The Island's Swansong

X - X

There was no other way around it, which meant my plan would look ridiculous to any onlooker. I guess that's one upside to Sodor being abandoned. All my faith was put into my athletic ability, which I had little of. But that wasn't stopping me for some reason.

My only option was to empty my backpack. It was too heavy for me to tightrope across the remaining rails and keep my balance. One item at a time, I launched my belongings over the break in the Big Dipper. My sleeping mat, sleeping bag, torches, water bottles, among other things, were cast underarm to the other side. A prayer was said to each as it passed over a drop that would render the item lost forever. I was hoping to make my bag as light as possible, though my map and papers were too light to toss, and the stove too fragile to crash down on the other side.

With the easy part out of the way, I inspected the integrity of the rails. There were no bolted connections across the dangling sections of track, meaning the rails were secured (in theory) on either side of the viaduct, reducing the chance they would give while I was partway across. Time and gravity had slightly bowed them. My initial plan, to straddle both rails to spread my weight, fell through. Railway tracks are deceptively wide when one tries to spread their legs across them. I had to fall back to my least pleasant option: wandering along rail, one foot in front of the other, one move at a time.

If Toby could do it, so could I.

Pulling the straps of my bag as tight as they would go, I patted the exterior to make sure it was secure and not liable to swing around. The hefty stove, now deep in the bottom, lowered my centre of gravity at least, though I was clutching at straws for reassurance. I placed my feet on the furthest rail to the left, practising my balance on secure ground. The viaduct wall had the smallest gap on this side, giving me something to flail towards if my circus skills floundered. The rail to my right was five feet away, another option to catch myself on. Taking a deep breath, I put my left foot in front of the right, stopping for a breath, and then took another step.

As I stepped in deliberate, slow motions, my mind fought over whether to keep my eyes down, on my feet (and the horrifying drop to certain death), or up on my end goal. My left hand brushed the stone wall's dusty edge as I forced my cognitive processing to work almost exclusively on keeping me upright. My feet stepped forward, the rail beginning to dip as I approached the halfway point. The bridge beneath me was gone, as had any feeling of the viaduct wall. I forced my breathing deeper to slow its rate, but my heart pounded as if it was the loudest thing in the world.

Wind! I'd never checked the wind!

My mind screamed at the oversight. Pausing for the briefest second, I felt none. The air was dead. Any faults and falls would be my own doing.

The wall of the other side drew closer as I fought every urge to reach out for it. My feet slipped one in front of the other, each one feeling like it took a dozen seconds before committing to a move. The slightest of creaks triggered the panic alert. Was the rail about to give way?

My steps quickened, outstretched arms yawing back and forth as my balance began to shimmy from centre. My upper body became more unstable, but the ballast of the other side, now littered with my belongings, drew ever closer. One daring leap later and my soles were back on the noisy terrain.

Exhaling more air than a deflating balloon, I doubled over, hands on my knees. It was over. Somehow, I'd made it. Shutting my eyes, I let the dizziness of the immense concentration I'd mustered subside. Worries over, my rational inner critic stepped forward. How could I get back to the mainland? Trying to cross like that again was just begging for the odds to push back.

I gathered up my various things and repacked my bag, the weight feeling immense compared to the lightness I'd quickly grown accustomed to. Pushing on further down the line, I checked my watch. It was now past midday. Killdane, the next key mainline station, was still over twenty kilometres away.