Valley of Despair - 1
Steve would never get used to the buzzing at all hours of the day and night. He pawed around in the dark for a second before finally silencing the alarm on his phone. Slowly, almost painfully, he opened his eyes and let them adjust to the darkness of the room. He took a moment to collect himself, stretching as he did so. Once again he bumbled around on his bedside table for his phone, picked it up and hit the power button. The harsh glow of the screen caused him to wince, but he was able to read the time anyway. 11:13 p.m.
"This is going to be a long night," Steve said, to no one in particular.
He had received a call and hour prior that he was on duty that night, and had tried to get in a little sleep before he had to get ready and leave for the train yard. He knew he was close to being called out for a job and should have gone to bed earlier, but he foolishly stayed up watching some horror movie and had just lied down to rest a few minutes before the phone rang. Steve was regretting that decision now, as he slowly willed himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a quick shower.
After cleaning up and throwing down a quick "breakfast" of leftovers that he had in the refrigerator, Steve packed up his essentials for the trip. He'd done these trips so much over the past years that he knew his routine by heart, but always had to double check to make sure he didn't forget anything important. Clothes were packed, and toiletries were in their small carrying case. Extra set of clothes, in case the trip ran long. He could usually count on being home in a day or two, but there was the odd chance that his trip over and back could take longer. Steve felt foolish the first time this happened and he was caught unprepared. He was sure that the engineer didn't appreciate the aroma his three-day old clothes were probably giving off on the return trip.
After verifying he had everything he needed, Steve walked to his bookcase and bent down, looking over the multitude of books that littered the shelves. Reading wasn't allowed during trips, but no one really adhered to that rule. When the trains were stopped in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do but wait for traffic to clear the rails, many of the crewmen turned to things they weren't supposed to do to occupy their time. Either that or sleep.
"Maybe a thriller this time," Steve said to himself as he lightly slid his finger across the bindings of a dozen or so books. He finally grabbed one that piqued his interest and packed it away in his bag.
Steve arrived at the train depot a few minutes past one in the morning. It was a small, unassuming one-story building, with the words Pacific Northern plastered on the side. Beyond the building were a mass of interlinked rails where train engines were parked and train cars were stored until they were taken elsewhere. Steve often wondered how much the goods and merchandise were worth that moved through that yard on any given day. Millions, possibly billions? He was sure someone at headquarters knew. If he was paid to help transport all of it somewhere, he was sure that someone was paid to know how much it was all worth. And they were probably paid well.
"This is going to be a long night," Steve said, to no one in particular.
He had received a call and hour prior that he was on duty that night, and had tried to get in a little sleep before he had to get ready and leave for the train yard. He knew he was close to being called out for a job and should have gone to bed earlier, but he foolishly stayed up watching some horror movie and had just lied down to rest a few minutes before the phone rang. Steve was regretting that decision now, as he slowly willed himself out of bed and into the bathroom for a quick shower.
After cleaning up and throwing down a quick "breakfast" of leftovers that he had in the refrigerator, Steve packed up his essentials for the trip. He'd done these trips so much over the past years that he knew his routine by heart, but always had to double check to make sure he didn't forget anything important. Clothes were packed, and toiletries were in their small carrying case. Extra set of clothes, in case the trip ran long. He could usually count on being home in a day or two, but there was the odd chance that his trip over and back could take longer. Steve felt foolish the first time this happened and he was caught unprepared. He was sure that the engineer didn't appreciate the aroma his three-day old clothes were probably giving off on the return trip.
After verifying he had everything he needed, Steve walked to his bookcase and bent down, looking over the multitude of books that littered the shelves. Reading wasn't allowed during trips, but no one really adhered to that rule. When the trains were stopped in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to do but wait for traffic to clear the rails, many of the crewmen turned to things they weren't supposed to do to occupy their time. Either that or sleep.
"Maybe a thriller this time," Steve said to himself as he lightly slid his finger across the bindings of a dozen or so books. He finally grabbed one that piqued his interest and packed it away in his bag.
Steve arrived at the train depot a few minutes past one in the morning. It was a small, unassuming one-story building, with the words Pacific Northern plastered on the side. Beyond the building were a mass of interlinked rails where train engines were parked and train cars were stored until they were taken elsewhere. Steve often wondered how much the goods and merchandise were worth that moved through that yard on any given day. Millions, possibly billions? He was sure someone at headquarters knew. If he was paid to help transport all of it somewhere, he was sure that someone was paid to know how much it was all worth. And they were probably paid well.
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