Photo by Ron Cogswell

"What ho, Thomas?" cried Sir Topham Hatt. "Back from the railyard so soon?" Wordlessly, Thomas pulled back, revealing a shadowy figure.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

His wheels ground along the track as he came to a halt. He hurt so badly, he couldn't even feel his coal box. But there would be a price.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

The shadowy figure lurched up slowly, haltingly, a glint of metal in his hand. Hatt peered closely, then gasped. "CYRIL! BUT YOU'RE DEAD!"

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"Dead," he rasped, as if savoring both the feel and taste of the word in his mouth. "Dead. No. But not because you didn't try."

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

Nervously, Hatt backed up, using the panic button to summon Salty and the Dockyard Enforcers. Wheels turned unnoticed behind him.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean," Hatt boomed, trying to keep steady. Just under five minutes from the docks at full steam.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"The foghorn," Cyril replied, swinging the bright steel crowbar lazily back and forth. "The goddamn foghorn AND THE LANDSLIDE OLD MAN."

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

He shouldn't have survived. James may not be able to haul a coal car worth a damn, but he was a professional. Hatt cleared his throat.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"We were so worried," he began. Four minutes. He could hear Salty's chant in the distance. "…and the captain yawns…"

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

He almost tripped over the cowcatcher behind him. Wheeling, he saw Percy's unmoving eyes drilling into his soul. "YOU," he sneered.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

Percy was silent, but steam wheezed out of cracks in his top pipe. Hatt turned back to Cyril.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

Still just over three minutes. He could hear Salty's insane sea shanties in the wind, but they were still too far.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"Why, we spent hours looking for you, Cyril," Hatt said, noting that the other man had stopped just short of crowbar range.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"My fathce," came the low, haunted sound from Thomas. Hatt looked more closely and saw for the first time the ruin of stillness there.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"I can't move it, OLD MAN," Thomas wheezed. "I never could. But you took even the thmile from me, jusht to inthtall a FOG HORN."

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"It's NOT LIKE THAT!" Hatt cried. Under two minutes. The Dockyard Destroyer was so close. Just a bit longer. "We had no idea–"

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

Thomas creaked forward, the left half of his face a wreck of metal and rock. "How much wath the inthurance claim? HOW MUCH WATH YOUR THOUL?"

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"Yo ho ho!" came the bloody, faux-Scottish cry. Salvation. Hatt opened his mouth to gloat when the ungodly sound of metal tearing began.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

"Your friends are off to Satan's Scrapheap, HATT," Cyril growled. "JAMES is already waiting for them."

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

Closer. The crowbar could reach flesh now. "Do you think Edward didn't know why you sent him over the Big, Big Bridge again and again?"

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

Screams of absolute pain pierced the night as Edward and Gordon began using Cranky's corpse to string up the Dockyard Enforcers.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

He'd known this day was coming. He'd seen the hate in Percy's eyes when he'd given the mail route to Harold.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

He'd seen the pain in Thomas's eyes when Harvey met his untimely end — of love and loss and rage.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

But he had an island to run. No coal-driven antiquities with frozen, cheery faces could stand in the way of that.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

How to explain the end of the depreciation writeoffs, the spiraling labor costs, the fact that coal was really dirty and disgusting?

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

And when he'd found Cyril conspiring with Thomas to smash all the automatic foghorns? To undo all of his hard work?

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015

There had been no going back. Nor would there be now. He still had some cards left to play in this bitter hand.

— ≠ (@ThomasHCrown) September 29, 2015