Derail: Hell Rides the Rails - Softcover

Bucklin, Jason

Softcover

ISBN 10: 147595820X ISBN 13: 9781475958201

Publisher: iUniverse, 2012

Synopsis

Faced with many obstacles the characters in these books must deal with mind-changing terror. Will they survive or perish? What would you do if this happened to you? Meet a host of characters with one thing in common . . . life!

About this title

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

DERAIL

Hell rides the rails.

By Jason Bucklin

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Jason Bucklin
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-4759-5820-1

CHAPTER 1

Despite the struggling economy, southern Louisiana continued chugging along. Quite a few pennies could be made by an entrepreneur with a quick mind and a little luck. No truer an example existed than the Downhill Freight Company in the heart of Dominican Parish.

On the first floor of a two-story building sat the main office. Inside the office sat a man with a few extra pounds around the midsection and a few less nerves hidden beneath the skin.

The sudden knock upon the door rattled the man as he sorted some scattered papers. "Come in, please," Ryan Lewis said.

A tall man with a lanky build opened the door. He adjusted his cap upon his head, hiding his thinning black hair. "You wanted to see me, sir?" switchman Augustus Jordan asked nervously, wiping the perspiration from his brow.

Ryan paused from his work as he faced Augustus, whose face lacked the humor of someone twice his age.

"AJ, my boy, we need to discuss some things."

AJ trembled as he stood before his boss, so much so that he held on to the doorknob, lest he fall.

"Relax, son," Ryan continued, sensing the stress in AJ's face. "Grain, petroleum, and natural gas are in high demand in our area. If I can get a contract with Ballard Chemical and the Bartlett grain elevator, it will mean big business for all of us. Our yard only has four GE seventy-ton diesel switchers. My question to you is, if need be, can we make runs to Jacob Parish, to the Gouldsboro yard under the Greater New Orleans Bridge?"

AJ pondered Ryan's question, scratching his chin while the strength in his legs returned. "Well, the switchers we have are custom-made for building trains, shuffling freight cars around in the yard, and those types of services. If by some chance we did get an order for a sixty-five-car train, empty or loaded, it will take all four locomotives to move it successfully."

"Great," Ryan said as AJ walked back out to the yard.

* * *

Conductors Robert Stake, John Roberts, and Justin Bruce stood around making small talk while they waited for AJ to return. As he turned the corner, the men straightened their postures.

"I sure hope that was good news," John stated as his weathered hands reached into his pockets.

"Yeah, man, what kind of bullshit happened in there?" Robert asked, his large nose wrinkling as he sneered.

The men's chatter bunched together, giving AJ a headache as he failed to lock on to any one train of thought.

"Shut the fuck up. It's not a definite yet, but if we get a contract with the oil refinery and grain elevator, instead of spending our days in this dusty rail yard, we can make runs to Jacob Parish, pick up and drop off cars in the Gouldsboro yard, and then transport them to the chemical plant or grain elevator."

The short, quiet man between John and Robert raised his hand. "When are we going to know something?"

"Damn it, Justin, I don't know, but I will keep everyone posted."

The men nodded and returned to their jobs, a little happier but wary.

* * *

On Friday morning, Ryan called the men into the office for a meeting. AJ hid his crossed fingers as he hoped for good news.

"Gentlemen, we have just signed a contract with Ballard Chemical, along with Bartlett. This means that instead of building trains and having another railroad company transport the cars to their destinations, we will transport the cars ourselves; our company will make more profit."

"Can you elaborate, sir?" asked Justin.

"The tank cars will be picked up from the chemical plant and delivered forty-five miles southwest of Downhill Freight to the Gouldsboro yard in Jacob Parish. From Gouldsboro, the cars will be taken to Ballard Chemical and Bartlett."

The men nodded, their spirits a bit higher than in days past.

"Our yard here has a capacity of 150 cars, with seven storage tracks that stretch for miles. The main line will always remain clear for inbound and outbound trains," Ryan explained.

"How soon do we start?"

"This is our first order," Ryan said, handing the waybill and release documents to Justin.

"The chemical plant needs thirty-five loaded tankers with various types of cargo delivered to the Gouldsboro yard this afternoon. John and Justin, take AJ along with you to make the run."

AJ interrupted, "Sir, I don't want to sound like a know-it-all, but this is going to take three of our four switchers."

"Leave Engine 243 here, and I will help Robert shuffle cars in the yard."

* * *

The three men rounded up the locomotives, connecting the couplers, attaching and plugging in a jumper cable, the air brake lines, and MU hoses from the first engine. Each engine was equipped with a portable reverse handle so that the engine could move in both directions.

The men made their final inspections, and the three-locomotive army headed to Ballard Chemical. The first engine was in control of the other two engines. On a cool November morning, a scenic ride through the country set the stage for serenity. Holding a steady speed of thirty miles per hour, the men passed farmland, oil wells, and a few spurs that led to no-man's-land.

John pointed at a distant sign. "Is that we?"

Pure Oil Industries 7 miles ahead

"No, dumbass. Look at your data sheet. Our destination is well beyond that point," AJ said.

The men paid no attention to the sign: "Loading platform ahead. Decrease speed to 5 mph." By luck, AJ quickly avoided disaster by setting the independent brakes to slow down the engines.

The main line branched off into a five-track storage yard filled with various tank cars.

AJ turned his head. "Take it easy, man; you don't see the three-track loading platform up ahead!"

The conductors said nothing as AJ took the controls and waved to the guard as they passed through.

"Rather strange that the loading area is on the main line," John remarked.

AJ waved a dismissive hand. "A little, but in these refineries, safety is the number one priority."

The three Downhill Freight switchers stayed on the main line as they entered the two-mile-long metal tunnel with wall-to-wall overhead pipes and walkways.

Midway through the loading area, a call came over the CB radio.

"Hey, guys, it's Ryan. Are you close to the refinery?"

Justin answered, "We are exiting the main line loading area at Pure Oil now."

"Good. You'll be there in about twenty-five miles. The gatekeeper is expecting you."

As the engines exited the metal jungle, the men saw the tall chemical tanks and main offices in the distance. Back in the country once more, the crew saw another siding blocked by a wooden barricade. Overgrown weeds covered the sign's faded message, and a termite infestation buzzed with activity.

An eerie overcast overtook the once blue sky. Highway 23, which ran parallel to the tracks, suddenly had no traffic. The sounds of the world—birds chirping, wind blowing through trees—had stopped as though someone had put time on hold. Even the pulsing sound from the locomotives seemed muted. As the three engines approached a siding, they proceeded with caution at a slower speed.

Justin squinted as a large sign came into view. "Does that sign say 'Bear Beer'?"

AJ turned his head. "Yup."

"Oh, hell, yeah! Beer!" Justin shouted as the train eased its way through Sunset Bend.

John was the only one not spooked by the stillness of everything. He was more interested in a foreclosed house on the east side of the blocked siding.

AJ looked out the right-side window to get a peek at what was at the end of the knee-high, weed-ridden track which curved sharply to the north. "Someone give me the binoculars."

With the extra set of eyes in hand, he got a full view of a mangled, sinister-looking locomotive. Unable to discern what kind of engine it was, he did notice it was an older model. AJ also saw an older man with a brown trench coat kneeling in the tall grass and weeds alongside the locomotive, his hands folded in deep prayer.

"What, you a bloodhound now. What did you see?" Justin asked with more than a hint of interest.

"There's an old locomotive at the end of that siding, but why would someone be praying to a train sitting in the middle of a field of weeds?" AJ asked nervously.

"Maybe he's got a hard-on for trains just like you," John said.

The moment's uneasiness put AJ and Justin on edge until they had traveled some distance from Sunset Bend.

* * *

Gradually, a sense of normalcy returned as the traffic flowed on the highway next to the main line. The sunshine returned, and a light breeze blew the trees along the route.

Now moving along at thirty miles per hour, the crew reached Ballard Chemical quickly. AJ still operated the controls and eased the engines to a gentle stop at the gate where fifty-four-year-old Marvin Moon offered a hearty wave.

Moon adjusted his horn-rimmed glasses as he squinted at the travelers. "Good day, gentlemen. May I see your waybill, release documents, and operator's license, please?"

John handed over the paperwork, which the old man scrutinized. Marvin returned the papers and directed the men to storage track number nine.

AJ exited the engine and threw the switch to track nine where the thirty-five tankers were waiting to be delivered. The two conductors gently backed the three engines into the tankers, fastening the automatic couplers. AJ connected the air brakes to each tanker. He noticed on the waybill that cars one through fifteen contained corn syrup, cars sixteen through twenty-five were filled with molten sulfur, and the rest of the tankers were carrying liquefied petroleum gas. It was mandatory that cars transporting hazardous chemicals be at least seven cars beyond the engine. While checking the last three tankers, Justin called from the portable radio.

"Hey, are we good to go? We've got to get moving. It is a good seventy-five miles from here to the yard in Gouldsboro."

"Keep your shirt on. Precautions equal safety," AJ responded as he made his way toward the locomotives. The switchman climbed in the first engine to join the crew, and slowly, after a rough start, they began the journey hauling hundreds of tons of freight out of Ballard Chemical. These three mechanical marvels pumped on all cylinders just to get a steady speed of twelve miles per hour. Blasting the air horn at every crossing, AJ sensed an eerie feeling overpower him as the slow steel snake inched past Sunset Bend.

* * *

As they approached, everything remained normal—the old man was still in deep meditation or prayer, John jotted down the number to call the real estate agent selling the house, and AJ grabbed the binoculars again to see the mysterious locomotive. There, in the bright sunlight on the weed-grown spur sat a six-axle EMD SD9, built between January 1954 and August 1959. The faded black paint made it easier to spot. AJ saw a number. Barely visible due to the rust that crept down the side Engine 319's front portion had been damaged by a crash of some sort, AJ thought.

As the crew reached the DHF rail yard, their speed decelerated to eight miles per hour. Justin had taken over the controls when AJ tugged on his sleeve.

"Stop the train," AJ said.

Justin turned to AJ, more than a little annoyed. "What?"

"We need Engine 243 to pull this train. These tankers are just too heavy, and it is going to tear these engines apart," AJ said, easing into the Downhill Freight rail yard.

AJ put in a call to Ryan over his radio, while Justin applied the brakes.

"Ryan, we need Engine 243 to haul these tankers," AJ stated.

Ryan's knowledge of the mechanics of locomotives paled in comparison to his more educated friend, even if AJ was self-taught.

"I still think a train is a train. Does it really make a difference which locomotive we use?" Ryan asked as AJ stepped off the switcher.

"As I said before, these engines are built for shuttling cars and building trains. They aren't designed to be used as long-run transporters of loaded freight trains," AJ said, nodding his head.

"All right, all right, I'll tell you what. Let me make the run with you so that I can see what's going on firsthand," Ryan demanded.

"Sounds like a good plan. Leave Robert at the yard to keep an eye on things. Let's just hope that the hydrostatic transmissions in these small engines hold out. However, I do think four switchers can handle it. After all, it is only thirty-five cars," AJ said, nodding his head.

"Very well, then," Ryan replied as he reached for the intercom. "Robert, bring Engine 243 from track five to the main line in front of the other engines."

Engine 243 had recently had a new hydraulic pump installed. AJ threw the switch as Robert cleared it.

"Back her in slowly," Ryan said over the radio.

The locomotives sounded like thunder as the couplers fastened together.

Ryan watched in amazement as AJ attached and plugged in the jumper cable. AJ also made sure the MU hoses were properly connected and that the brake lines were set.

Ryan had a great sense for business but not for getting his hands dirty. "And the reason behind this is ...?" he asked.

"Well, by doing this, the three other engines are controlled by the first. The entire train is now governed by Engine 243," AJ said as he puffed out his chest.

AJ exited the cab as Ryan and John climbed aboard. Robert returned to the office, and John was once again at the controls. John pulled the speed lever to full power to start off.

"Is that dangerous?" Ryan asked.

"Trust me, if I don't start out like this, we will never make it out of the yard. Just sit back and enjoy the ride," John said with a grin.

John and Ryan rode in Engine 243; AJ and Justin commandeered the other two. Ryan was not accustomed to the continual noise of the locomotive, so conversations were limited.

The train's speed got up to twenty miles per hour, and then Justin lowered the speed indicator lever to 4.5 to maintain the speed. About two hours later, after crossing countless intersections and rural areas, the crew finally made it to the Gouldsboro yard where the main line stretched for nearly five miles before the tracks ended.

Justin pulled the fifteen cars past the switch as AJ threw it; Justin shifted the engines into reverse and pushed the fifteen tankers onto track number two. The paperwork stated that tankers number sixteen through thirty-five were to be shunted onto track number four. With all of these cars now on the correct tracks, the crew worked to build a new train of eight grain cars and twenty tankers to be taken to Ballard Chemical and to Bartlett grain elevator.

John used his cell phone to call his wife, Karen. "Hey, baby, I've got a few minutes to tell you about a house for sale at a place called Sunset Bend. The house is perfect, and it sits on two acres of land. The real estate agent is Saint Arnold."

"I've seen that area, and I absolutely love it. I will call right away."

"I love you, princess," John said as he hung up the phone.

AJ allowed John to take the controls on the way back, after the new train was built. The journey back was pretty uneventful. Ryan was learning exactly why a stronger locomotive was desperately needed to keep the profits rolling in.

Meanwhile, the four engines struggled pulling the twenty-eight cars; however, no major mechanical failures occurred. The two-hour journey took a toll on the men, but the silver lining was within reach.

CHAPTER 2

The noisy engines kept up while John took a call from Karen. "Hey, babe."

"I spoke to Mr. Arnold, and he can meet us at Sunset Bend late tomorrow afternoon."

"Great. I love you, and I will see you when I get home," John replied as he put away the cell phone.

"Uh, troubles on the home front, my boy?"

John flashed Ryan a glare before relaxing his edginess. "No, no, on the contrary—my wife and I are house hunting at Sunset Bend late tomorrow afternoon."

"That is a lovely country area. If my memory serves me right, we should be passing through that area," Ryan replied, looking out the back window only to see black smoke belching from the second engine.

"What the hell is that?" Ryan asked AJ over the portable radio.

"The oil pressure is dropping. We need to take our speed down," AJ replied.

Decreasing the speed from twenty down to eight miles per hour did the trick. As the slow-moving train growled past Sunset Bend, John glanced at the house while Ryan spotted Engine 319 on the nearby weed-covered siding.

That monster can save DHF from possible ruin, maybe even bring in some new business as a curiosity at least, Ryan thought to himself.

After delivering the last of the cars to Ballard Chemical, the crew returned to the yard and called it a day.

AJ pulled Engine 160 to a siding so that he could inspect the oil pressure issue.

Ryan, sensing opportunity was knocking, approached John.

"John, why don't you let me drive you and Karen to Sunset Bend tomorrow?"

(Continues...)

Excerpted from DERAIL by Jason Bucklin. Copyright © 2012 Jason Bucklin. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Edition details

• Publisher: iUniverse
• Publication date: 2012
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 147595820X
• ISBN 13: 9781475958201
• Binding: Paperback
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 116