not moving, just staring blankly at the box car on the next track over, and his entire body was pale. I not so lightly shoved past Ash and got down in front of Stokes, shaking him a bit, "Stokes, Stokes it's me, Dusty, you good bud?"
Nothing.
He didn't even flinch, his eyes just kept staring blankly ahead like I wasn't even there.
It was like he was a living corpse, and it was fucking terrifying.
I shook him a bit harder and got closer to him, "Stokes, Fire Stoker it's me Coal Dust, are you alright?" I asked with rising panic as still, he sat there unmoving, staring right through me.
He didn't even fucking blink.
"Ash go get a doctor, now." I said as I just kept staring in fear at my other brother. I could tell Ash didn't move. "Go get some fucking help!" I screamed at him, my voice shaking and cracking as tears built up at the corners of my eyes.
That finally snapped Ash out of whatever shit he was in as he turned and galloped as hard as he could, "Hey! Hey I need some help over here now! I need a medic right fucking now!" His voice quickly fell off as he got farther and farther away, and that left me alone with Fire Stoker.
My body started to tremble as I felt the tears start running down my face. "Stokes. Stokes come on, snap out of this shit. Please..." I mumbled in fear as behind me, I heard voices start shouting and a fresh commotion stirred.
Late that evening, a somber mood hung in the air as Bulkhead, Ditch Light, High  
Ball, and their sons sat in the main conference room. They had been all but glued there since the roofs collapsed and the fires started to be contained. Now the main flames had been doused, but the embers of rubble still smoldered brightly in the night sky.
"I still can't believe something like this could happen. We were so sure everything was up to safety standards." Spotlight mumbled as he held his head with his hooves.
"Everything was up to safety standards, we have the documentation to prove that. But that won't help us right now." Bulk senior said with a sigh as he looked out to the orange glow that came from where the main roundhouse had once stood.
Now, all that was left was the soot coated stone outer walls, and the charred remains of the numerous locomotives that had be caught inside. Yet even those walls were starting to fall in on themselves. "I can say without a doubt this is the worst tragedy we've ever had the misfortune to experience. This is much larger than just a loss for the railroad, this is a devastating blow to the entire town."
The others all nodded in agreement. "Have we got any solid numbers at this point?" High Ball asked.
"Sadly, we still only have estimates, and they have only gotten worse. The estimated missing is currently in the forties." That was a hard blow for all in the room.
Accidents that took just one or two of their workers were looked upon as tragedies by all, but something on this scale had never happened before. "And that fails to mention those that were injured either by the explosion or while trying to contain the fire."
"And we still have no clue as to what the cause was?" Ditchlight asked, annoyed.
"It has something to do with Drop Arm's crane, that much we know, but that's about as far as we've gotten at this point. We'll have to wait until the rubble cools off before we can start properly investing." Red stated.
Just then there was a knock on the door and Bulkhead's secretary poked her head in. "Hate to interrupt gentlestallions, but I've got a new stack of updates on ponies in the hospital."
"Thank you Miss Silver Tongue." Bulk senior said with a nod.
The unicorn nodded back with a soft smile and placed the stack of about twenty folders on the table, where the six ponies quickly dove into going through them. One name soon stood out to High Ball as he saw it appear at the top of the stack.
"Wait a second, Fire Stoker? What was he doing anywhere near the shops?"
"Birch Arch's kid? I thought he finished his time in the shops already" Big Red asked as he looked over at the file.
"He did, that's why I'm confused. What the hell? Look at this, 'patient placed in a magically induced coma for the sake of their own mental well-being.' What the hell is that all about? None of the others were put in comas, and for the sake of his mental well-being? How could that possibly help his mental state?!" High Ball stated in confusion as he further scanned the record. "He wasn't even injured that badly, worst he got was smoke inhalation and some pulled muscles. Something isn't adding up here."
That was when a moment of realization hit Spotlight, "That must of been who he was talking about."
"What are you on about Spot?" His father asked.
"I had a moment to speak with one the medic team leads while I was on my way over here, just trying to get an idea of how bad ponies that made it out were. He mentioned that they had found a young colt in a string of boxcars next to the car shed who was awake but completely unresponsive. I'll bet my bottom bit that was Fire Stoker."
The others all looked to each other with this little tidbit of information, before High Ball sighed, "Why does it seem like that poor colt can never catch a break. First his father and now this. I'll be surprised if he keeps working the line after this."
"That's the least of our concerns right now." Bulk interjected, "First we need to figure out what the hell happened to him. When we go to check on the ponies in the hospital tomorrow, I want one of you to make him your first stop."
"I'll do it." Spotlight quickly said. The others would offer nods of agreement before returning to go through the rest of the folders still left on the desk.
I took a moment to finally let everything sink in for Hotbox as he sat slack jawed staring at me, his third glass of whiskey completely forgotten as the details of the story properly hit him. After a few minutes, he'd finally find his voice. "S-so what happened?"
I sighed as I poured myself my fourth glass. "It took a while to figure that out thanks to the fire, but eventually they were able to determine it was the box rails of Drop Arm's crane that had caused the incident. They were mounted directly into the stone walls of the shop, but age had made the brickwork brittle. The heavy load of the crane had started to pull the anchors out of the stone. That's why he was having issues with his crane sticking on the rails, the box rails were twisting away from the wall and were pinching against the drive chains and guide wheels of the crane. When he picked up that big six boiler that day, the extra tonnage overwhelmed the faulty anchors, causing the crane to get stuck at the weakest point in the rails as they twisted further out of alignment. The strain of holding up the crane and the boiler while the drive system tried to pull them through finally became too much, and ripped the anchors right out of the wall."
I paused to take another sip from my drink, it was never easy for me to tell this story. "When they did, it brought the whole crane down with them, but the drive system still pulled it along the remaining rail for a moment, causing the suspended boiler to swing and knock into #995, knocking it over and causing the boiler to give out. The explosion from that detonated the boiler of #9407, those combined blasts are what blew apart the shop walls and started the fire. We actually got lucky in that regard in a way, since #9407 wasn't at full pressure yet when she blew. If she had been, a third of the shop would have been destroyed in an instant."
I let out a long low sigh as I looked down at my desk and my drink, "Though, that's where our luck ended that day. When all was said and done, we lost 48 ponies in the explosions and fire, including the entire five year staff, they never stood a chance. Out of the 117 ponies that were in the back that day, only 8 made it out unscaved. Even then a lot of those that did make it out were hurt so bad they never returned to work, or were so scared of the shops that they refused to come back. Only 35 ponies that made it out that day ended up returning to work."
A heavy silence hung in my office for some time after, neither of us really knew what to say. Eventually though, my son found his voice again, "So then, what, happened to you? Why'd they put you in a coma?"
I sighed deeply again, I had hoped he wouldn't ask that question, but I knew he would. I knocked back the rest of my glass before reaching for the bottle again to pour me another. "It was because of what I saw when I went back in there."
A soft look of confusion crossed his face before I continued. "It took me a moment to find that old Hudson again when I went back in, the smoke had gotten so thick I could barely see two feet in front of me. I knew Shear Pin couldn't have been on the left side of the engine, as I would have seen him when I was helping Blow Torch. So when I found that engine again, the first thing I thought to do was look in the… cab."
My voice trembled a little along with my hoof on the glass when I said that, as the memory of that moment hit me like a runaway flatcar. "I called out to him as I started up the ladder, but there was no reply. A-and then…" my voice trembled more as I started to lose control of my emotions. "I-i… I popped my head over the cab floor… and I learned why he wasn't responding…"
I downed half my drink in one go as I tried to steady myself as that haunting image of what I saw filled my brain. "Shear Pin had been at the back of the engine's cab when the explosions happened, and when they did, shrapnel got fired across the back shops. A piece of boiler plate two foot long and nearly a foot wide got sent flying across the shops, and… it hit him… right in the damn head."
My body started to shake again as my mind recalled every vivid detail. "I-it… it split his head in half… When I looked over the floor of the engine cab… I-i found the r-right side of his face sitting on the floor… His… his right eye was s-staring back at me… h-his mouth locked in a scream of horror…"
I quickly downed the rest of my drink again, trying to calm myself down, not even able to look up at my son's now shocked and horrified expression. "That's… the last thing I remember… the whole world went black after that. I don't know how I made it out of the shops before they collapsed, or why I ended up along the boxcars… No pony does. The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital four days later with my mom, Dusty, Ash, and a doctor in the room. Told me I had been diagnosed with some, traumatic stress disorder. I ended up in counseling for a few months to try and help me get over it all. But that face…. That fucking face… it haunted my dreams every night for almost two years after that day. Even now it still gets me once and a while. No matter how hard I try, I can't shake the image from my mind…. Probably never will."
I let the room fall back into an uneasy silence and waited for the whiskey to clear that Faust forsaken image from my head before I spoke again. "We made a lot of changes after that day. Engines aren't allowed to be steamed up inside the shop anymore, we inspect the cranes three times as often as the regulations dictate, set up proper fire fighting systems in the shops, and made and drilled on proper evacuation techniques for all sorts of emergencies, just to name a few. The new shop foreman and his new right hoof, Steel Shim and Rivet, wanted to make absolutely sure something like that could never sneak up on them again."
"Wait, what happened to Rod Bearing and Flap Disk?" Hotbox asked, seeming almost scared of the answer now.
"Flap was killed along with the rest of the five year crew. As for Rod… he survived, but he blamed himself for what had happened. He couldn't live with the grief of it all… and took his own life two weeks later. The big six did put some blame at his hooves, he did order the use of a crane that was showing serious problems, but ultimately blamed themselves for not catching those problems sooner."
The whiskey was finally starting to take effect, as my mind blurred away the cursed image of Shear Pin once again. As it did, I would look back to my son. "I don't tell you this story to try and scare you, I know it did, I can see it written all over your face like a manifest. No, I told you this the way I did because I want to impart on you one of the most important lessons I have learned in my years on the railroad. I know I preach respect for the railway and its equipment to you and your brother, and for good reason in my eye. But respect and safety can only go so far sometimes, no matter how much of it you have. The reality behind the fantasy of railroading, as you put it earlier, is railroading is a dangerous and deadly job, especially on this line. I know you know that, but sometimes I feel ponies forget just how deadly it can be. We've all grown used to the danger, we live with it everyday on every run, but that can make you complacent in that danger. You know it's there, but you think in the back of your mind, "I've done this for years, nothing will happen to me." And it's just that kind of mindset that'll get you killed. The shop ponies had all grown used to the cranes groaning and screeching, so they thought nothing of it when those groans got more frequent and screeches got just a little louder. They just passed it off as an old machine being an old machine, we all did in a way. Until that old machine decided to remind us it wasn't just that cranky friend we work with, it's a mass of emotionless steel that doesn't care how many nice words you say to it. We've come a long way since then on making this line as safe a workplace as any railroad can be. But just by nature of it being a railroad, it's still dangerous, and it's still deadly. I doubt you will ever see events like what happened that day in your lifetime on the rails, at least I pray you never do. But that doesn't mean they can't happen. The best advice I ever got on the matter was to not focus on the danger, but always remember it's there." I finally let up on my speech and leaned back in the chair, letting Hotbox really take to heart what I had said.
As I put the bottle of whiskey away and he finished off his glass, he would look up at me again. "Dad, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course bud."
His eyes would flick down to the empty glass in his hoofs for a moment, before they returned to me, "Why do you stay?"
That was not one of the dozen questions my mind had already been forming answers to, and caught me a bit off guard. "What do you mean, stay? On the railroad or in Tall Tale."
He gave a little shrug, "Both I guess. I mean just the things you've told me about that have happened over your years on the line, I mean you've almost died a few times. Your dad's friend Iron Sides moved to Manehattan after their wreck, and even Grandma moved to the outskirts of Vanhoover once you left the house. But despite all the crazy things that have happened to you, you stay here. Why?"
Now it was my turn to sit in silence for a minute and think about what my son had said. To give him credit, he made a good point. I had experienced a lot of terrible things in my time in town, from losing my Dad, to the back shop explosion, to numerous wrecks, be it my own or others that had injured or killed many friends.
But after a while, a soft smile would cross my face as I gave a little chuckle. "You know, you're not the first pony to ask me that. There were a couple reporters who did after that whole mess with Blueblood, even a couple of my friends around here have asked the same thing. And you want to know what's funny, I never really was able to come up with a good answer for them. I've seen a decent chunk of Equestria in my time, not all of it but a good majority, and there are definitely some beautiful places that I wouldn't mind seeing again. But, none of them really felt like home, not like Tall Tale does. As for the railway, I don't think I could ever leave it. I'm well aware of the dangers, probably more than most at this point, and I know it wouldn't be too hard to find a safer job that lets me be at home with all of you more. But, I can't stand being out of an engine cab, it's where I feel comfortable, running trains just makes me happy. Sure I could go work for another line that doesn't require climbing a crazy mountain pass, but I like that crazy old mountain line. It's a challenge, a challenge you can't find anywhere else in the nation, one that even I haven't mastered yet, and that's the beauty of it in my eye. So why don't I leave, I'm not entirely sure. Some would say I'm crazy to stay here after everything I've seen and all that's happened to me in my life. But, as I always say."
He would smile a little bit as he knew where I was going, and would finish the sentence along with me. "You gotta be a little crazy to run this line."
The two of us would share a smile and a short chuckle as I stood up and stretched the stiffness from my body. I would take his empty glass from him and place it alongside mine in the drawer with the whiskey before glancing up at the clock, seeing that it was already past three in the morning, "Alright kiddo, I think that's enough storytelling for one night. We should probably get heading home."
He would give a little nod before letting out a long yawn as he stood up. "Sounds good to me, I was just starting to realize how tired I am."
I'd chuckle softly to myself as I put a foreleg around him again and led him out of the office. "Yeah I hear you there."
As we started walking through the control tower towards the exit, a thought came to me that made me crack a little smile. "You know" I'd say to get him looking up at me, "Me and Dusty have to help clean up the yard tomorrow, and Dusty's a little out of practice with hoof firing an engine. He might find himself getting tired." I'd say with a little wink down at him.
It took him a moment to realize what I was implying before his face was split apart with a wide smile, "You're gonna let me fire again tomorrow?!" I couldn't help but to chuckle again at his excitement as I held the door to the main street open for him. "I may, that is, if you don't fall asleep on the coal load again."
His face would quickly turn to a little scowl as he let out a groan. "Ugh, one damn time and you won't let me forget it!" The sound of my laughing filled the air as we made our way home side by side.
As I laughed though, I didn't catch him turn his head to get one last look at the damaged roundhouse, my story still holding fresh in his mind.