The Gambler’s Den was born from the Eiferian 433, an ore hauler that had seen plenty of use during the beginning of Surenth’s industrial boom. Found in a scrapheap, its restoration became the key element in Franco’s pursuit of a better tomorrow, its renovation instigated by Franco’s long-suffering grandfather better known as Pappy. This extended sequence showed their celebration upon their success, as well as foreshadowing the dangerous quirk that Misu was unaware of – one that would bring about its ruin.
Everything was looking good. It was actually looking good.
Pappy held the throttle carefully, knuckles white in anticipation, almost afraid to let it go. The main and piston rods did their thing, encouraging the colossal train wheels to complete a full rotation. The train heaved forward ever so slowly, gently advancing along the track. Franco hung himself half from the cab window, staring down as they passed over the sand-dusted ground. Drawing himself back inside, Franco found that he couldn’t stop laughing.
‘She’s moving!’ he yelled in elation. Finally, Pappy reciprocated the expression, checking the various gauges laid out before him. He reached out and began to spin a red valve, watching one of the gauges climb slowly before it tapered off. He leant out of his window and extended one arm, looking further down the track and spotting an obstruction.
‘Well? Get your ass out there and open the gate to the yard, otherwise we’ll go right through it,’ Pappy ordered.
Eagerly, Franco leapt down the steps of the engine cab and sprinted parallel to the tracks through the junkyard. He leapt over random pieces of debris that had been discarded without care or had simply rolled free of their designated pile due to the region’s winds. He reached the large chain-link gate where the yard ended and an expanse of open desert began. Franco heaved back numerous bolts and heaved open the gate itself with great effort, first one side, then the other, jumping the tracks.
The train continued its slow advance as Franco returned to it, caught hold of the assisting bar and pulled himself up to the steps of the footplate, utterly exhilarated. The vehicle picked up speed with a slight jerk as Pappy eased the throttle bar forward.
‘That’s better. Ready?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Let’s take her out.’ Pappy beamed through his snow-white whiskers.
The train funnel exploded with steam as the Eiferian 433 began to pick up the pace. It took a brisk trundle out of the yard, navigating its first bend, and chugged along the track, slowly gaining even more speed. As it left the confines of the junkyard where it had lain rotting for years, the train was born anew.
After Pappy checked everything more times than he could count, the old man finally relaxed at the controls and let the experience wash over him. Franco eased into his grandfather’s view. The boy couldn’t understand what it felt like to be reunited with such an engine after so long – but he clearly wanted to gain an impression by asking.
‘How does it feel?’
‘Despite the years I have collected for my own, I assure you, there is a younger man standing before you now. No matter what time tries to make irrelevant, it just takes the right ingredients to paint time as a fool.’ Pappy nodded to himself, his memories spurred on by the assault of smells and sights. Camaraderie was wonderful for sure, but to share this experience with his grandson made it something more potent. ‘Here, boy. Come and get a feel for it,’ Pappy offered.
‘Are you serious?’
‘Sure. You put your share of toil into getting her running once again. It’s only right. Don’t make me regret my decision now. Get moving.’
Franco cautiously stepped past the burning heat from the firebox, abuzz with excitement. He placed his hands where he was told, the throttle being his primary concern. With guidance and a gentle ease forward, the train breathed new life once more. It sent him giggling in delight.
The Eiferian 433 picked up the pace. Despite its battered appearance, for it was yet to be given new colours, it managed to catch the sight of those who had not witnessed a train take to this line on the outskirts of town in some time – years possibly.
‘Come on, is this all she can do? Let’s open her up!’ Franco’s excitement was getting the best of him.
‘Don’t get so eager. You can’t just run her hot, it doesn’t work like that. Corner coming up. Slow ’er down a spell; ease the throttle back.’
Despite the advice, Franco’s hand remained steadfast upon the throttle, unwavering and blinkered to the track.
‘What, you don’t think we can take that turn?’
‘We can if we want to jump the tracks and send ourselves down the ridge! Now ease it off before you ruin all of our hard work! Don’t make me repeat myself, boy!’ came the sharp response.
Boy. Only Pappy still called him that.
‘Okay, okay, easing,’ Franco sheepishly conceded, and pulled back a little, reducing their speed. The train drifted around the corner lazily. Finally, the tense silence was broken by Pappy’s explanation.
‘You best be careful! Keep this in your head every time you step in here: a train can’t complain about you being too rough with her until the damage is done. If in doubt, keep it simple, keep it slow. Look after her well, and the times when you need to push her, she’ll comply. Treat her wrong and it’ll be a world of troubles from end to end. Do you understand that?’
‘Yeah. I got it,’ Franco replied meekly.
‘Good. Now keep this speed until we reach the flats. Should be coming up on them past this ridge.’
‘What then?’
‘Then you get your wish. We’ll finally see exactly what this old girl is capable of.’ Pappy leant out of the cab window, taking in the shifting warm breeze. It blasted away years of his life, back to a time when his fingers were younger and didn’t ache as he gripped on to a tool. When all there was, was the job at hand. When life was a simple trek from one point to another. As soon as they cleared the bridge over one of the smaller ridges, Pappy gave the signal.
With a slow heave, Franco opened up the throttle, keeping a close eye on the gauges before him, even though he didn’t understand completely how to read them yet. Things were seemingly steady and that was enough for him to simply enjoy the powerful rush of acceleration, as if a team of keen horses were contained in the boiler, dragging the metal onward in haste. The train exploded across the landscape with little restraint, with blasts of smoke and steam painting the patchy afternoon sky in equal quantities.
‘She moves, I’ll give her that!’ Franco called over the wind.
‘Aye, that she does!’ Pappy agreed. ‘Everything is looking good. There’s an old checkpoint this way where a buddy of mine runs a supply shed. I figure we can drop in and surprise him with a hello. Won’t take more than an hour. That is, if you’re not concerned about being somewhere else.’
‘Knock it off, old man, you’re fooling no one with that talk.’
Pappy watched Franco burst out laughing.
‘This is … it’s simply incredible!’
Franco yanked hard on the whistle cord, making the train announce itself in a shrill blast. He wanted everyone in the surrounding territories to know of their presence. Let it be known that the Eiferian 433 was triumphant in its resurrection!
‘Ain’t it just? Nobody around us for as far as we can see. Masters of our own destiny! It’s a thrill, boy! This is what makes life worth living!’ Pappy slapped the cab wall in delight, beaming before his smile dropped and his face creased in concern. A finger tapped the pressure gauge and Pappy’s brow fell. The needle was bouncing all over the