A Long, Long Fanfiction: "There's You"

Hello! I'm somewhat new to this wiki, I just joined a few weeks ago. I'm writing a fanfiction. Not one of those creepy fangirl ones, don't worry, just a normal fanfic where I insert a somewhat-Mary-Sue into the world of Starlight Express and watch it all happen. I'm not really sure if I'm allowed to post fanfics here, but it's just PG rated, so I think it's okay :D Please read the whole thing! It's not finished yet, but the story gets better as it goes on! Click here to read it in seperate chapters: https://www.quotev.com/story/8630147/Theres-You-A-Starlight-Express-Story-CB-x-OC

ENJOY!!

Gyra sketch

C.B.

There's You: CB x Gyra

 

 

Chapter 1: The All-Female League

 

"Three. "

"Two. "

"One. "

"Trains gone!" Control shouted.

Gyra skated around the corner of the track. Glancing at the train beside her, she sped up as much as she could. The fans in the stadium cheered wildly.

"Gyra passes Annamarie!!!" Control shouted hysterically.

Kim-Vee, the Chinese train, passed Striker (the Scotland train). "The Cherry Blossom Express takes the Storm Train!" Control yelled.

Gyra zoomed across the turf, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She went forward at such a speed that the rails of the track shook when she rocketed past. The green steam train wasn't paying attention to what was going on around her-- all she was focused on was the finish line ahead. Gyra skated faster and faster.

Suddenly, her knee gears locked up and she skidded forward about twenty yards, then toppled to the ground.

"Gyra's overdone it- she crashes!"

She flipped over and and over, pieces of her armor flying loose. She groaned. A collective "oooh" sounded from the crowd. Gyra looked up just in time to see the other racers zooming towards her. She attempted to crawl to safety-- but Annamarie, the train of Great Britain, ran straight into her.

Gyra screeched in pain as Annamarie ran over her arm and shattered the metal rods. Oil began to leak sluggishly out of her arm. Annamarie looked back for a half second, unsure of what to do, and then kept skating. Kim-Vee of China attempted to stop and help Gyra. Striker crashed into Kim-Vee as well as running over Gyra.

A cloud of smoke blew up around the three crashed trains. Gyra was writhing in pain in a puddle of her own oil, and Kim-Vee was hastily trying to stop the oiling. Striker was unconscious. "Race cancelled!" Shouted Control. "Race cancelled!" The fans booed.

Gyra's limbs slowly started to feel cold and lifeless. Her yellow eyes started to close as her vision faded to a lonely black.

Gyra opened her eyes to the sound of fire burning.

She was uncomfortably warm, and lying on what felt like rocks. Gyra tried to blink away the blurriness that clouded her vision. She turned her head to the side-- and was met with the sight of her own arm in flames.

Gyra let out a scream of terror. She felt panic and horror rising in her chest.

Her green metal had been charred to a crisp. The steam engine tried to drag herself out of the flames, to no avail. She was too weak. Gyra felt her fingers being burnt off, followed by her hand and arm. The fire eventually spread to her torso. She panted and gasped as oil filled her artificial lungs. Eventually, she stopped fighting and let the pain overcome her. She was too exhausted to move or cry for help. Her extremities were unfeeling.

Gyra lay there for hours.

It was getting dark now.

The fire was the only source of light.

The sun had just begun to rise, turning the sky a light greenish blue. Gyra had drifted in and out of consciousness. The night had passed slowly, and there was hardly a sound from the junkyard except the fire sizzling. Her oil was still fueling it.

Suddenly, a faint rustling reached Gyra's ears.

She jerked her head around, trying to see what was going on. A small spark of hope ignited inside her. Had someone come to save her?

After a few minutes of silence, another sound was heard. The quiet sound of wheels sounded throughout the junkyard. A blue shape bobbed in and out of Gyra's vision. It came closer and eventually took the form of a female engine.

The new train, on closer inspection, turned out to be a freezer truck. The truck spotted the strange shape inside the fire. She skated over, slipping slightly on the rubble.

"Great Starlight!" She exclaimed. The truck grabbed a hose from her pocket compartment and rigged it up.

She sprayed Gyra down with it. The cold water shot out of the nozzle, effectively dousing the flames a bit. Gyra tried to croak thanks, but simply spewed oil out of her nose and mouth. "I am Volta," the new train said. Volta pulled Gyra further out of the dying flames.

"How did this happen? Who are you? Were you scrapped?" The freezer truck demanded. Gyra took a breath, opened her mouth to speak, and passed out, dead to the world.

 

Chapter 2: The Gang

 

"Oooh, is she awake yet?"

"Quit your yakkin', Dustin!"

"Calm down, Flat Top..."

Gyra woke up, but didn't open her eyes. She could sense other engines near her, but recognized none of the voices. One was angry with a thick Cockney accent. The other was British with a slight lilt. Gyra willed herself to open her eyes, and finally mustered the courage to do so. Her yellow orbs shot open.

She was met with two faces-- one on the larger side, and the other strangely angular.

Gyra lay completely still. "Where am I?" She asked, then cringed internally. It was obvious where she was. The three engines were in a tent, seemingly a medical tent. The larger of the two strange engines grinned. He had small dimples and a metal hat with a few bits of gravel stuck to it.

"I'm Dustin," he explained. "You're in Wrench's repair tent!"

"Oi, Dustin, give the 'lil lady a chance to speak!" Said the thinner one. He had bricks for shoulder pads and was carrying a flattening tool, along with fiery red hair and dark brown eyes. Despite his earlier statement of "let the 'lil lady speak", he continued to introduce himself. "I'm Flat Top!" He said loudly.

"Hey Rockies, she's awake!" Flat Top yelled out the flap of the tent. Three small box cars skated in.

"Gee, she looks terrible!" Said the one with the yellow stripes. His brow was furrowed in anxiety. The one in blue responded with, "leave the poor girl alone, Two!"

"Shut it, One! And 'oo might you be?" Said the red box car, addressing Gyra. She had barely gotten a chance to speak and was feeling cramped and overwhelmed at the amount of people in the tent.

"I'm Gyra," she said warily. "I think I was-"

Just then, a large, shiny truck came rolling in. She had blue plating that had a Red Cross on it, as well as "Santa Fe".

"Oh, hi Wrench, we'll leave you alone to get to work," said Flat Top in a completely different tone. His face seemed a little redder as he passed Wrench. He led the way out of the tent for the others to follow. Rocky Three, the red box car, lingered for a moment and then darted out behind Two.

The newly-named Wrench looked Gyra over. "What's going on?" Gyra asked, wincing as Wrench ran her fingers along her charred body to feel for further damage.

"I am Wrench, Electra's repair truck." Said the medic. Gyra's eyes widened. "Electra? The engine of the future?!" Wrench nodded.

"You have heard of us before, then."

"Only Electra... I didn't know he had his own component."

"You mean components," said Wrench. "I am one of five. There is me, Volta, Purse, Joule and Krupp." Wrench started removing the pieces of burnt metal after making sure the tent's flap was securely closed.

"Volta!" Exclaimed Gyra. "She's the one who rescued me from the fire!" She tapped her fingers impatiently. "Don't move," instructed Wrench as she took off the blackened piece of armor from Gyra's torso. Wrench quickly handed her a large blanket for privacy. She replaced the old, burnt prices of machinery with temporary new ones. "Can you move that arm?"

Gyra flexed her right arm. "Yeah, I-"

"Good." Wrench wasted no time in scrubbing off the char from Gyra. Just then, another engine opened the tent flap and rolled in. He was a red caboose with dirty blonde hair and sky blue eyes that were full of laughter and fun.

"Oh, who's this?" Said the red caboose cheerfully, straightening his hat. He fixed Gyra with a friendly smile and a little wave.

"Go away, CB. I'm busy," Wrench snapped. Suddenly, she gasped. She had discovered the small valve on the top of Gyra's head. "Gyra... You're a steam engine?"

"Yeah..." Gyra responded. "I know it's a little weird to be a girl steam engine instead of a truck, coach or car, but my racing league is full of them." She shrugged.

CB rolled over to where Wrench and Gyra were. "Wow!" He exclaimed. "That's really cool! I didn't know that was possible."

Gyra smiled at CB. "It's a bit rare, that's why you haven't ever heard of a female steam engine."

CB nodded. "Makes sense." Wrench then shooed him out. He gave Gyra one last smile and then skated off to help Flat Top with the brick load. It was once again getting dark. "I'm going to leave you here to rest overnight," explained Wrench. "Will you be okay?"

"Yeah, I will," Gyra responded. "Thanks."

Wrench offered a rare smile, and skated off. Gyra was left in the darkness. She ran through the events of that evening. She was still exceedingly confused at the situation, but decided to sort it all out in the morning. She would be out of this weird place in no time. She closed her eyes and slowly drifted off into sleep.

Chapter 3: New and Shiny

The next morning, Gyra woke up to the happy sound of train chatter. She sat up very slowly, blinking her eyes to clear away the spots around the edges of her vision.

Wrench glided into the tent. "It's about time you woke up," the repair truck said. "It's nearly noon."

"Oh," said Gyra blankly. "Sorry."

Wrench laughed. "Don't apologize. You've been through quite an ordeal."

"Yeah, I guess so." The sight of Gyra's arm burning came back to her. She shuddered. She was grateful to hear an engine approaching. A faint hiss of steam announced the entry of another steam engine. A brown locomotive came through the tent flap. He was rusted, with slight corrosion around his frame. The new train was wearing a headband, as well as a broken piece of metal for a chest plate.

He seemed to immediately recognize Gyra as a steam engine. He simply stood there in shock for a second, then rolled over to them.

He looked at her in surprise. "Are you a... Female steam engine?" He asked incredulously, fixing her with a light brown gaze.

Gyra ducked her head, a little embarrassed. "Y-yeah."

"I'm Rusty," the other steam engine greeted with a smile. "I heard that a new train had come to the camp."

Gyra opened up a bit for her fellow steam locomotive. "Yeah, they tried to scrap me after I crashed in the all-female league. Nearly did, too."

"You're in the all-female league?" Rusty said with a smile. "Was," corrected Gyra sadly. "If they find me, they'll try to scrap me again... Probably."

Rusty looked at her in pity. "The Marshalls tried scrapping me a couple years after I was built, I was in such a bad condition!" Rusty chuckled as if it was a fond memory.

"You still are," Gyra said bluntly, then slapped a burnt hand over her mouth. "Ergh! Sorry."

Rusty laughed-- a nice sound, like bells ringing. "It's fine. Happens all the time."

Gyra didn't feel much better, but nodded anyways. Rusty glanced behind his shoulder. "I gotta get back to the train yard. There's work to be done." With that, he gave Gyra another smile and rolled out.

"Can you walk?" Wrench asked Gyra, taking her hand and helping her to her wheels. "I think so," Gyra responded shakily, still rattled from her experience. She stood up and skated a few feet. Her knee gears still felt a little weak, but she could manage.

Gyra, with the help of the medic truck, rolled out of the tent. She seemed to be in a freight yard. The Rockies were rolling along, carrying coal to what seems to be a large dumpster. Rocky One looked over and waved. The other Rockies followed suite.

Gyra waved halfheartedly, hoping not to draw any more attention. Unfortunately, CB spotted her. "Hi there!" He called as his face split into a wide grin. Gyra found herself smiling back without realizing it. She rolled over to him, unwittingly drawn to his bright appearance. "Morning, CB!" She called, half-surprising herself at how she being social for once.

The brake vehicle pushed his helmet out of his eyes. "Oh, stars. Here we go. Another dumb engine just like Rusty." CB thought to himself. He took a breath and forced a signature smile.

"Hi," he chirped, pretending to be pleased to see her. He assumed a friendly posture and tone. "Hey," Gyra responded. CB was shocked to see that she was smiling genuinely. How foolish. She was obviously just as ditzy as Dinah, that car that CB had wrapped around his finger.

This only furthered what CB said next. "Hey, would you like to help with the freight load today?" He asked, leaning against a freight dump truck. "If you're feeling up for it, of course!" He sang.

Gyra, despite being an extreme introvert, absolutely thrived on a good challenge. "What needs to be done?" She said with a sly smile, cocking an eyebrow. "Forty tons of empty truck to be loaded with coal," CB explained. Maybe this new steam engine wasn't so namby-pamby after all. He was going to find this very amusing. But, of course, someone had to come and ruin his fun.

"No working for you today," Wrench said as she rolled around the corner of the train yard. "We still have to get you fully repaired."

Gyra sighed. "Okay, I'll just follow everyone around and slow things down then." She snorted. CB cracked a real smile. At least she had a sense of humor. Flat Top came skating towards them. "Uh, h-hey there, Wrench!" The brick truck stuttered.

His face went a dangerous shade of red as he waved robotically to the repair truck. Wrench gave him nothing more than a nod before skating off again. Gyra looked at Flat Top, standing there in confusion. She felt a twinge of pity for the brick truck, but decided not to say anything.

Gyra followed Wrench back into the repair tent. She thought about saying something about Flat Top, and after a few minutes of debating the pros and cons, mustered the courage to speak.

"What do you think of Flat Top?" Gyra asked, then internally face palmed. Could she be any more obvious?

Wrench simply said "loud." And went back to her work.

"So much for that..." Gyra thought.

She sat down on the repair bench and let Wrench work her magic. "Why were you scrapped in the first place?" Wrench asked as she added metal plates to Gyra's body for protection.

"I accidentally caused a really bad crash in the all-female league," Gyra said, feeling like she had already explained it multiple times. "I was skating too hard and my knee gears locked. I think they decided I couldn't be repaired and just scrapped me."

Wrench frowned, creating a furrow on her round, pale face. "That's a strange thing for the marshals to do," she said, deliberately and slowly. "Yeah. It is, I guess." Gyra mused.

"We'll give you a complete makeover so if they ever find out about you, you won't be recognizable and they won't try to repeat the process of scrapping."

"Sounds good," Gyra responded. She was already feeling tired from walking around that morning.

"What color were your plates and pads?" Wrench asked, looking over her supplies. "Green and gray," replied Gyra.

"We can do contrasting colors then," Wrench said to herself, taking out some pieces of dark peach and white metal. She held them up for Gyra to see.

The steam engine was too tired to care much about the color of her armor. "That's fine," she responded wearily. Wrench began the process of hitching up the metal plates to Gyra. She also replaced her wheels, taking out sharp tools that Gyra wouldn't dare to look at. Wrench also worked on her hair, seemingly dying it.

She sat quietly, waiting for Wrench to be done. Finally, the repair truck hooked up the last piece of metal. Gyra shakily got to her wheels. Wrench retrieved a large, reflective piece of glass to use as a mirror. Gyra took it and stared at her new reflection.

Instead of her previous dark green hair, Gyra had dark orange locks that corkscrewed down from her scalp. It was much longer than before. Her face was rounder and fuller, and she didn't look as angular. Her eyes sparkled yellow and were rimmed in thick black lines. Gyra looked down at her body. She looked well-rounded and stocky, unlike before, when she was scrawny and thin. She had white metal plates with peach and brown accents. She had black knee and shoulder pads, along with black elbow plates. Her chest plates were rounded and she was pleased with how she was strong-looking, but not overtly muscly. She also wore knee length black boots with her brown wheels underneath.

Gyra was extremely pleased with her appearance. They'll never recognize me! She thought. She skated proudly out of the tent, holding her shoulders back and her head high. All three Rockies' jaws dropped in unison. "Holy Truck!" Said One. "Language," hissed Two.

CB did a double take, in perfect comical timing. Gyra was pleasantly surprised at the wide eyes watching her from all around the junkyard. She walked over to Flat Top and Dustin to say good morning. The Big Hopper grinned goofily, nodding at her. Flat Top wasn't looking at Gyra, but was watching Wrench behind her. Gyra smiled to herself.

Suddenly, a loud beeping was heard from where CB was standing. The caboose held a finger to his headset. He clicked a small button on it. "Okay, I read you," He said, skating out of the freight yard. He came to a stop in a secluded part of the train yard. "Who're you talking to?" Asked a voice. It belonged to a diesel engine, skating around the corner of the train yard. He was tall and muscular with gold and black plating. His hair was jet-black with blonde highlights. This train was extremely attractive.

"Greaseball!" CB exclaimed happily. "You came!" The red caboose covered the speaking end of his headset with one gloved hand so whoever was on the end couldn't hear his and Greaseball's conversation.

"I wanted to tell you that your position as champ is completely secure," sang the red caboose.

"I know I'm winning this race. Duh!" Said Greaseball with an eye roll. "Who're you talking to?" Repeated the diesel sulkily, crossing his muscular arms. "It's Electra," the red caboose responded.

"Oh yeah?"

"He gave me a call. Hold on a sec, GB."

Greaseball frowned at the nickname CB had just called him. "Just remember whose side you are on!" The diesel growled, turning on his back wheels and zooming off. It seemed he had left just in time.

Another engine was rolling into view. Bright red, white and blue armor adorned him, and his tall mohawk was the same colors. The engine was very tanned, and perfectly proportioned. "CB. You brought me all the way out here, so whatcha got to say?" The new train said. His voice signified that he was entirely electric.

"Electra, I wanted you to be to first to know!" Simpered CB. He smiled sweetly at the newly-named Electra. The flashy engine stared down at him, waiting for clarification. "Don't worry about tonight's race. You're gonna finish first for sure, 'cause I'm gonna wipe out Rusty!" The red caboose chirped, grinning widely. "You?!" Electra said, shocked that the little truck was so devious.

"Shhh!" CB shushed him. "Don't want anyone to hear us, now do we?" He said, grinning from ear to ear. Electra snorted. "Whatever. Stop smiling and cut to the chase."

"I'm gonna crush that steam engine when the race begins!" CB proclaimed, spreading his arms in a gesture of confidence. "You can't do that. You're just a little brake truck." Electra sneered. Suddenly, CB's smile fell off his face as if he had been slapped, only to be replaced by a sinister rendition of a grin. "Ever wondered what happened to the train who crashed in '97" asked CB quietly. He seemed to be surpressing laughter. He looked up, even though his face was turned to the ground. Electra noticed that as the caboose was glowering at him, the pupils in CB's eyes seemed extremely small. This caused the larger engine to take a half-step backward. "Why do you ask?"

"His brakes just didn't seem to be working," giggled CB. Electra's eyes widened. "You mean..."

Electra started. CB nodded, his grin stretching, if possible, even further.

"I'm not Snow White, you know!" Laughed CB. "Well, I guess you'll make quick work of Rusty then..." Mused Electra, smiling slightly. This little caboose could turn out to be a real advantage. Electra skated off again towards his components, who had been watching the scene unfold from behind the iron fence. "Just remember whose side you are on!" Called the electric engine, not stopping or turning around as he skated away. The red caboose whispered to himself:

"I'm on mine."

CB was shaking, trying to keep in his joy. He suddenly lost all control and burst out into hysterical laughter, and couldn't seem to stop. Once he managed to get his breath back, CB skated back towards the freight yard, acting as if nothing had happened at all.

 

 

Chapter 4: Heat Three

 

Gyra had fallen asleep in the middle of the day after meeting various other trucks and cars. She was rudely awakened by the loud sound of Flat Top yelling at his pet brick to "obey" him.

"You've always been loyal to me!" Fumed the brick truck, right outside the tent. "Why aren't you obeying?!"

Gyra stomped out of the tent in the foulest of moods. She was eager to tell Flat Top off, but Wrench immediately appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. She gave Flat Top a steely look, and he went silent, his mouth hanging open.

Wrench turned to Gyra, her gaze softening slightly. "There's a race tonight," the repair truck said abruptly. "I was wondering if you felt up for coming to watch. I hardly even recognize you, so I think it would be safe enough."

"What kind of race?" Said Gyra suspiciously.

"The Uphill Final, for the championship of the world! Electra, Greaseball, and Rusty are racing." Wrench proclaimed proudly with a smile. Gyra felt the familiar excitement associated with racing as Wrench told her more.

The steam engine slowly started liking the idea. If she couldn't race herself, the next best thing was watching the championship she had always dreamed of racing in. "I'll come," Gyra agreed. She felt elation rising in her at the thought of watching a race.

Wrench smiled. "We'd better get going, it starts in thirty minutes!"

Gyra was slightly taken aback by such short notice, but skated speedily after Wrench.

Twenty minutes later, the truck and the steam engine were seated in the stands. They were looking down on an enormous racing track with dips, twists and a tunnel. Rusty was an anxiously awaiting the announcement from Control to start the race, while Electra and Greaseball stood silently and surely, both exuding auras of confidence. People were everywhere. Cameras flashed and fans screeched as the familiar voice of Control sounded throughout the stadium and race course.

"And now for the race that keeps going day AND night..." Control shouted, their voice echoing. "The championship of the world!"

Control counted down, barely containing their enthusiasm. Gyra bounced in her seat, wishing she could race against Electra as well.

"Trains gone!" The voice of Control yelled.

The trains zoomed away-- Rusty with CB, Greaseball with Pearl, and Electra with Dinah. Rusty was obviously behind. He was doing his best to keep up, but it didn't seem to be enough.

Despite this, Control yelled "Look at that Rusty go!"

Electra panted, speeding ahead. Dinah held on to his buffers tightly to keep herself from falling. Greaseball was flying across the track at an immense speed, the wind whipping his hair back out of its carefully-gelled position.

Rusty was slowly but surely catching up to Electra. His wheels were spinning outrageously fast. They all started to round the corner of the track. Rusty panted. CB could barely see with all the cameras flashing, but he could see that Rusty was gaining on Greaseball and Electra. As the trains came around the final corner of the track, CB purposefully switched on his brakes. He felt the immediate resistance in his wheels, and Rusty slowed dramatically. Gyra stood up. She knew foul play when she saw it, after all her years on the race course.

"Hey!" She yelled. CB didn't hear. The diesel and electric train passed the finish line at exactly the same moment. The two immediately came to halt and looked behind to see if CB's promise to them both had fallen through or not. It hadn't. Rusty had lost by a mile, and the race had ended with a dead heat between Electra and Greaseball. Pearl, the Observation Car and Greaseball's partner, had spotted the dirty playing by CB.

"The final ends in a tie! Rerun tomorrow, at noon sharp!" Control exclaimed.

CB waltzed over to Greaseball for praise and recognition. "Hey, CB, you did that good," Greaseball said approvingly. "Wow, GB, thanks! Did it look like I was holding him back?" CB asked.

"No way. It looked like everything had gone totally slack," One of Greaseball's cronies said. "Mind you, after all these years it should!" Chirped CB, blushing modestly. Pearl rolled towards them, her blue eyes large with worry. "Wait a second. Don't tell me CB is the reason Rusty went so slow..?"

"Of course it was. He had his orders," Greaseball said gruffly. "I'll go tell the marshal," Pearl hissed, narrowing her eyes. "He'll only suspend you if you ever tell. You raced too." Greaseball countered. He frowned disapprovingly at Pearl. This wasn't turning out how he had planned. Pearl wasn't too happy with the way things had occurred that night either. She stayed quiet.

CB, on the other hand, was as happy as could be. He had successfully carried out Greaseball's orders, while still remaining faithful to his promise to Electra. He spotted Rusty.

The steam engine was alone in the middle of the track, looking forlorn and utterly defeated. CB skated over to gloat.

"It wasn't fair!" Rusty cried angrily to CB. "You put on the brakes on that last turn!"

"Who, me?" CB asked. He then broke his innocent charade and his face split into an evil grin.

"That's the last time I race with you," Rusty growled. CB laughed. "That's right, the rerun is for just Greaseball and Electra! You call yourself an engine? You're no engine!" CB chortled with joy.

"Shut up," Rusty muttered after a few moments of silence. He hung his head and stared at the ground. CB giggled some more and said, "You're the slowest train I've ever seen!"

"Shut. Up." Growled Rusty dangerously. CB just sped off, laughing maniacally.

That day was a double win for the red caboose-- until he saw that a certain steam engine was rolling towards him through the heavy crowd.

"Hey!" Gyra shouted angrily to him. "What did you think you were doing? Were you trying to get them all killed?!" She said loudly, stepping bravely up to him. The caboose was taller than her, so she went on her front wheels for added height.

"Yes. No. Who knows?!" Chortled CB, his happiness overflowing.

"I'm going to tell the marshal," warned Gyra through gritted teeth. CB stopped laughing and made a small sound as if he was choking. "You can't," he rasped suddenly. "And why not?" Asked Gyra, shifting her weight to one hip cockily.

"They'll suspend me, Electra and Greaseball and they'll blame it on me!" CB pleaded. "That can't happen!"

"Why did you even put on the brakes? I could tell from where I was sitting that it was on purpose." Gyra was still fuming.

"Why do you care?" Sneered CB, crossing his arms.

"Racing is extremely important to me. I was in the all-girls league until I crashed. That's why they scrapped me," Gyra hissed. "So unless you want the same thing to happen to Rusty, I'd advise not doing something like that ever again." She stalked off towards the race marshals.

Who did this little engine think she was, telling him what to do and what not to do? "Wait!" CB cried, skating quickly after her. He held out his hand, hoping that this would stop her in some way. But amidst the roaring in his ears, CB could hear Gyra telling the marshal everything. CB stopped dead on the sidelines.

The caboose's mouth felt very dry and his stomach flipped. A very uncomfortable feeling crept up his throat. Gyra turned around, having finished telling the marshal her story.

The race marshal skated slowly and deliberately over to CB. "Red Caboose," he started, "this engine has just told me that you put on the breaks purposefully. That is considered cheating, you know."

Just then, Electra and Greaseball skated over to CB. They immediately spotted the marshal, and exchanged fearful glances. CB gave Greaseball a pleading look. "Help!" He mouthed. He then turned back to the marshal.

"Oh, no sir," CB said innocently. "It just happened. I don't always have control over it. I'm terribly sorry, sir!"

But the marshal was obviously not fooled.

Greaseball suddenly stepped up. "I told him to do it," he proclaimed quietly. CB's and Electra's mouths dropped open in unison. Since when had Greaseball starting owning up to his mistakes?

Electra hung his head. "I was in on it too. We all three planned to make Rusty lose."

CB suddenly felt very sick. Greaseball shuffled his wheels. Electra simply clenched and unclenched his fists, gritting his teeth. The two engines looked at the ground in shame. CB just stared straight ahead at Gyra. She met his blue gaze coldly and defiantly. The red caboose couldn't remember a time when he was more angry, or more embarrassed. However, he felt no guilt whatsoever.

All the while, the marshal was jotting something down on a piece of paper. "Greaseball and Electra, since you owned up to your cheating, you may still race in the downhill final rerun, but you will be banned from any further racing events..." The marshal started. Greaseball opened his mouth to protest. "...until further notice." The marshal finished. Greaseball and Electra breathed sighs of relief.

"And as for you..." Said the marshal, turning to CB, "You are hereby banned from all racing events forever, unless deemed acceptable for racing by law in the future. For now, Red Caboose, you are excused from your freight yard duties."

Gyra blinked. This wasn't what she meant to happen! CB nodded dumbly, and simply skated off through the crowd of people and off the track. Gyra stood there for a second, shocked. She then darted after CB.

"Wait!" She cried. The steam engine caught up to the brake truck. She put a hand on his shoulder and he whipped around. "I didn't mean for it to go that far!" Gyra said. "I just wanted you to realize your mistake!"

CB glared ferociously, but Gyra could see a hint of sadness in his sky blue eyes. He straightened his helmet. "Whatever," he spat. "You meant to get me banned. Don't even try to pretend you didn't."

"Like how YOU were pretending you didn't put on the brakes to slow down Rusty?" Gyra muttered. CB gritted his teeth. "It's my business. You didn't have to stick your nose in it, and you didn't have to get me banned. Now truck off!" He yelled, earning strange looks from the people around. CB didn't care. He zoomed out of the arena and it only took him ten minutes to get back to the train yard, he was going so fast. The red caboose entered the Engineer's workShop, a run down, barn-like building that the engines sometimes used.

Gyra stood there in the middle of the arena, at a loss for words. Greaseball passed by her, just shaking his head in disappointment. Electra had already left.

The little steam engine was alone in the track until Flat Top and Dustin came to get her. "Come on, Brick!" The brick truck called to his "pet brick", which he was trailing behind him on a chain. The little brick made no response. Dustin spotted the look on Gyra's face.

"Gyra?" The Big Hopper asked in his quiet voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah..." Gyra said, plastering a fake smile on her face. "Totally fine."

 

Chapter 5: No smile, Low Style

 

CB swung his feet absentmindedly. He was sitting on a large wheel in the freight yard, watching Flat Top attempt to flirt with Wrench, who was tightening Gyra's wheels.

CB had never been more mad. He was positively reeling with anger. He ground his teeth together, making an annoying SKRRTCH noise. The red caboose just couldn't accept that he would never race again. Gyra glanced over at him. He spotted her, and she quickly became very interested in her wheels.

CB mulled over the thought of being stuck in the Engineer's workShop for the rest of his life. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. It didn't work very well. CB was tired of just sitting there on the tire. He stood up, deciding to go to the Engineer's workshop to be alone. Gyra had just finished getting her wheels tightened. She stood up, brushed the dust off of herself, and rolled after CB.

"CB!" She called to him. He kept skating towards the engineer's shop without turning around. "Oh my Starlight, CB. Can't you just hear me out?!" Gyra cried angrily. CB whipped around. Gyra was frozen at the expression on the caboose's face.

CB's eyes were slightly red around the edges, and his face was very pale. The red circles on his cheeks seemed even darker than normal, making him look like a toy soldier. His arched eyebrows were raised expectantly, waiting for Gyra to talk. She took a breath.

"Look," she started cautiously, expecting to be interrupted. CB said nothing, so she continued. "I didn't mean for you to get banned," Gyra said, shuffling her wheels. "I just wanted for you to realize your mistake. I never meant for this to happen. The reason I was so mad about it was because I used to be in the all-female league, until I accidentally caused a huge crash. They tried to scrap me. I was afraid that the same thing would happen to Rusty, Electra and Greaseball."

CB stared at her until she had to look away. There was a long, awkward silence. "I'm... Sorry." Gyra said defeatedly. CB just stared. It was so quiet that Gyra could almost hear the gears turning in CB's mind. She noticed that the caboose smelled like licorice. He sighed.

"I forgive you."

Gyra looked up in surprise. "What?!" She snapped, shocked. Was she actually forgiven for causing this train so much heartache? She let his words sink in. Her face slowly turned from a frown to a small smile. "But I'm still mad at you," said CB, pouting and crossing his arms. He was still livid, but for some odd reason, it wasn't directly at Gyra. It was more at Greaseball and Electra for encouraging him to fix the race so that they would win.

"If I really wanted to ban you from racing, it would've been much more obvious," murmured Gyra very quietly. CB didn't register what she meant at first. "You were so nice to me the first day I was here. I still don't like that you cheated, but I don't exactly have a clean record either," Gyra continued, her voice low. She smiled a small, gentle smile at CB. The caboose was taken aback. The only people who were ever truly nice to him were Dinah, Poppa, Flat Top, and Dustin. All the others treated him like a pest or used his deviousness to get what they wanted, like Electra and Greaseball.

Still, he was angry that Gyra gave him away, but wasn't mad at HER, per se. He was simply angered that he had been found out. Suddenly, it hit the red caboose very hard that he couldn't work with his friends in the freight yard ever again, unless deemed acceptable by law. He felt like he was drowning in thick water. "I can't work in the freight yard because of you," CB said thickly, his anger flaring up. "I wish you hadn't told the marshal. I wish Electra and Greaseball didn't ask me to do it. I wish none of this had ever happened!" CB cried. He took off his helmet and threw it forcefully to the ground in fury.

 He sat back down on the edge of the wooden table in the workshop, burying his face in his hands. Gyra didn't know what to do. She just hummed a sad tune to herself quietly, unsure of what to say. "Will you stop that?!" CB mutter-shouted. Gyra looked at him and stopped humming. "They'll lift the ban, you know," Gyra said quietly. "They can't keep you out for too long. You'll find a way to get back in the race."

"You think so?" CB said doubtfully.

"Yeah," said Gyra with a gentle smile. "I do."

CB returned the smile, and for once, it wasn't at someone else's expense.

 

Chapter 6: The Downhill Final

 

The next day, Electra was still without a partner. He had talked to every truck he knew, and nobody was willing to race with a cheater. The electric train finally went to the freight yard to see if the new steam engine would race as his partner.

"No," she replied bluntly. "I'm not even supposed to be alive, how can I race with you when everyone else thinks I've been scrapped?"

"But you've had a complete makeover, no one will recognize you!"

"Still, no. They'll recognize the way I skate."

"But-" Electra started. "You won't be skating, necessarily, you'll be hitched to me. You don't have to do much. Please! I need a partner in order to race!" Electra whined.

Gyra looked at the electric train skeptically and mulled it over. "Well..." She started, milking the suspense for all it was worth. "Okay. I'll race. But If anything happens, anything at all, I am going to kill you." She growled. Electra nodded enthusiastically. "I mean, uh," he cleared his throat, "I knew you'd agree. Who wouldn't want to race with the engine of the future!"

Two hours later, Gyra was sitting on an iron bench on the sidelines, already regretting her decision to race with Electra. It was too big of a risk to go out there in front of everyone. The marshals hasn't seemed to recognize her, so she hoped no one else would either.

Gyra tightened her brown knee pads in preparation. She tapped her wheels on the ground, making a loud CLINK noise so as to distract herself from her thoughts. One half of her mind was occupied with the possibility of being discovered, and the other half was beyond elated at the prospect of being on the race track again. In the all-female league, trains didn't need racing partners, so the idea of duet racing was entirely new to Gyra. A large truck rolled past Gyra towards Electra. The truck had red and black armor with a pale white face and a hat. He was holding a very lethal-looking gun. Gyra recognized him as Krupp, Electra's armaments truck. She offered a smile to the bulky truck. He didn't return it-- only stared at her from behind his shades before turning away and whispering something to his master. Electra nodded and dismissed Krupp, who skated quickly away into the crowd. Gyra scooted closer to Rusty, who was sitting on the bench next to hers.

"Nervous?" She asked him. "I know I am."

Rusty, surprisingly, smiled in confidence. "Not in the slightest." His eyes seemed to shine with some hidden knowledge. "And I don't have CB with me, either, which is a plus."

Gyra was a little confused by his confidence, but happy that Rusty wouldn't be weighed down by CB.

"Speaking of CB..." Gyra started. "I talked to him yesterday. He said Greaseball and Electra told him to do it." Rusty frowned. "Hmm. Really? Well, I wouldn't put it past them, I guess."

Gyra nodded. "I really think-" -but she was interrupted by the voice of Control announcing, "Trains to your tracks!"

Rusty stood up and skated to his position. Dustin, Rusty's racing partner, gave Gyra a wave and a smile. "Good luck!" He mouthed before skating off after Rusty. Electra with Gyra and Greaseball with Pearl made their way to the track. Once everyone was in position, Control started the countdown.

"Three."

Gyra dug her wheels into the track in anticipation.

"Two."

Pearl gritted her teeth and clenched harder on Greaseball's buffers.

"One."

Dustin stared straight ahead at the track before him and got into ready position.

"TRAINS GONE!" Screamed Control. The trains shot forward. "It's Greaseball with Pearl, Electra with the new train named Schaft, and Rusty with Dustin as they come down from the high level!"

Electra sped up, with Gyra hanging onto his buffers for dear life. She decided to give him an extra push, and kicked off with her wheels. He shot forward, spraying dust and bits of turf behind. Greaseball was gaining on the electric engine, and Electra didn't like that at all. He suddenly jerked to the right, swinging Gyra along with him. The steam engine slammed into Pearl hard. Rusty let out a cry of horror as Pearl shook on her wheels.

Rusty skated harder and harder, not quite catching up to Greaseball, who was going abnormally slow. The Union Pacific train gritted his teeth and pushed off the turf harder with his wheels, but he went no faster. He suddenly realized that Pearl was just dead weight and was holding him back. The Diesel engine reached back with one hand, still skating his hardest, and uncoupled Pearl. The pink observation car went spinning towards the edge of the track, about to hit the side.

"Oh no! He's uncoupled Pearl, we have a runaway-!" Control said in horror. Gyra was shocked. The all-female league was never this dirty. Pearl flew towards the boards-- but Rusty swooped in just in time to catch her and send her safely into the sidelines. He quickly zoomed back behind Greaseball. Greaseball, unfamiliar with racing at such a high speed without a partner, flew forward so fast that he ran right into Gyra's back. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Electra was thrown onto his knees and the three engines skidded. They toppled over and over, getting tangled together. They went forward thirty yards and finally came to a smoking, sparking halt. Rusty and Dustin passed them without a second glance, and together, the Big Hopper and the steam engine crossed the finish line. A silence swept over the stadium.

The crowd was silent for a full five seconds-- then suddenly exploded into deafening cheering, clapping and screaming for Rusty. The fans jumped up and down, pumping their fists. Some were even tearing up.

"Against all the odds, Rusty is the champion!" Control yelled.

The little steam engine couldn't have cared less. He patted Dustin on the back and skated off towards the sidelines in search of Pearl. Dustin skated to the smoking pile of Greaseball, Gyra and Electra. He pulled his best friend out of the mangled heap. "Are you okay?" He asked Gyra once she had gotten to her wheels. To his surprise, she was laughing as she swept her hair out of her face. "I'm fine-- take a look at Greaseball and Electra!"

The two engines were groaning and getting to their wheels. "I can't believe that stupid little steam engine won!" Yelled Electra. "I can't believe I LOST! No comeback!" He screamed like a child having a tantrum. Greaseball simply lay down on the ground on his back, one hand over his face in shame. He seemed like he wasn't going to get up anytime soon. Rusty and Pearl came into view. Rusty was saying, "it's okay. I understand that you don't feel the same way. I just needed to tell you."

Pearl offered a smile. "I'm sorry, Rusty."

The rusted steam engine was disappointed that the car of his dreams didn't feel the same way. But the whole racing experience had brought them closer together as friends, and that was enough for him. He and Pearl hugged each other tightly. Gyra raced over to Rusty, being careful not to trip over Greaseball (who was still sobbing on the ground). "Congrats!" She shouted over the yells and cheers of the crowd, who had swarmed onto the track and were now heading towards Rusty. The steam engines exchanged huge smiles. Gyra closed her eyes. She let the familiar sounds of train chatter and the smell of the track flood her senses. Suddenly, she was pulled out of her reverie by the approaching scent of licorice. She knew who had come to talk to her without even looking.

"Hi, CB," she greeted, not opening her eyes. CB skated around her so that he could clearly see her face. "Good race," he muttered to her. Gyra opened her yellow eyes and smiled at CB. "Thanks," she said. CB turned to Rusty. "Hey, I shouldn't have out on the brakes when we were racing together." CB started. "That is to say, um... What I mean is..." He shuffled his wheels and sighed. "What I'm TRYING to say is, I'm sorry."

Rusty beamed at the red caboose. "I forgive you," he said. "You indirectly let me win by causing the rerun!" Rusty laughed. CB nodded, smiling. He spotted Greaseball lying on the ground still. He rolled over to the defeated diesel. "And just what do you think you're doing?" The red caboose asked Greaseball.

"Waiting here on the track for someone to run me over," murmured the Union Pacific train through his hand. He opened one eye and pointed it at CB. "You cost me my duties in the freight yard," CB hissed. "I know," moaned Greaseball. "I'm... Sorry."

CB growled. He was livid, and not just at Greaseball. The red caboose looked around for Electra, eager to give him a piece of his mind. CB spotted the electric train. He was skating around, yelling at anyone and everyone. His mohawk had evidently fallen off, and he grabbed it off the track floor and placed it carelessly back onto his head. He sneered at his components. "Let's go home!" He barked to them. The components scrambled into a line and followed Electra out of the stadium.

CB decided not to pursue him. He would talk to the electric engine later. For now, he headed back to the freight yard with Rusty, Gyra, Flat Top and Dustin.

 

Chapter 7: Caboose

 

The next day, Gyra finally moved out of the repair tent. Pearl took her place, having been slammed into the boards by Electra in the Downhill Final. Gyra approached the pink observation car to apologize.

"I'm sorry I bumped into you," the brown and white steam engine ventured. Pearl responded with, "It's fine. It was Electra's fault, anyway. I'll be okay."

Gyra was happy that Pearl wasn't mad. She suddenly remembered overhearing she and Rusty's conversation at yesterday's race. She decided to ask Rusty about it. Gyra gave Pearl another smile and skated off to find Rusty. She searched all around the freight yard. She eventually found him chatting with the Big Hopper. "Hey guys," Gyra greeted them, hoping she wasn't intruding on their conversation. "Hey Rusty, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure, what's up?" Rusty asked cheerfully. Gyra blinked. "What happened with you and Pearl?" she inquired. Rusty's smile fell.

"Well, um...." He started uncomfortably. "I really liked her and I was just hopeful that she might feel the same way. Apparently not, though. That's all." He sighed, shuffling his wheels. "I'm sorry," Gyra said sympathetically. "I was just curious. Should I not have asked?"

"No, it's fine..." Rusty said, looking up at the cloudy sky above them. "Hey, it looks like it's going to rain. We'd better get to the sheds."

Gyra said "I'll be right in!" And wandered further out of the freight yard. Rain slowly began to drop from the sky. A raindrop landed on Gyra's nose, and she sneezed. Rain always made her sneeze. The steam engine sat down on a large wheel that was sitting just outside the freight yard. She thought about Rusty and Pearl, Flat Top and Wrench, CB, the Downhill Final, and the fact that she would never be able to race again. She couldn't return to the all-girls league for sure, and would not be able to race in next year's Final either for the same reason. A wave of despair swept over her. A strange wetness started welling up in Gyra's eyes. She tried to blink away the tears, but they flowed fast and hot. The female steam engine cried very quietly. She sniffled. "I'm trucking pathetic..." She sniffed. The rain poured down, cold and unwelcoming.

Suddenly, she heard the quiet sound of wheels coming towards her. Gyra wiped her tears, but it wasn't any use because of the rain. The sound grew closer. Gyra buried her face in her hands. She was extremely embarrassed at being found in this state. She hoped whoever it was would leave her alone.

"Gyra?" Came the voice behind her. It was Dustin. She wanted to see him least of all. She couldn't bear the thought of the sweet Hopper seeing her like this.

"Gyra? Are you okay?" Dustin asked again. But upon closer listening, Gyra realized that it wasn't Dustin behind her. It was CB. She thought Dustin was the last person she wanted to see-- she was wrong. She wanted to talk to CB least of all.

"Go away," she murmured, sniffing heavily. CB stood where he was. "No," he said bluntly.

"I said go away!" Gyra yelled, looking up and turning around a bit so she could see him. CB didn't move. Gyra turned back around and sobbed. "Just leave already," she mumbled into her hands. She shut her eyes tight, wishing she could make it all go away. The tears continued. CB stood there, unsure of what to do. He suddenly got an idea. "Knock knock."

Gyra didn't answer.

"Knock knock," CB repeated. She still said nothing. "Knock knock knock knockity knock knock kno-"

"WHO'S THERE?!" Gyra shouted. CB smiled. "I am the Starlight," he responded.

"I am the Starlight who?" Gyra grumbled. "I just told you! I am the Starlight!" CB said. He rolled around to where Gyra was facing and did jazz hands. "That wasn't even funny," Gyra said, but she peeked out from between her fingers with one eye. CB smiled gently. "I know why you're sad. You have every reason to be," he said in a low voice, crouching at her eye level. "But we'll get it sorted out. It WILL be okay." Gyra looked up at him. Her tearful face was dark with worry, but a shadow of a smile appeared. "Th-thanks..." She muttered. Her face suddenly felt as hot as her arm had been in the fire. She looked away, and CB seemed preoccupied with pulling some peeling paint off of his metal. They both just sat there in silence before CB grabbed Gyra's hand and pulled her to her feet. The caboose held her at arm's length for a second, gazing at her glowing yellow eyes, and then grabbed her into a tight hug. Gyra recoiled for a half second, and then relaxed in CB's arms. The steam engine and the caboose stood there in the rain, never going to let each other go.

 

 

 

Chapter 8: Three Out of Four

 

Annamarie sighed and skated to the practice track. She had travelled all the way from Great Britain to see the Downhill Final rerun, and all she got was a lousy win by some little steam engine. "Beginner's luck," she thought grumpily. She finally reached the practice track and entered the arena. It was a much smaller stadium, used for minor and junior league races. The British train skated a few laps around the track to warm up her gears. Annamarie never tired easily, and her breath came in even inhales and exhales as she zoomed around and around the track. The purple National engine sat down on the sidelines to take a sip from her boiling water bottle. As she swallowed the last sip of hot water, Annamarie noticed two other trains entering the track.

One was obviously a steam engine, with corrosion around his metal. He was young, but heavily rusted, as if he had spent most of his life in water. The other was a pretty creature-- she had orange, corkscrewing hair and white armor that had an ivory stripe going down each side. They were both wearing brown knee and shoulder pads. The female engine saw Annamarie and whispered something to the other engine. Annamarie frowned. Were they gossiping about her? She hadn't even talked to them yet.

The two other trains began to skate around the track.

Rusty whispered to Gyra. "You're sure it's your old racing rival?"

"Positive," Gyra whispered back. She looked at the ground to avoid eye contact with Annamarie as they skated past each other. Annamarie looked skeptically at the new steam engine. What was her problem?

Gyra and Rusty were at the practice track so Gyra could "break into" her new wheels, as well as make sure her knee gears were mended well enough for her. It cheered the steam engine up a bit to know that there was always the practice track to zoom around on, as long as nobody recognized her. She and Rusty passed Annamarie, who was still on the bench. Annamarie felt like she had seen these steam engines before. She suddenly recognized one of them as the train who had won the Downhill Final Rerun. Rusty, was his name? She couldn't quite put her finger on who the girl was. As they rounded the corner again, Annamarie peered closely at the ivory engine's face. She had an peach-colored line running down each side of her face, and bright orangish-red lips. Annamarie looked a her eyes as she passed. They were a bright, shining yellow.

The purple and red British engine stood up without thinking. She knew exactly who this engine was.

"GYRA!" She shouted, skating after the two trains. Gyra didn't turn around, but not because she hadn't heard. She was immediately angry at Annamarie for recognizing her, even though it technically wasn't her fault. Annamarie skated faster and caught up with them. She grabbed Gyra's shoulder and whipped her around. "Where have you been?!" Exclaimed the British train. "We had the final without you! They told us you were scrapped!"

Gyra gritted her teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Schaft."

Annamarie growled. "Don't pretend. You know exactly what I'm talking about. What happened to you?" Annamarie asked again. She still held tight onto Gyra's shoulder. Rusty was about to warn her off, but just then, a race marshal came into the small stadium. Gyra exchanged a look with Rusty, and they bolted. The race marshal didn't seem to see them. His eyes were locked on the British train. The marshal skated purposefully towards her. Gyra and Rusty quickly left the track and bolted away. Rusty was a bit faster than Gyra and she struggled a bit to keep up. Suddenly, they heard "Stop! What are you doing?!" and a loud scream from behind. It sounded like Annamarie. Rusty was conflicted. Annamarie sounded like she was in trouble, but he couldn't risk Gyra being spotted by the marshal. Gyra herself couldn't care less about what happened to the British train. However, she stopped and turned around. She followed behind Rusty purely out of curiosity. The two engines reached the track again. Rusty got there first, and had to choke back a cry of terror.

Annamarie's metal had been ripped off, and oil was spilling out of her. She was laying still on the turf, her eyes glazed over. The marshal was holding her down with one foot. He took out a match, seemingly out of nowhere, and lit it against Annamarie's shoulder pad. He dropped it onto her, and the British train was ignited. The marshal dragged her off the track and set her down on the sidelines. Annamarie's face turned black and charred, as did the rest of her body.

Gyra and Rusty stood watching in horror, hidden under the bleachers. Gyra swallowed hard, half-wishing she could skate out and save Annamarie, but Rusty shook his head at her. Annamarie was gone. Gyra was terrified. Was this what would have happened to her if Volta hadn't come? And what was going on? Why had the marshal burned Annamarie for no apparent reason?

The race marshal clicked a small button on his headset. Then he said something that froze the oil in Gyra's veins.

"Three out of four."

Gyra knew at that moment that she could never be seen by anyone again.

 

Chapter 9: Gone, pt. 1

 

The next morning, CB awoke to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of the sun. Summer was nearing, and he was pleasantly warm as he sat up and stretched.

CB rolled out of his shed and into the freight yard. He could tell that today was going to be great. The red caboose spotted Flat Top. "Hey, Flat To--" he started, but cut himself off when he saw the expression on the brick truck's face. He seemed to be crying.

CB sensed that something was horribly wrong.

Flat Top was bawling loudly and sitting on a large wheel, with Dustin patting him on the shoulder comfortingly. Flat Top never cried.

The only time CB remembered that he had was when he lost his pet brick for a few hours. It later turned out that "Bricky" had blended in with the rest of the brick load. And even then, Flat Top had only teared up a tiny bit. CB skate quickly over to the two Freight trucks. "What's wrong?" He demanded. He realized that he sounded too harsh, and softened his tone. "Are you okay?"

"G-G-Gyra..." Dustin sputtered, not able to say any actual words.

"Gyra's gone!" Wailed Flat Top, blowing his nose on Dustin's hand. The Big Hopper seemed too sad to care. "When w-we woke up this morning, she wasn't around... We've been looking since daybreak! We looked everywhere, even the race track, and we couldn't f-find her!" The brick truck sniffled. CB was slightly unsettled, but he was positive that the bright steam train was just playing a joke. "She's probably hiding," he said firmly. "You know she likes to play jokes."

Dustin shook his head. "I don't think so," he mumbled. "She would have come out by now because of... Well, because Flat Top is crying."

"I'm not crying!" Flat Top sobbed. it was obvious that he really was distressed. "I'll find her," CB said determinedly. "You say you've looked everywhere?"

Dustin nodded. "Yes," he murmured. CB skated around in a circle, surveying his surroundings. Her wheel tracks were not to be seen. CB heard the sound of approaching wheels. They all turned around, but it wasn't Gyra-- it was only Dinah and Volta.

The two blue engines immediately rushed over at the sight of Flat Top in tears. "Oh dear!" Dinah cried, immediately swooping in to Flat Top to hug him. He sniffled into her shoulder. Volta simply stood in place with her nose in the air. "What's going on, CB?" Dinah asked. CB looked at his friend sadly. "We can't find Gyra anywhere."

Dinah gasped and clasped her hands together in fear. "Oh, I hope she's alright! Any clues?"

CB shook his head. "None. No wheel tracks, no nothing."

Volta spotted Wrench coming by. Flat Top wiped his eyes and sat up straighter. The repair truck immediately saw the look on his face, and stood there in shock. "Flat Top?" She said quietly. "What's wrong?"

Volta explained the situation to her. Wrench's eyes widened. She had grown very fond of the ivory steam engine. But most of all, she was worried about Flat Top, though she'd never admit it. She rolled over to the forlorn group. Wrench thought she was taking a huge risk by placing her delicate hand on Flat Top's shoulder, but in fact, she had brightened the whole situation for him. Flat Top looked up in surprise. His face turned even redder than normal and he stood up suddenly.

"Let's go find Gyra!" He said strongly with a determined smile at Wrench. She beamed back. "I think I know where to look," Volta said. She led the way. The others followed with renewed strength.

Volta led them through the train yards, the sheds, and even a part of town. After nearly two hours of skating, Volta finally let them stop. They seemed to be in a large junkyard. It had huge piles of old train and car parts. Dustin shuddered. "Gyra!" Called the group, cupping their hands around their mouths for added volume. They heard nothing but their own voices. They continued to look. Dustin searched from the outside in with Volta, CB and Flat Top looked along the outskirts, and Wrench went off on her own search. She rounded a corner made of old train parts and wheels. Suddenly, she gasped. She had found Gyra.

 

Chapter 11: Gone, pt. 2

 

Wrench stood there in shock. Gyra was laying on the ground on her back, with one hand held over her eyes. Wrench immediately had the impulse to pull Gyra to her feet and demand to know why she was so calmly laying on the ground in the middle of a junkyard, but the repair truck suppressed this urge and simply crouched next to her. "Gyra?" She whispered. The steam engine suddenly jerked and sat up very quickly. "Wrench!" She hissed. "Go away! They can't find you here, they'll get you too!"

"What are you talking about?" Wrench questioned, trying to help Gyra to her feet. Gyra rejected her outstretched hand. "I said go away," she repeated. "You have to get out of here. Now," Gyra whispered fervently. Wrench shook her head. No way she was leaving Gyra here when the others were so distraught. "What are you doing here? Flat Top was crying, he was so worried. Dustin and CB are frantic."

Gyra shook her head. "Me and Rusty saw my old racing rival at the track yesterday," she whispered. "A race marshal came by and literally tore her up and burned her. He said 'three out of four'. I know exactly what that means. I couldn't risk them finding me in the freight yard and punishing you guys for hiding me," Gyra explained, shaking her head. "I can't imagine what they would do to you. So I had to disappear."

Wrench was touched, but confused all the same. "Why do they want you so bad?" She questioned quietly. "I don't know," Gyra responded in a low voice. "But I couldn't just let you all get into trouble because of me."

Wrench sighed. "Look. I get how you would be worried. But they'll never find you if you just come back with us," she pleaded.

"Who're you talking to?" Came a voice from behind Wrench. She turned around and saw CB standing behind her. "Gyra!" He exclaimed. "What are you doing here? Why did you leave? Are you okay?" He said rapidly.

Gyra felt a pang of guilt. Was CB really that concerned about her? She instantly felt bad for making him worry. Flat Top came around the corner, wiping his eyes. "Flat Top!" Gyra said, hopping up to her wheels at the sight of the brick truck in tears. His face lit up and he zoomed forward. The red-haired truck collided with Gyra in a huge bear hug. "Gyra! Gyra! Gyra!" He shouted in joy. Gyra couldn't help but beam at Flat Top. She was touched that everyone cared so much. She was conflicted- should she go back to the freight yard and risk being found, or stay here and let the marshals find her and save her friends? She pondered.

Gyra made her decision. "I'm coming back," she said with a smile. Flat Top started crying all over again, Dustin nearly crushed Gyra in a hug, and CB grinned even wider than normal. Volta simply stood back with her nose in the air, but a true smile played on her lips.

That night, once Gyra had settled into her new shed and the lights in the train yard had dimmed considerably, Flat Top was still working on his brick load. He carried the heavy maroon rectangles into their places. Wrench rolled out of her repair tent. "Hey," she whispered. Flat Top turned around. "Hey, Wrench." He said, trying not to stutter.

"Um, I wanted to ask you something... About Gyra," Wrench started cautiously. Flat Top nodded, and the repair truck continued. "Do you, er, have... Like... Feelings for her?" Wrench asked. Flat Top nodded. "She's pretty much my best friend besides Dustin!" He said enthusiastically. Wrench shook her head. "I mean... do you, um, like her?" Wrench ventured. Flat Top couldn't believe the irony of the situation. "N-no," he sputtered. Wrench breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. I mean, not good. I mean-" she looked frantically around, embarrassed. Flat Top raised an eyebrow. "Why 'good'?" He asked. Wrench stuttered. "Because... Um, because...!" But she couldn't finish her sentence.

Flat Top suddenly stood to his wheels and smashed his rough lips into Wrench's smooth ones. Wrench was taken aback, but didn't move in the slightest. She soon leaned into Flat Top, and wrapped her arms around him. Flat Top stood a bit rigidly, not quite sure what else to do. He broke off to breathe, and the two trucks spent the rest of the night gazing into each other's eyes.

 

 

Chapter 12: The Revelation

 

Gyra tossed and turned in her shed. She sighed and shut her eyes tightly, wishing morning would come. She thought about the events of the previous day-- why were the race marshals so keen on wiping out all the female steam engines? "Three out of four" must mean that Kim-Vee and Striker were scrapped before Annamarie. Gyra was, literally, the lone survivor.

She turned over onto her side. The steam engine sighed again and covered her eyes with one hand. After another hour of restlessness, the sun peeked through a crack in the shed wall. "Finally," Gyra breathed. She now had an excuse to get up. She rolled out of her shed, completely awake and alert. Her gaze instantly fell on the figures of Flat Top and Wrench. It appeared that Wrench had fallen asleep in the brick truck's arms. He rocked her gently. "Um," stated Gyra simply. Flat Top looked up suddenly, but didn't loosen his grip on Wrench. "Hey, Gyra," he whispered, pressing one finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet. Gyra nodded and barely suppressed a wide smile. "Finally!" She cheered internally. She was happy for the feisty brick truck, and knew that Wrench would be safe and happy with him.

Gyra went through her morning routine of filling in for CB. She filled up the freight cars with coal and pushed them down the track. Eventually, Wrench stirred and opened her big brown eyes. She was immediately met with the slightly crooked smile of Flat Top. "G'morning," she murmured sleepily, leaning into him. Flat Top smiled down at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. It was the first time that Gyra had ever seen Wrench without her helmet on. The repair truck had short red hair and it framed her round face beautifully.

Gyra smiled again and left the lovers by themselves. She wandered over to the sheds again to see if anyone else was awake. Apparently, CB had just woken up and was rolling slowly out of his shed, stifling a yawn. "Hey," he said to Gyra, stretching his arms above his head and then placing his hands on his hips. He waited for a response. Gyra simply looked at him, seemingly holding back laughter.

CB looked behind to see if there was something else she was grinning at, but all that was behind him was a pile of old wheels, and he didn't find that very funny. "What?" He asked, confused. He looked around again.

"Y-your hair!" Gyra managed to say in between giggles. "It's insane!"

CB tried to flatten his blonde hair, to no avail. "This is the bane of my existence. Shed-head," he said, smiling warmly at Gyra. He noticed that her laugh sounded very nice-- a tinkly sound, like wind chimes. CB put his helmet on in an attempt to hide his "insane" hair.

Gyra stood there, smiling at the ground for a second, and then beckoned for the red caboose to follow her. He rolled out behind her, expectantly looking around. He spotted Wrench and Flat Top. CB and Gyra exchanged identical wide grins.

"It finally happened!" CB whispered to Gyra. The latter nodded and smiled wider before skating off to continue her work. CB followed. Just then, Rusty rolled out of his shed and over to the two locomotives. "Hey," he greeted. "'Sup," CB and Gyra said in unison.

 Rusty then smiled at something behind them-- CB and Gyra turned around to see the four coaches rolling towards them, Greaseball in tow. The Union Pacific train had his arm around Dinah and was gazing at her lovingly. She was waving at CB and Gyra while leaning into Greaseball. The dining car and the diesel looked extremely happy.

 Ashley, as usual, had a cigar pulled up to her full lips and was puffing out smoke from her top funnel. Pearl was avoiding eye contact with Rusty uncomfortably and continuing her chat with Buffy, who was nibbling on a red velvet cupcake. Ashley looked around.

 "Where are the Rockies?" She asked loudly. The three boxcars appeared seemingly out of nowhere and gazed adoringly at the smoking car. Ashley wasn't surprised in the least at the attention-- in fact, she enjoyed the Rockies' presence and adoration. Buffy, the eldest of the coaches (though still young), simply stood there and took another cupcake out of her chest compartment and nibbled on that one. Pearl finally mustered the courage to look at Rusty. She was met with a smile, and felt immediate relief that he wasn't mad at her for not feeling the same way as he did about her.

 Suddenly, the faint sound of wheels turning signified the entry of another engine. He casually rolled into the freight yard. This engine had black armor with yellow and gold stripes-- a race marshal.

Gyra felt the oil in her veins run cold. She frantically looked around for means of escape, but the only way out of the freight yard was where the marshal had entered from. Gyra started hyperventilating, and Rusty held her hand.

The race marshal glided further into the freight yard, unsmiling and looking around at everyone. He looked at Rusty and Greaseball the longest. He beckoned to the diesel and the steam engine to follow him. "Come with me," he ordered, obviously expecting them to do as he said without hesitation. "Now. Race requirements."

Rusty cast an uncomfortable glance at Gyra, and followed the race marshal out. Greaseball rolled behind them, completely at ease.

They skated through the train yard and past the junkyard until the group reached the race track. The marshal pointed towards a booth on the sidelines for them to go into. Rusty and Greaseball went in first, and were immediately greeted with "You two! Vat is the meaning of this?" from a large red and black engine sitting in the corner.

Next to him was a train with the French flag on his chest. "Rusty? What are you doing here?" He said in a thick French accent. This was Bobo, the TGV train. The red and black engine, Turnov, frowned at him. "They are our rivals, remember? The Final may be over, but a Russian never forgets!" He growled.

 Greaseball glared back. The other two engines in the booth-- Nintendo and Espresso-- stood silently, watching the scene unfold.

Another engine was led into the booth. He was tall, with green, gold and black plating. This was Ruhrgold, the German ICE. The Intercontinental Express rolled into the room, followed by a third marshal. "Someone tell me what is going on," he muttered, glaring around at the trains gathered in the room. "I have no idea," Rusty murmured back. Ruhrgold took a seat, as did Greaseball and Rusty.

"Alright," stated the race marshal who led Ruhrgold in. "We called you all here today because we have a missing engine. A steam engine, to be exact. She's been gone for a month."

Rusty nearly choked. A month? That was exactly how long Gyra had been at the freight yard.

Espresso spoke up. "Why are you telling us this?" He questioned in a natural Italian accent. Nintendo, the Japanese engine, nodded. "We do not know anything of a female steam engine," said the Bullet Train. The race marshal chuckled without smiling. "Exactly what you would say... If you were hiding her."

Ruhrgold stood up, knocking Bobo (who emitted a shrill squeal) to the side. "Preposterous!" The ICE train growled at the race marshals. "Why would we want to keep such a thing?"

Espresso winked. "A hookup?" He suggested quietly, nudging Ruhrgold with his elbow. The German's jaw dropped and his face nearly turned purple. "Wh-what?! No! Of course not! I don't know what you're talking about!" He said, the words coming out in an quick, unintelligible stream. The race marshal eyed him suspiciously.

 "I assure you, I have nothing to with this missing engine! We are all due back in our respective countries in a few days, why are you telling us of all people?" Ruhrgold questioned, trying to change the subject from hookups. The race marshal looked around at everyone. "Because this engine was in the all-female league of track racing. Therefore," he said, slowly and deliberately, "We have reason to believe that one or more of you may be familiar with her, and might know her whereabouts." The race marshal finished and crossed his arms.

"Why do you want her so bad?" Greaseball asked, feeling like he already knew who they were looking for. Rusty felt the same way.

"The majority of the all-girls league was steamers. Due to the nature of a female steam engine's build and gear composition, they are extremely fast. This was evidenced when the all-female league final, which took place a month ago exactly, turned out to be all steamers. However, the wiring and mechanisms inside a female steam engine are extremely outdated and ancient, and the gears lock up and cause crashes. This causes a rather explosive end to the engine, as well as the death of nearby spectators. The crash that the aforementioned steam engine caused was bad, but not bad enough to result in death. Although she could have technically been repaired and set back on the race track, the race marshals over in that league felt that she should be scrapped early to avoid any further deaths. It seems she escaped, and is now living somewhere with another engine, or engines. We need to burn her before she, quite frankly, crashes again and kills multiple people. That's why we so desperately need to scrap her." The race marshal finished.

 Rusty held his breath, and Greaseball's eyes grew wide. Espresso seemed completely at ease.

"Well, I haven't seen any girls around except for at the races," he said nonchalantly, leaning back and stretching. Bobo looked around the room, seemingly expecting to see the missing engine appear out of nowhere. Turnov took another swig from his bottle and frowned at everyone, as Nintendo and Ruhrgold sat in silence. "If any of you knows anything, you are to come to us and tell us everything." The marshal commanded. Greaseball and Rusty exchanged horrified looks. Everyone nodded. Just then, a faint scrabbling of wheels was heard, and a new engine popped his head through the entrance. An exhausted-looking race marshal was trailing behind. The engine looked around at all the trains in the booth. "Hallo!" He said in a thick Welsh accent. "Did I miss anything?"

"The meeting is over, Prince," growled the race marshal. The newly-named Prince just giggled. "Oh! Silly me!" He said, laughing off his mistake. The engines inside the booth filed out, one by one. Greaseball and Rusty came out last. Once they had skated all the way back to the train yard, Greaseball resumed his make-out session with Dinah, and Rusty went to find CB. He found the red caboose in his shed, playing with his helmet and spinning it on one finger. CB sat up at the sight of Rusty's worried face. "What is it?" The caboose asked. "Do they know?"

"Yeah," croaked Rusty. "They know."

Chapter 13: The After-Party After explaining everything to CB, Rusty headed out of the yard. He, Greaseball and Electra were due at the so-called "After-Final celebration", hosted by none other than Control. Rusty stopped by Poppa's place to thank him while Greaseball and Electra (components in tow) went on ahead. Rusty spotted the old steamer playing a harmonica while sitting on a bench to rest his back. "Poppa?" Rusty whispered, afraid he would frighten the old steam engine. Poppa looked up and smiled warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. Rusty smiled back and rolled over to him. "What is it, Rusty?" Poppa asked in his gentle and slightly gravelly voice. "I was in the middle of playin' my mouth organ."Rusty sat down beside him. "I just wanted to thank you," he said. "For helping me with the race. Starlight Express and all."Poppa shook his head. "Don't thank me, boy!" He said. "Only you had the power within you." Rusty nodded. "Now, the way I hear it," Poppa said, looking at an old watch on his wrist, "you've got yerself a party to go to.""Yeah," Rusty agreed, standing up. "But still. Thank you." And with a last smiling exchange, the two steamers parted ways. The party was for the racers and their partners only. Gyra, of course, hung back and told Electra to tell the others that she had a headache. He agreed, and told them just that when he entered the building. It was the first building he had been in for a very long time, seeing as he spent most of his time in his own train yard or on the race track. Electra stuck close to his components.Turnov was already tipsy, as was obvious when he sauntered over to Bobo and whispered very quietly in the French train's ear, "Wakey wakey, little girl!", which of course made no sense at all. Bobo jumped and whipped around, shocked at how rude the Russian train was. "I beg your PARDON, Monsieur!" Bobo screeched, appalled. He smacked Turnov across the cheek. Turnov grinned stupidly and rolled away again. Over in the corner of the large room, Nintendo was on the lookout for Greaseball. The Japanese train was eager to give the Union Pacific a piece of his mind for beating him in heat one. Nintendo skated around the room, casually nodding at people as they passed, and spotted Greaseball. "Yes..." Nintendo hissed to himself as the diesel made his way towards the table where Nintendo had sat down. "NO! NO! NO!" The Bullet train screamed internally as he saw Greaseball just heading to the buffet. Across the room, Ruhrgold was munching on some chips. He spotted The Prince of Wales coming towards him. The German engine frantically looked for someone to bail him out of the annoying welsh train's company, but the only people near were the components. "Hey, Ruhry!" Came the voice from behind him. Ruhrgold slowly turned around to face Prince, his smile forced and his right eye twitching. "Bloody hell, Ruhrgold, you don't look so good! Maybe you ought to go to your shed and rest up!" Prince said, completely oblivious. "I'm fine!" Ruhrgold squeaked, his voice coming out high-pitched. He cleared his throat. "Look, Prince, there's Espresso over there! Why don't you go talk to him?" Ruhrgold suggested casually. The train from Great Britain didn't get what he was hinting at, but chirped "okay!" And headed off over to Espresso. The Italian train was flirting with Ashley, and not unsuccessfully. He spotted Prince coming their way. "Uh, let's go get drinks, my beautiful flower!" He suddenly exclaimed, pulling on Ashley's skirt to follow him. Prince stood there, confused on why nobody wanted to talk to him. He spotted Bobo, who was sipping delicately from a small drinking glass, even though it was filled with nothing but boiling water. Prince rolled over to the French train. Bobo was murmuring a song to himself-- something about "beyond the barricade"-- that Prince was too excited to pay attention to. He tapped Bobo on the shoulder. The orange TGV train spat out his water and turned around. "Oh!" He gasped, pressing a hand to his heart dramatically. "You startled me, Monsieur!""Sorry," Prince said, not paying attention to what Bobo was saying. "But the presentations are about to begin!" The French train perked up and stood on his front wheels to see over the crowd. A small human child had emerged from nowhere. The trains stood back. Who was this little child? What was it doing in the middle of their party?The child had on red pajamas with little pictures of trains on them and no shoes or socks. They had actual human skin and disheveled brown hair. Beautiful brown eyes gazed at the trains lovingly. The human opened their mouth to speak. "I am Control," they said. The trains immediately relaxed at the familiar sound of their commentator's voice. Despite their earlier questions, the engines all fell under the spell of Control's voice and felt instantly at ease. The trains didn't question why Control was a human, why they were a child, or why they were wearing ridiculous human clothes. All they knew was that all was right in the world because Control had graced them with a visit. There were a few other humans in the room- one was a large man with no hair and a top hat. He was guiding an anxious-looking green engine into the room. "Come along, Percy," said the man. Nobody knew why that human and the new engine were there, but quite frankly, they couldn't care less. Their fearless commentator Control was in the room, so all was well. "I've come for your small celebration. But only for a few minutes, there is business I must attend to." Control said, their voice far too knowledgable and wise for their age. The trains unwittingly started to chant "Con-trol! Con-trol! Con-trol!".Control held up their small hand for silence. "Rusty," they started, nailing the steam engine with their brown gaze. "Come here." Rusty rolled to Control obediently. He was a few feet taller than the child, but nobody seemed to notice or care. "You won the Final. The odds were stacked against you, and you still pulled through and won the race." Control smiled for the first time that night-- a beautiful, genuine smile. "I congratulate you." And with that, Control abandoned all manners and hugged Rusty's leg tightly. Rusty leaned down and wrapped his arms around the child. Control's warmth was something not usually found in other trains, and Rusty enjoyed it immensely. The other engines, even Electra and Greaseball, cheered. Control broke away and grinned up at Rusty, who smiled back. Control then got out a small object from their pajama shirt pocket. They held it up for Rusty to see. It was a small, star-shaped sticker. Control beckoned for Rusty to lean down again. The child stuck the sticker onto Rusty's chest plate. The silence was broken only by the sound of Turnov sobbing hysterically. Krupp sniffled and tried to cover it up with a fake cough. Purse, Electra's money truck, patted him on the back comfortingly. Control smiled around at the trains and suddenly shouted "let's get this par-tay STARTED!"The lights instantly went down and neon laser lights turned on. The neon flickered over the engines and Control. The child seemed to be swept away into the crowd, and dissappeared.

That's all I have so far. Please let me know if you liked it!