Train Wreck: The Engineer's Revenge

By Blair London

A serious crime facing American society is now a crime/thriller. Combining two train crashes, with a motive for cause of the second crash, the story opens with a train crash that happened in 2011, near Reno, where a semi crashed into a train car on the West-bound California Zephyr Amtrak passenger train.
Ben, an engineer, was sitting in Our Bar when he heard the horrific news of the train crash. He runs out of the bar, with his best friend Mark following him, and learns that his girlfriend, Christy is permanently blinded by the explosion from the crash. He vows to take care of her, but Christy doesn’t want him to, goes into a depression, and ends up taking her life. Earlier that same day, Ben discovered a new surgery to restore eyesight. He rushes home to tell Christy, only to find her dead by overdose of sleeping pills. Ben becomes obsessed with his love for trains, uses another engineer for her knowledge of the inner workings of them, and then orchestrates another train crash, leaving all but himself accounted for. Amidst the investigation, a detective begins to realize the shocking truth that his best friend Ben is indeed the culprit, and ends up pulling the lever when Ben is electrocuted.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Justice Gray
• Release date: May 16, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463889299

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Train Wreck

The Engineer’s Revenge

by Blair London

Reality Today Forum

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Copyright: © 2019 by Reality Today Forum. All rights reserved

No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of author.

Smashwords Edition

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

About the Author

Blair London is a Minnesota-based author. She gets her shocking ideas from extremely vivid dreams she has in conjunction with news stories, people she knows, and some personal experience. Blair writes about train crashes, war vets with PTSD, social media, bullying, serial killers, child trafficking, sex trafficking, airport stalkers, pedophiles, sociopaths, squatters, and illegal immigration; all modern-day crime. Blair warns that you may be shocked at what you read.

Blair has had some celebrity endorsements on her writing, including: Matthew McConaughey, Taylor Swift, Megyn Kelly, John Walsh, Kirk Cameron, and Meryl Streep.

You can connect with Blair on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/blair.london.35 and on Twitter at: https://twitter.com/TheBlairLondon

Prologue

Through the window, the hazy approaching figure cleared into one that instantly took Ben Black’s breath away. He didn’t necessarily consider himself a romantic, but the vision made him suddenly believe that there was such a thing as love at first sight. He stared, seeing the image of a beautiful young woman, perhaps just slightly younger than himself. She had a body to die for, skin like melted honey, and dark curly hair that tumbled luxuriously over her shoulders. An air of confidence surrounded her as she walked, like the world itself was at her disposal. Ben had never seen anything like her. Thoroughly transfixed, from that very moment, Ben knew this woman had the power to change the course of his life forever.

Breaking News: Train Crash Kills 6 People

June 24, 2011

Dwayne Benson

From Reno, Nevada. This just in. A semi driving on a rural stretch of U.S. Route 95 near Reno and Sparks, has crashed into one of the train cars on the westbound California Zephyr Amtrak passenger train. Details of how the crash came to be are unknown at this time.

We are currently investigating the matter, says Nevada Highway Patrol Trooper, Dan Lopez. We cannot confirm any details at this moment, aside from the six people found dead from the crash. Updates will be provided as more details become available. Stay tuned.

Chapter 1

The scene at Our Bar was the same as always on Tuesdays at noon. The foggy daylight streamed through the greasy windows, the air was perfumed with the stale and lingering aromas of fried food and alcohol, the televisions were tuned to the football game that was playing that day, and there was hardly a soul around with the exception of Spike, the bartender.

Apart from Spike, one other man sat lazily on a worn barstool with a half-full beer mug in his hand. Although only in his late twenties, his eyes were old and weary, and were glued to the football game on the TV nearest to him. His slightly pudgy face, along with his lack of hair, gave his head the appearance of a polished white billiard ball. With the black football jersey he wore, and the wistful way he watched the game, he gave off the impression of a sports star who never made it, although that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Just as the announcers on the screen shouted Touchdown! the entrance doors of the bar swung open and another man unceremoniously stumbled in, breathing heavily. Locks of long hair escaped his ponytail, which he hastily pushed back from his bright baby blue eyes. His plaid shirt and dirty jeans could have belonged to a lumberjack, but his lanky body and smooth skin made him look more like a farmer. He hurried to his friend in the black football jersey, easily spotting the light reflecting off of his bald head.

His bald friend turned around, seeing his friend approaching. Hey, Mark! I didn’t think you’d want to come! he said.

Having made his way over, Mark put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Ben, bud, he panted, did you see the news?

What news? Ben asked, slightly slurring his words. I’ve just been watching our team get torn to shreds here.

Mark looked at the TV. Right at that moment, the game was interrupted. Bright red letters reading Breaking News flashed onto the screen. Mark pointed to the TV. Just look. Football is the last thing I want to care about. Ben…Oh, Ben, I’m sorry, man….

Ben turned his attention to the TV, zoning in on the newscaster’s words.

"…Amtrak crash. Like any other day, most of the passengers were on their way to work. While there are many survivors, there are at least six people confirmed dead. None of the bodies have been identified so far, aside from the conductor and the lorry driver...."

Ben’s heart sank to his stomach, a feeling of dread squeezing his chest. His mind filled with images of olive-skin, and brilliant curls. A tall figure. His very reason for living. His everything. She was the only reason he had to get out of bed most days. He could hear her laugh, feel her kisses, and the way her presence made him feel as if she had been waiting for him her entire life. He could see her silhouette in his kitchen, highlighted by the tender light seeping through the gossamer curtains while birds chirped on a knotty old pine tree by the window. He could see her turning toward him after scribbling some note on the kitchen counter. He could see her beautiful smile as she walked toward him, saying: How you doin’, hot stuff? You didn’t really expect to get away without a nice hello and goodbye, did you?

Ben, Mark said. You need a second to collect yourself, buddy.

Collect myself? His beer fell to the ground, the glass shattering and the amber liquid running across the aged wooden floor. He pulled his wallet from his pocket and slammed a fifty-dollar bill on the bar before abruptly standing from his seat and spinning toward the exit. I have to go.

He ran out of the bar without looking back. Mark followed him, struggling to keep up with his surprising speed. After finally managing to catch up to Ben on the sidewalk, Mark grabbed him by the wrist. With his bald head and large body, he looked more intimidating than Mark had ever seen him.

Ben looked back at his best friend. Mark, please… Christy… she… she was…. His voice cracked. She was there. He shook his head. She was supposed to be back. I don’t even know— Ben was too shocked to speak coherently. He felt like the world was crashing down on him.

And just when things had been going so well….

So good that….

He hadn’t even needed the medication in such a long time….

And now…now this.

Mark’s breath caught in his throat, upon seeing his friend so distressed. When he loosened his grip, Ben immediately made a dash for his car.

Ben, wait! Mark shouted. At least take me with you. I can drive you—

No! I’m fine! Ben yelled at him. He jumped into his car and cranked the engine before rapidly backing out of the parking lot. The tires squealed, smoke rose from the asphalt, and the car shot down the street, almost sideswiping several parked vehicles along the way, as he sped away.

Shit, Ben, Mark muttered. He rushed to his own car, determined to catch up to his friend as quickly as possible. He knew he couldn’t let Ben face something like this alone. As he cranked the car engine of his own car and hurried off, he wondered what Ben was going to do. He tried to imagine how he was feeling. Knots clenched in his stomach and he gripped the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles ached.

A part of him wondered if he was being intrusive in following Ben—thinking perhaps a man needed privacy at a time like this. But another part of him knew that if he wasn’t there for Ben, he’d have no one else to turn to.

Ben needed him.

What is he going to do? Mark muttered to himself as his mind quickly explored different possibilities. I gotta be there though; he’s going to need me.

Chapter 2

In the previous years, Ben Black had essentially been a different person. He had been thinner, and less bloated. More fit. And he had thick dark hair, and therefore hadn’t sported the bald look yet.

As a young man fresh out of college, he had landed a steady job working for Rialb Engineering. Things couldn’t have been better. The workdays were long, and putting in overtime was often the rule rather than the exception, but he had no complaints about that. His life was precisely what he had wanted at the time, until one fateful night when he realized that the emptiness of his apartment bothered him. He had been the sole occupant for years, and quite suddenly, it hit him—he was lonely.

The revelation occurred after a particularly stressful, yet rewarding day, at work.

That day, Ben had been tasked with fine-tuning the design of a special new airplane wing—working on the lever to control the angle of the wing flaps. Although he hadn’t done work of this nature since college, he felt quite up to the challenge. Always the problem-solver, it only took him a couple hours while hunched over his desk to develop a system of hydraulics and levers that would give the wing flap the proper amount of control. Experimental designs were one thing, but drafting them to work without fail was something else entirely. But Ben was equipped to do just that, having always been considered something of a star at Rialb. His talents had already been made abundantly clear by the work he’d managed to produce in his high school and college days.

Having completed his task, Ben leaned back in his chair, satisfied. It had taken him less than three hours to finish, and had garnered him his boss’s impressed congratulations. Best of all, he heard talk about there being a higher position soon that might have his name on it. Everything was going well at work, but he couldn’t help but feel that something was missing.

Yet, as Ben glanced over the papers strewn across his desk—the awards, the degrees, the photographs of planes he helped design—he felt nothing. It was like the areas that contained his heart and stomach were hollow. He was growing used to it, but he didn’t like it one bit. He should have been proud of his past and excited about his future, but instead, he couldn’t shake off the sinking feeling that all of his achievements were meaningless if he had no one to share them with. Despite being the star of many great days, the underwhelming ones overshadowed them every time.

At lunch, he munched on the tuna fish sandwich he had packed himself while contemplating his life and staring at the office’s mesh iron ceiling.

As a boy, Ben always had a great interest in engineering. His favorite pastimes had included tinkering with toy robots, drawing elaborate plans for machines and outlandish inventions, and dreaming about flying to the stars—or at least designing a ship that could. He had loved reading science-fiction, especially fantasy-driven stuff like Star Wars. He had marveled at the realism of Isaac Asimov’s novels, the science behind Star Trek, and dreaming of impossible, astonishing, unreal technology fueled his love for engineering at an early age.

He once took apart the family computer, much to his father’s dismay. But when he managed to put it back together, making it run smoother and faster than before, his dad took him out for ice cream. From that moment on, his parents recognized his brilliant mind and were more than willing to support his interests. Consequently, they sent him to an exclusive engineering-based high school. Ben knew it was a rare and remarkable opportunity—a true shot at something great. And it had been exactly that, while it lasted that is.

Once he started at the school, Ben excelled academically, but socially, not so much. He struggled to make friends with his classmates, but instead he became rather chummy with several of his teachers because it seemed much easier. The teachers were amazed by his work and easily realized that he could do things they had never seen other sixteen-year-old kids do before, at least not with the same level of proficiency that Ben displayed. He could design computer programs, build entire engines from scratch, and solve math problems that regularly left the teachers stumped. Accordingly, everyone considered him the Wonderkid—the boy genius whose ultimate potential had no boundaries, and who was capable of doing whatever he set his mind to. Everyone knew Ben’s future was brighter than the stars he dreamed of reaching someday. Until he was expelled, that is.

Later, Ben began his college studies at MIT. For the first two years, he was at the top of his class. But when he turned twenty-one, during his junior year, he discovered his love for something else—alcohol. After his first night of partying, he was hooked, and he knew there was no turning back. Ben simply couldn’t help himself—he loved his beer, vodka, whiskey, and tequila, despite the fact his body didn’t tolerate them too well. He would make himself sick more often than not, waking up in the morning with terrible hangovers from which he thought he would never recover. Each time he’d wake up to pounding headaches accompanied by cold sweat drenching his body. With clammy skin, he would spend hours gripping the cold porcelain toilet seat as he vomited until he was left with painful dry-heaving spells after his stomach was thoroughly empty but still refusing to cooperate.

Each and every time, he would vow to never touch alcohol again, so sure that he’d learned his lesson. Yet, each and every time, he was back hitting the bottle just a couple nights after an episode—always negotiating with himself to just drinking a little more responsibly; promising himself to not go overboard. Persuading himself that the next time around, he’d handle his liquor better, only to wake up once again with the same horrible hangovers. It was a vicious never-ending cycle that seemed to have snuck up on him since the drinking had initially started out innocuously enough. In the beginning, Ben would only get plowed at frat parties on weekends. He would do it to relax and unwind—a treat for himself after a long week of hard studying. He felt that he deserved some fun, just like everyone else. After getting a good buzz going, Ben could typically be found flailing his arms around on the dance floor alone, not bothering to ask anyone to dance with him.

But within a few months, his drinking was no longer limited to weekend frat parties. He began drinking on weekday nights after he had finished studying. And then, slowly but surely, he was hitting the bottles by afternoon, right after finishing his classes. And then afternoons weren’t even enough. He started having drinks first thing in the morning, and continued throughout the entire day—drinking between homework assignments, and between library studying sessions. Drinking when it was time to relax; drinking to help him fall asleep; self-medicating with alcohol at every available opportunity he could seize.

Before he knew it, he couldn’t slow down even if he wanted to. Moreover, he didn’t have the slightest compunction about it—resigning to the fact that this would be his life indefinitely because as time went on, it took more and more alcohol to appease him. He was continually building tolerance for it. What started out as needing one shot of whisky as soon as he woke in the mornings, eventually became needing two shots. And on and on it went.

Ironically, the alcoholism didn’t have an impact on his schoolwork. Somehow, he managed to stay near the top of the class. However, his health began to deteriorate. He started gaining weight, growing sluggish, and getting extremely moody. The liquor and beer made him irritable most days of the week, and it wasn’t long before the depression kicked in. While depression hadn’t been too much of a problem for him before, when it decided to rear its ugly head, it became unrelenting. It made him believe horrible things not only about others, but about himself as well. Using the depression as its entry point, alcohol became Ben’s toxic best friend—the one that simultaneously made him feel better, but insisted on dragging him through the mud every step of the way. His life had officially spiraled out of control.

Slowly, he began to realize that the few friends he had managed to make started talking to him less and less. They didn’t visit him as much, and they rarely invited him on their outings. Eventually, they stopped hanging out with him altogether. He became an outcast on campus. It got to the point where the only meaningful conversations he ever held were the ones he had with himself and an imaginary audience.

That summer, his family noticed his unusual behavior and made it their business to get him help, urging him to take it seriously. But their efforts were in vain; Ben wasn’t a child anymore, so they couldn’t force him to have sessions like they used to. So it was out of their hands when Ben wouldn’t adhere to the twelve-step program, keep up with his