Sam's Wedding Special

Skimming down my list, I rattled it off to the Supply Sergeant.
"Wedding cake?"
"Check."
"Topper?"
"Check."
"Chocolate cake?"
"Check."
"Banana cake?"
"Check."
"Ice cream cake?"
"Check."
"Those special brussel sprouts from that one place?"
"Check."
"Home-baked cupcakes?"
"Ready and waiting there."
"Sp..." I trailed off. "Sparkling wine?"
The Sergeant double-taked as well. Just nodding. "I managed to find some."
I sighed.
"Plates?"
"50 full sets."
"Silverware?"
"50 full sets."
"Napkins."
"10 bundles. All freshly printed."
"Catering?"
"Loaded and ready."
"Foodstuffs?"
"200 tor-tillas, 50 pounds of meat, 80 pounds of various other greens. Three complements of toppings. 30 packages of both hamburger and hotdog buns. Equal sets of fresh hamburgers and hotdogs. Enough pasta to feed a small town. And they're all loaded up into the reefers for freshness. Not any of them a day old."
"Perfect."
I took the clipboard from him. Flipping it over to verify my manifest for the umptillienth time.

I was entrusted with making sure everything for Sam's wedding would go splendidly. I had already moved Heaven and Earth to set up the park and Church in just a week's notice. But beyond the most basic of things, every train that shuttled wedding supplies, no matter what, was given priority 1 (the highest priority aside from the President's private train) and were hauled by several P1 express passenger locomotives for speed.
I was especially proud of managing to source a full and impeccable set of pre-apocalypse white outdoor folding chairs for our guests.
I know I was told to plan for around 20 or so people, but with how fast word spreads, I'm betting on at least 50 being there. No doubt. And so, just in case, I took out of my own budget to secure this. It was my responsibility, so I would personally make sure everything was squared away.
Samara and Peder's wedding was going to be the best wedding since the apocalypse, Marvin certified.

So I set to work.

I had the last train out of Spreckels.
Four fully-loaded reefers, eight boxcars of various goods, two car carriers with a fleet of classic cars, a tanker full of champagne, another of wine, and another of beer. If I could bring something to be had at this wedding, it was on this train. In all, just a little under 700 tons for a 17-car train.
Next was the choice of motive power. Because of the short notice, only a single P1 was available for this train. 4-6-2 Pacifics, while they are very good for speed, useful in a service like this; their acceleration is quite poor for a heavy train like this one, which would've probably required double-heading.
Thankfully, however, this was one of the later P1s, which Powell outfitted with booster engines to the trailing truck in order to give the locomotive just that little bit of extra "oomph" when starting heavy trains. That of which, I'll be taking full advantage of. On top of things such as an automatic stoker, and good all-around efficiency meant that, especially for a one-man crew like today's run, it was less maintenance needed on my part once we get underway. Of course, this was still a two-man job, which only served to make things that more interesting.
Climbing into the cab, settling into my padded seat, I said a little prayer.
This run was a short but heavy one, with several dangers along the way. For one, the sheer length of this train meant that the automatic train brakes would be decently unresponsive, requiring me to rely on the much weaker locomotive independents for quick and small adjustments.
Second, because of the recent rains, Chular threatened to flood again. Which, if that does happen, means I'll be running on submerged tracks. Hopefully, they'll get some pumps going and the sky remains clear for the rest of the day if it does flood, otherwise not only will the cargo I'm carrying possibly get soaked. God and Grandpa willing.
I gingerly picked up the radio, depressing the button.
"Dispatch. This is fifty-four twelve extra. Contacting Dispatch."
"Gonzales Dispatch. Fifty-four twelve, you are authorized ahead from Spreckles to Gonzales via yard track 1. Watch for Maintenance Of Way crew around Chular. Possible water running. Slow orders are in your waybill, otherwise permitted up to track speed. You are cleared to Salinas with a holdover pending Train 201 where you will observe signals. Over."
I clicked the button.
"Copy. I will depart for Salinas and wait for Train 201 pending signal. Fifty-four Twelve highball."
I lay the radio to rest on its holder. Kicking off the brakes.
I grabbed hold of the whistle cord. Blowing a screechy single, clearing the nose. Then a long second on our famous "Sundance" three-chime whistle.