FanFic:Sodor Academy Part Seven: March

Next Part: Part Eight

Previous Part: Part Six

The seventh part of Sodor Academy, a Thomas the Tank Engine fan fiction.

Story

March rolled around soon enough. Most of the students' engines were nearly complete. The days were getting warmer and longer, and flowers were starting to bloom.

One day, Sir Topham Hatt gathered together all of the students in the Auditorium.

"I have a very important announcement to make. There is to be a festival at St. Pancras Station in London."

"London's King's Cross," snorted Gordon.

"Euston!" retorted Duck.

Sir Topham Hatt continued. "The officials have allowed me to bring students. I have selected eight of you: Gordon, Henry, Edward, Duck, Molly, Percy, Emily, and Thomas. I have contacted your parents, and arrangements have already been made. We leave in two days, if you wish to go."

Everyone except the eight muttered angrily. "It's not fair," said James, "that four underclassmen get to go and I don't. Hatty's playing favorites."

Thomas and Percy were too happy to care.

The big day came soon enough. Soon the eight were racing at the rapid speed of twenty miles per hour on the local train.

"I can't wait," said Emily.

"I can," said Edward. "I have to keep working on my engine."

"You're already finished!" exclaimed thomas. "You're just adding to it now."

Edward hurrumphed, but smiled.

Tthey arrived in London at dusk. As SIr Topham Hatt had left early, the students were expected to find their own way to the hotel.

"It's some hostel near the river," said Duck, holding the map in front of his face. "I just don't know how to get there."

"We'll ask the friendly locals for directions," said Molly.

"Well, we're back at the station," said Gordon, thirty minutes later.

"The rail yard, you mean," complained Henry. "This bad air is hurting my lungs."

""Don't worry, we'll find it," said Edward.

"Did you hear that?" cried Percy. They had just turned into a dark alley. Foosteps, not their own, echoed from the other end.

In the dim light, Thomas saw five teenage thugs glaring at them. "Well, well, what do we have here?"

"Step back!" cried Emily. "You don't want to mess with me!"

The oldest thug cackled. "Well, ain't you just a little spitfire."

Emily kneed him in the groin. The thug collapsed to the ground. The other thugs turned to the students.

"We could hold them in a fight," muttered Edward. "Eight of us, five of them . . ."

"Yeah," replied Gordon, "except for the fact that two of you are Edward and Duck. I think that me, Henry, and Emily could hold 'em, though."

The thugs all drew out pocketknives.

"Or not."

Just then, a vice from behind the thugs rang through the alley.

"Oi, what are you lot up to?"

The thugs turned. A tall teenager with a gray t-shirt and tattered jeans approached them. "Attacking harmless tourists."

"I'd hardly say we're harmless," whispered Duck, glancing at Emily.

"Ah, Stanley . . we were just having some fun."

Stanley came closer. "Lay off 'em, or I'll call the police. I know they'd love to catch you doing something like this. I don't hold anything against firemen kids, but what you're doing . . . It's just shameful."

The thugs slinked away.

"Sorry about that." Stanley took Gordon's hand, shaking it vigourously. IHe looked to be about Thomas's age, but he was much taller, and more muscular.

"You saved our butts," said Gordon.

"Just doin' the right thing."

"We're very thankful. Could you direct us to the railway hostel?"

"Oh, so you're with the railway?"

"We're from Sodor academy."

Stanley smiled. "I just knew you were Hatt-trained. He does a good job. My dad studied there, and he's doing all right as an engineer. But what can I say? Sure, I'll take you. I live in the neighborhood. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you my engine."

Percy stared. "You have your own engine?"

"Well, it's my dad's, but I was raised on the footplate. And he's so busy, what with the show . . ."

"Let's go," said Gordon.

The next morning, Stanley was showing them his engines. Although Thomas liked Stanley immensly, he couldn't help but feel jealous.

"I tell you, that Stanley is something else," said Gordon to Henry.

"Isn't he?" added Molly.

"We could use a few more like him at Sodor," said Gordon. "We've got some good students now, but he's got so much talent."

"He was showing me some modifications he'd made to that engine," said Duck. "He's a genius."

Gordon nodded. "He's way better than-" he froze, as if suddenly realizing that Thomas was only a few feet away. "Um, some of those fools back at the academy. I mean, have you seen Diesel's work?"

Percy raced over to them. "Stanley's a whiz at shunting. We'll be able to teach Victor a few tricks, I think."

Thomas just seethed.

Back at Sodor, Diesel was seething too. But he was seething because, while all of the other students had the day off, he was stuck in the workshop.

"Lousy Southampton. Him and that dumb green shrimp and that blonde moron from town. I'd be out now if he hadn't ruined everything."

That evening, he was finally leaving the workshop when someone tapped him on the back.

"Hey kid!"

Diesel wheeled around. There was no one there. Looking closer he realized that there was someone in the shadows. He had a shaved head. His face was obscured, but it had many scars and burn marks. And, oddly enough, where his arm should have been, metal glinted instead.

"I hate those kids too. Especially that girl. But the blue kid ain't that great either. Now listen."

Diesel was very suspicious, but if this guy had it out for Southampton, he'd listen.

"I'm gonna make those kid's lives miserable. Don't bother askin' me why. Just know that you could help. I'll pay ya big for it. You just gotta do two things."

Diesel leaned forward. "What?"

The man smiled. "One, ya gotta watch him. Tell me everything he does. And tell me about places where he goes with the blond, places he doesn't tell the others about. Meet me here every week, when no one's around."

Seemed simple enough. "What's the other thing?"

"Blue kid's gotta rope around his neck. Ya seen it? He's been wearin' it for a few months. There's a key tied to it. I want you to get that key- I don't care how, so long as the kid stays alive and he doesn't notice it's gone. Bring it to me, so I can make a copy. Then put it back. Ya got that?"

"Yeah."

The man grinned. His mouth was full of brown teeth. He cackled. "Excellent."

Back in London, Thomas had had enough. He hated Stanley. Not because he'd done anything wrong, but because he did everything right. He was too perfect. Everybody loved him. This just made it worse, especially because, for some reason, they always compared Stanley to him.

It had to end. And Thomas knew what he was going to do.

He didn't want to hurt Stanley. He just didn't want to make him seem so perfect.

Stanley had to carry a small line of wagons up a hill to another part of the yard. Thomas was on the brake van. Thomas had rigged the couplings on the wagons to snap, and had lubricate the van's brakes so that they wouldn't work.

The front wagon would break away, and there would be a small runaway. Thomas would leap out of the van, and change the points. The trucks would roll into a siding and hit a coal bunker. They'd all have a good laugh, the cars would be easily put back on the track, and Thomas would be praised as a hero.

Then things went wrong.

Just as Stanley was about to start, Percy got into the brake van.

"Percy, get off!" shouted thomas.

"What's the matter. Nobody will mind."

The train was gaining speed. Just as Stanley's engine hit the top of the hill, the coupling snapped. The trucks rattled downhill.

Thomas was at a loss. Percy was blocking the door. There wasn't time for both of them to get out, and if Thomas carried out his plan, Percy could get hurt when the trucks stopped.

Thomas shoved Percy out of the door. The trucks rolled past the siding. Thomas knew he had to get out soon.

Just then, the trucks started down another, much steeper hill.

"Crud," said Thomas, before he was flung to the floor.

The signalman saw the commotion and diverted the runaway, which he assumed was empty, into an old warehouse district by the river Thames. The train raced through an abandoned shed and onto an old pier. It finally stopped after rolling onto an old barge.

The van, in which Thomas was lying unconscious, and several cars were on the barge as it snapped it moorings and floated out into the river.