The Sudrians: The Salvation Collection

Bear South

Bear could't exactly remember the name Gordon kept saying, something beginning with 'r'. He'd have to ask Gordon when he gets back. At last the guard blew his whistle, and Bear, tooting his horn, pulled the train out of the station and towards London.

He finally saw London up ahead, and smiled, he was beginning to feel tired from running down the English lines and was glad to have a proper rest. He arrived at London, later than the usual service, but still felt satisfied. A shunter came to take his coaches, and the hydraulic diesel set off to be refuelled, he would take the returning express service tomorrow with the new engine the Fat Controller had brought.

He came into one of the yards in London and glanced around. "Thank goodness I wasn't directed off the wrong line," he muttered, suddenly, he heard a toot of the horn and heard a purring diesel come towards him. A very dirty diesel came idling up alongside the hydraulic diesel.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't D7101."

Bear was shocked to see the diesel become someone he recognised all too well. "D199," he murmured, "what are you doing here."

"Got sent here to do goods work a year ago," scoffed the diesel.

"H-How did you recognise me?"

"Heard about your little appearance in that little book... well I saw some of it," said D199, "and guess what! I was in it too! I'm a disgrace now!"

"Sorry," shrugged Bear (if he could shrug at all), "but you did that to yourself really."

"I didn't chose to be called Spamcan."

Bear tried not smirk when he heard that. "People really call you that now?"

Spamcan gritted his teeth. "Don't you dare mock me... Bear," he said venomously, "you failed on that day too, you were only chosen cause you were a failed class."

"Rubbish," scoffed Bear defensively, "my class is still in working order to this day and you know it, I do believe their time will come but until then, you just keep your mouth shut."

Spamcan growled furiously. "Well... why are you hear then?" he asked.

"None of your business," said Bear crossly, and he fumed off, leaving Spamcan to watch him go with a glaring sneer planted on his face.

Bear was soon notified that he'll be heading off to King's Cross. "We'll be leaving there with the express tomorrow lad," stated his driver, and apparently there's a surprise in the yards over there."

Bear was curious by that, but said nothing as he moved off to the yards near King's Cross. It was a little complicated getting there, but he finally found where he was heading and as his driver was at his back cab he finally arrived at the yards safely.

And there, standing in one of the sidings, with workmen standing around it, was a steam, tender engine the Fat Controller had promised. It was sizzling nicely where it stood, it had a rather unusual square cab, with four big driving wheels and it cylinder had plunged into the middle of it's footplate. An early BR crest was painted on her tender and the cab showed it's number reading: 62886.

The shape it had was too iconic for Bear to not know what she was now. "You're an Atlantic engine," he grinned broadly, "one of some to only have one gender in their class."

The Atlantic engine smiled at Bear, even though, Bear saw it to be a little fake. "Yes I am," she affirmed, "I'm an Great Northern C1."

"Oh, so you're from one of the railways before they were merged into the LNER," said Bear, trying to get her into a conversation."

"Yes... indeed I am," said the Atlantic engine.

Just then, they heard a man rushing up to them both. Bear sighed with relief as a man with a top hat came hurrying up to him. He put his hands on his knees and panted for breath. It took an awkwardly long while until reposed himself and looked proudly at Bear with his cheeks still flush in the early evening sun. "Glad you were able to make it Bear," he beamed, "and I see you've met Alice, our newest addition to our fleet!"