Dai had called me down to inspect Dai.
Yes he named the new 7F. Ex-British Railways's 53805, renumbered to 53802. Although, I was completely fine with this. A tribute to one of my favorite Youtube series before the apocalypse.
Powell had gone to town refurbishing the old thing. He had given it a new glossy black paint job, even going so far as to put the official Transport Corp logo on it. I gawked at the beauty of it. Even though he had scavenged most of the materials: he welded on new knuckle couplers, instead of the old hook and chain style couples; he had a new air compressor fitted under the frame, in place of the vacuum generator; he even got rid of that god-awful midland axel box, I owe him one after that. The one thing he didn't touch... was the whistle. He gave a long blow of the wailing whistle, it echoed through the valley.
"One hell of a train."
"You said it Dai, let's go take her for a run."
I climbed up onto the ladder, Powell was shoveling coal like mad. I stood on the driver's side, the left side, checking over evrything. I blew down the water glasses, checked the lubricator. Opening the small ejector to take off the brakes. I heard the air pump begin to charge the lines. I set the black vacuum leaver to "off." I heard the woosh of the brake lines charging. I watched the brake gauge slowly move over, hovering over 21 psi. I reached down to open the cylinder cocks, unscrewing the handbrake. I quilled the whistle. The iconic sound echoing around town. I tapped opened the regulator slightly. Half a second later, the tremendous woosh of steam escaping out front of the engine. Half a wheel turn, a heavy chuff escaped the smoke stack. I gave her a little more power, the chuffing hastened. Soon, we were doing thirty on the main line.
I had run this 7F in Train Simulator, but the real thing was on a totally different level. Even though this engine was built for the hills of the S&D, it would serve well in our arsenal.
I set the brakes, the hissing of air as I saw the speedometer slowly drop. At five miles per hour, I let off the brake handle, coming to a gentle stop.
"Nice job. Now let's head home."
"Sir."
I screwed the reverser into the reverse position, opening the cylinder cocks for a good show. The hiss of escaping steam and chuffing behind us as we gained speed. I shut the cylinder cocks, keeping a look out back as we accelerated backwards. The wind in my face and the oily smell of my small piece of railway history.
YOU ARE READING
The Zombie Train The Transport Corp
Fiksi IlmiahThe Salinas Vally is secure, allies are assured, but the work isn't over yet. Moving things around this new country is a never ending job. Now it's time for politics, as the Democratic Society of the United States grows bit by bit. But an enemy loom...
