The Zombie Train The Transport Corp

Chapter 6: Trouble On The Rails

The gentle chuffing and warm fire nearly lulling me to sleep, though, I kept a vigil on the line ahead. We coasted into Soledad, making a gentle stop at the old platform. I blew the whistle, setting the brakes. Hopping down to inspect the coaches, while Davidson and Will counted passengers.
There was something about coach three that seemed off about it. The brake pads were only somewhat lifted off the wheel tire. It was only one set of wheels, the rest of the bogie's brakes worked fine. I assured myself that we still had plenty of braking power for the train.
I blew a long whistle, followed by a quilled one. Opening the throttle slightly, we accelerated out of Soledad. As we continued down the open fields of the salad bowl, out in the distance, we saw the buildings of Greenfield. And our base inside of it. Taking out my camera, I took a picture of the sunset behind the city.
"Give me a copy when you get it processed."
I chuckled, setting my hand back on the throttle, I put my eyes back on the rails.
We trundled along, slowing for a stop in King City. Dropping off and collecting passengers. I took a closer look at coach three. The brake shoe would still not apply, even when Will tested the brakes.
Strange. I'll report it when we get home.
We continued onwards, it was getting dark now. 6:32.
We made a stop in San Lucas, where the main line separated from the road. The brakes of coach three were fully functional now, guess it was a false alarm.
San Ardo, 7:01.
There was a slight shaking in carriage four, but that wasn't out of the ordinary.
Traveling over Sargent Creek bridge, I opened the cylinder cocks for the photographer near the road. Whistling on by, we trundled along at a steady 50 miles per hour.
A short stop for water at Bradley. The brake shoes in coach three's front bogie were completely off, even though, in the cab, they were fully applied. Worrisome.
We had to make up for lost time, and I wanted to be there in Paso Robles by 7:30. It was 7:00 now.
With a quick stop in San Miguel, it was a straight shot to Paso Robles.
We came to a gentle stop, with ten minutes ahead of schedule. We quickly ran around and coupled onto the rear of the train. Powell laced up the air hoses, and I opened the small ejector, but there was a problem.
When we tried to shove off, the old 7F would do nothing but wheelslip. I opened the regulator, the heavy barking of the engine, followed by the nails-on-chalkboard squeal of wheels on rails. Even when I hit the sander, the barking continued. Closing the reg, I hopped down to take a look.
Coaches three through five were jammed hard on! No matter how many times we released the brakes, they wouldn't come off. We tried introducing air through the other end, but only coaches four and five brakes came off.
We worked into the evening, 7:50.
"You know what Marvin? It's obvious we can't fix this here, we need to get back to Gonzales." Davidson caught me on my shoulder.
"But we can't just go with no brakes, we could plow straight into Mathew's excursion if we do."
"Then, what do you suppose we do?" Powell asked.
"Here's an idea." Davidson, said. "If we could remove the brake blocks, then can we just pull a brake vehicle as well?"
I thought for a moment, a happy feeling began to glow in my stomach.
"Mr. Davidson! That's a brilliant idea!"
"That would work. It wouldn't be comfortable for the passengers." Davidson continued.
"Is that even legal?" Powell asked.
I laughed. "Powell, I haven't made any rules against it, and I'm the secretary of transportation. Let's get our brake van."
Using Dai, we coupled onto an old caboose. We assured the handbrakes brakes still worked, then coupled it onto our train. I joined Powell in the cab.
We took off the brakes, giving two long whistles to signal departure. I looked back, Davidson blew his whistle and waved his flag. I quilled the whistle and head out.