Changes in the Wind - Part III: Gordon and the Extinct Ones

Chapter 11: Clash

Howler looked over the Warclaws, they were shaking violently. He grumbled to himself angrily. "You said they will be fine for two weeks!" he snapped, turning around and pointing a finger at Bark.

Bark, who was trying not to shake himself, fumbled. "I-I-I was sure of it," he stammered, "something must've defected it!"

"Of course, something defected!" wrapped Howler, "it always defects, when you let a stupid, brain-dead lump of fat that calls himself a scientist, suggest using an increasing amount of Haywield Drug!"

Bark bunched his shoulders up. "I-I-I'm sorry Inspector H-Howler sir," he said, "we-we did not know the effect would wear off so quickly."

"Well guess what?" huffed Howler, rubbing his hands against his face in frustration, "the effects are worn off now and we have Warclaws getting migraines out there! They're sensing feelings now! They will go against their programming and will their mission!"

"But it is fine now inspector!" blurted out Bark, "the Warclaws will not be needed anymore, most of the steam engines are all but gone now!"

"Except for the few eighty engines in these yards right now," said Howler, "and guess what is going to occur now?"

The door suddenly burst open and a workman came in, gasping for breath. "There is... a march of engines... steam and diesel... heading towards the yard..." he said, trying to catch his breath.

Howler slowly turned back to Bark, who looked like he was about to relieve himself right there and then. Howler rolled his eyes and walked out of the office. "Get all the Warclaws and all diesels loyal to us ready," he snapped, "they're here to get those steam engines, and we will kill them for it. Just what the devil wanted us to do."

***

The engines moved up toward the yards, the evening sun was beginning to set and nightfall will be arriving soon. But the engines were ready for them. There was certainly not enough of them, but they had to try. And the leader of it all, Gordon puffed forward bold and grand, his face determined, leading the engines forward towards the yards. He eventually heard the sounds of growling that were all too familiar to him now. He looked on as the sight of Warclaws came into view, there were many of them. At least twenty of them, the biggest amount of them he had ever seen, he can hear some of the engines faulting a little in their pace toward the yard.

"Stay calm," he called, to them, "remember, they are weakened."

He then noticed, diesels coming out of the yards, seeing them made Gordon scowl, and he glared crossly at them. The diesels behind him seem to growl louder than ever before and Gordon kept going, his wheels moving with determination. Then he saw a man step down from one of the diesel's cabs.

"Hold!" he shouted and he and all of the engines came to a stop, a few hundred yards away from the force of Warclaws.

There was silence at first, until a man in a white coat, looking vaguely like a scientist gave the figure Gordon saw earlier a microphone. The mic was turned on and the man began to speak.

"King Gordon of Sodor," he greeted, "I swore I told you to talk about this, not use petty violence."

Gordon's eyes then widened in realisation. "You're the inspector that came to me a few nights ago in London," he called back, "the one that wanted to use me as a pawn to keep the remaining steam engines in line."

"Good thing you did not do it then," replied Skeeher, who stood next to him.

"Alright," said Howler, "I will give you a chance Gordon, you can take all of your minions with you back to where you came from and you can live happy lives in make-belief land. Or, you can be killed by these Warclaws tonight. I am only offering you this one time, the next thing you will say will seal the fate of all these engines, in and out of this yard."