Thomas and Friends: The Retold Adventures

by The Blue EM2


Devil's Back

Lord Harry sat in the shed for many days. Or rather, I should say that Number 6 sat in the back of the shed for several days. Mr Richards had decided, as a punishment, to take his name away and simply refer to him by his builder's number.
"Come on, Number 6!" Mr Richards shouted, one morning, "you have work to do!"

"I have a name, you know," Number 6 replied. "Stripping off a nameplate does not take a name away."

Mr Richard's eyes narrowed. "You are not Lord Harry, and you are not a living being. You are a pile of metal parts with a number attached."

"How would you like it if somebody said you were no longer called Mr Richards but were now called Mr Bottomley?" asked a voice. Stepping forward through the shed was Sugarcoat. "And he isn't a lump of metal, as the fact he can reply to your words makes clear."

Mr Richards sighed. "He is still Number 6," he said. "But, regardless, both of you have work to do, as you, Sugarcoat, are the only person capable of driving Number 6. The passengers don't trust either of you, I'm afraid, so both of you are on freight duty. You've got the truck."

Alaric sniggered. "I pity the poor soul who has to get that thing up the mountain."

"Yeah!" said his driver, a girl with peach skin and orange hair with multicoloured blue hair, as well as being dressed in the company uniform. Her name was India Zabel, or Indigo Zap to her friends. "Too bad, Sugarcoat!"

"Nice to see you too, Indigo Zap," Sugarcoat sighed as she opened Number 6's regulator. "The sooner we get this job over the better."

At first, they were taking supplies to the top of the mountain. There was a large hotel for the climbers, who would travel up by foot, and then spend the night at the hotel. Then, they would come down the next day by train. Due to its isolated position, there was no road to service the hotel, which was at 2,048 feet above sea level, so all food and drink, as well as cleaning supplies and bedding, had to be brought in by train. It was for this purpose the truck was built, a vehicle built by sticking a 12 ton van body on the front of a low loader. Number 6 found the work dreadfully boring, not to mention he was hugely overpowered for it anyway.

"It's important work!" Wilfred told him. "And it's tough too!"

"Tough?" Number 6 snorted. "That lot? Don't be ridiculous. That thing weighs about as much as a piece of paper."

"Have you ever been across Devil's Back in a raging storm?" Culdee asked.

"What's Devil's Back?" asked Twilight.

"Just beyond the station of the same name is an exposed ridge on the line," Culdee explained. "There is absolutely no cover at all, and the wind and the rain whip around you like angry bees. We call it Devil's Back, and it is similar to Clogwyn over on Snowdon. It's also where Godred-"

"Doesn't exist!" everybody chorused.

"When the wind and wet are high," Culdee went on, "the passenger trains terminate at Devil's Back, and then go back down. But no matter what, the supply and stores trains must get through."

"I see," Number 6 replied. He hadn't been paying much attention, and rolled away for his next job.

Jet Set sighed. "Let's hope he isn't up there when it's bad. He'd fall off!"



A few days later, Number 6 was waiting with the truck at Devil's Back, waiting for Eric to come down. At last he rolled through, with his driver, a girl with pink skin, wild green hair, and orange eyes.

"Yeah!" she cried. "That storm was wicked!" Her voice carried over the noise coming from her headphones, which appeared to be loud rock music.

"Take my heed!" called Eric. "The weather is very bad. Watch your footing! Lemon Tart, turn the music down!" And he puffed on down.

"I don't have feet," Number 6 said.

"That was Lemon Zest," Sugarcoat sighed. "Or Lara Zablocki. I really don't care." The clock now showed 5:15 in the afternoon, and the station master came out.

"You two!" he called. "Best be getting going. According to the weather forecast there'll be a storm in half an hour. Get the staff and get back down here as fast as you can!" He went back indoors to set the points when suddenly his phone went. "Yes?" he asked. "Good gracious!" he cried. "Well? They need rescue? I'll send a train at once!"

He went back outdoors with his crew of men. "Fill the ballast tanks!" he shouted. "And weigh the truck down with sandbags! Sugarcoat! Get Number 6 refilled, make him as heavy as possible!"

"What is all this?" Number 6 asked, confused.

"There's been a climbing accident!" shouted the station master. "One of the climbers is seriously injured. Culdee and Catherine are coming up with a doctor, but there's no way they could take this storm. "You're much heavier, as is the truck. You'll be able to take it, but do you think you can do it?"

"I'll try, sir," Number 6 replied, seeing a shot at redemption. A few minutes later, Culdee arrived, and the doctor switched over into the truck. Twilight looked out of Culdee's cab to Sugarcoat.

"Good luck," she said. "And if you don't make it back, I want you to know it was an honour working with you."

"Thanks," Sugarcoat replied. "It was an honour knowing you too."

"Culdee?" Number 6 asked. "If I don't make it back... I'm sorry for what I said to you."

"All is forgiven," Culdee replied. Just then the signal dropped, and Number 6 thundered away into the pouring rain and howling wind. "He's got guts, I'll give you that."



The wind roared around them and the rain lashed down as Number 6 did his best on the climb. The wind slammed into him, and he wobbled briefly. "By Riggenbach, this is bad!" he cried.

Culdee whistled loudly, and he, Twilight, and Catherine cheered loudly. "Keep it up! You can do it!" Number 6 heard them for a moment, but then they were gone. He, Sugarcoat, and the truck were on their own.

The wind tore around them, battering the truck in front of him. It shook back and forth as it ascended the climb, groaning as it did so.

"We're halfway there!" called Sugarcoat. "Come on, keep it up!"

It was tough work, but Number 6 knew he couldn't give up. With one last blast of steam, and a loud roar of triumph, he rolled to a stop in Summet station. The medical crews were there to help the injured aboard, and Number 6 then made the return trip to Devil's Back without any challenge. Eventually, the climbers were whisked to hospital, but the next day their leader came by the depot.

"Hello!" he said to Number 6. "Thanks for the help. My friend Patrick was injured trying to save me. He succeeded, and is now recovering well in hospital."

"I can't claim sole responsibility," Number 6 replied. "Without Sugarcoat, I'd never have got there."

"Strickly, without the truck we'd not have been much help at all," Sugarcoat said. "But I wish Patrick the very best. Say, would you like the name Patrick?"

"It's better than just 'Number 6'!" Number 6, or Patrick, as he was now, laughed. Patrick is now a well-valued member of the Culdee Fell family, and is prepared to take risks if need be. But he knows now that it is stupid to simply take risks for the sake of showing off.