Beta Rig 7 was the last steam train ever to exist. Since the year 2039, modern electric trains began to take over in popularity. Steam trains were either put into museums or destroyed for resources, forgotten ever since. Beta Rig 7, however, was chosen by the US military to deliver shipments to and from bunkers, campsites, and bases. It was sentimental to them in a way, possibly because it brought them the victory of World War III, or that it was a staple of the country's unity after a flu-like disease wiped out most of us. Either way, it's used to this day, in the year 2059, and every day, at 4:00AM sharp, it wraps its way around a mountain near Seattle, Washington, delivering goods and equipment to soldiers somewhere unknown. It was on this day, August 13, 2059, at 3:58AM, that this train would change everything.
I was stationed as a patrol officer in Seattle on the North-Western corner of the city. My job, like the 15 other officers who share the same duty, was to act like a sort of border patrol for the city. It was my job to check every car going out of the city. My coworker had the job of checking people coming in. What were we checking for? The flu-like pandemic stretched on for several years, unfortunately, because it wasn't taken seriously. It's because of this, that me and my colleague are responsible for checking if people are wearing proper medical masks, sanitary gloves, and eye protection. If they failed to wear the proper attire, or didn't comply with our regulations, they were either turned around, or if it became out of hand, arrested and charged. So far, everything was working out fine...
"How are you doin' today, Sir?" I asked as a man pulled up to the city gate. "My wife." He replied, pointing to the backseat of his vehicle, where his wife was laying, shaking and groaning. He had a thick accent; It could've been Russian or Italian, but what do I know. I concluded that she was in labor from what I saw with my flashlight, but I couldn't tell if she was soaked because of sweat or of the heavy downpour of rain. Despite my hunch, I had to ask, "What brings you to Seattle?" I gestured to the backseat. "Please, we don't have much time. We need to hurry." He said, gripping his steering wheel in what could easily be seen as nervousness. "Labor?" I asked, "The hospitals are full so the military is taking people right now, but only if they're not showing symptoms of the Flu. You should turn around and head to Gate SE." I used my flashlight to scan the rest of the vehicle, and noticed a small, hooded child in the front passenger seat. It looked as if the boy was turning himself to the window like he was trying to not show his face. "Hey kid," I asked, "are you OK?" The man quickly responded, "H-He's alright. Nothing to worry about."
My partner, who was unoccupied at the time, comes to the other side of the car, knocking on the kids window. I could see the man being on edge. I pulled a radio out of my pocket. "Can we get a dispatch and an ambulance to Gate NW, please?" I got confirmation and looked back at the man. "The paramedics are on the way for your wife, Sir," I told him, "can you step out of your vehicle for me?" He slowly opens his car door, and steps out of his vehicle. He puts his hands behind his head, and as I grabbed his shoulder to move him, he turns around and pulls out a pistol. I grabbed his arm with both of my hands, and we fought for the weapon. His raincoat was slippery in my hands, and my fingers couldn't grip his arm. He yanked his arm away, and shot 3 bullets into my stomach. My friend, who was trying to get to the kid, ran to my side, punching the man in the face, grabbing the gun, and aiming it at him.
"You alright, Raige?" He asked with fear in his voice, powered by adrenaline. He crouched beside me, still aiming the gun at the man who was slightly dazed and lying on the floor. He tried to sit me up, but a sudden, sharp pain ran up my back. I screamed in agony. I saw flashing lights in the corner of my eye, and as I tried to turn and see, the same pain stung my neck.
My partner was completley focused on me now, which meant giving the man time to escape. He ran to his car, and slammed on the gas. His car crashed into the gate, severely damaging the car, but not the gate. He backs up and tries again, but like before, no luck. Realizing his defeat, the man jumps out and runs for his trunk, where my friend tackles him to the ground. The man, while wrestling with my partner, pressed a button on his car key that opened the trunk, and as it opened, my partner saw an entire armory in the back of his car. With this distraction, the man pistol whips my partner, knocking him to the ground.
The man grabs what looked like bricks, and planted three on the gate. The paramedics and two other officers rolled up behind the man's vehicle. The man tries to back up and ram the barricade that they made, but with no luck. Then, he pulls out a small silver tube. He grips it in his hand, and with a sudden hand motion, detonates the "blocks" on the gate. The explosion made my ears rang as I was flung several feet away. With the gate completely destroyed, the man rams the gate once more, breaking free, but at the cost of his tires.
My friend shoots at the vehicle's windshield in a panic, hitting the man in the chest, but also through the kid. The car swerves frantically before ramming into a tree, and as the paramedics rush to my side, the officers run towards the crash site. They pull the man and the child out, laying them on the ground. Both of them were alive, but critically injured. The woman in the back was unconscious, maybe even deceased.
They put me in a neck brace and lay me in a stretcher. My partner stands near the ambulance, rubbing his eyes with a look of disappointment, while also holding an ice pack on his forehead where he was hit. I signal with what I could with my arm, telling the paramedics to stop next to my partner. I looked him, now with tears in his eyes. We didn't say a word to each other, but we both knew what we meant by looking at each other. He felt guilt of some sort, but I assured him it was going to be fine.
The officers put the man in a stretcher as well, and as they roll him away, I could hear their discussion:
"Why the rush? You could've gone a long time ago if you would've cooperated. You could've even skipped the part where we put a bullet in you." The officer said. The man mumbled a word both myself and the officer didn't understand. "T-T-Tray." The officer looked at the man in confusion. "What are you mumbling about? Are you goin' to say you're sorry?" The officer said, jokingly. "T-The Tray." The man continued to mumble. "Is that the kid's name? What are you sayin'?" The officer said, annoyed. The man pointed to the mountain behind us. It was at this time, August 13, 2059, at 3:58AM, that the sound of a loud horn and the sound of box cars rolling on steel rails, echoed through the night. The man grabbed the officer's wrist in fear. He screams:
"THE TRAIN!"