Wrong Side of the Tracks Volume Two
Copyright © 2016 by Wolfen Saunderson
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means – except in the case of brief quotations embodied in articles or reviews – without written permission from its publisher.
Mwezi Sekhmet Desoto
I assumed my usual position as captain up front; alongside my fellow commanding officers, Emma and Donna, along with Leslie and the rest of the bold and stately Hystericals pride as we steadily and carefully inched our way across the tracks of the Norfolk and Atlantic’s majestic beast of Wilsmere Yard and mainline to and from Philly at nearly around sundown in the late evening. We had been discreetly searching the nooks and crannies of nearly every boxcar and open door autorack stationed there for countless hours on end for any and all possible signs of our fellow brethren’s kin, but sadly to no avail. “About how far in ahead have we been all this time?” Donna asked, exhaustedly with a sigh. I pulled back the right sleeve on my denim jacket and took a glance down at my wrist watch. 7:59 PM. “A hell of a long way past dinner.” I sighed in return as my stomach began to rumble loudly on cue. “Amen to that, sister.” Emma responded, her own stomach letting out a near and equally ferocious growl in response. “I could definitely go for a good old fashioned cheesesteak sub along with a cream cheese bagel or two right about now.” “Must I remind you rather gently again that it was indeed your voracious appetite that ended up getting us directly into this jam in the first place?” Leslie chimed in, half way on the borderline of all seriousness and her usual dosage of wolf style humor and jocularity. “Oh, pipe down, ‘mother’.” She snapped playfully before the not so distant crossing signal blasts of a K5LA horn and the low, steady rumble of what sounded like GEVO prime movers began to knife through the still dusk silence along with the typical binging of an E-bell. About another minute or so later, two striking ET44ACs dressed elegantly in the candy apple red and gray colors of their owner, NA, purred in with a short consist of what looked to be a local or second extra of some sort on the near track closest to our left. My heart almost immediately began quicken in pace, as I knew good and damn well our cover was now more than blown then and there. My new caretaker and housemate, Aunt Nikki, happened to know quite a few of the dicks and other staff working on this division of the railroad, and even at some point after a twelve career of her own at a department in South Carolina, was a train crew member herself along with Leslie for Illinois Northern down in Chicago. She sure as shit would not at all be a happy kitty to find out any of us were deliberately trespassing, and especially well without a warrant in Leslie’s case. The cab door of the lead engine opened slowly, and to my overall shock, surprise, and somewhat sense of small relief, the ever so familiar tigress whom I grew up to know and deeply love revealed her full on appearance to me with an obnoxiously loud, “Hey!” in mock exasperation, as my dearly beloved mate, Jeena McCree.
Still feeling like my world was downright crumbling in pieces around me after the deep and traumatizing incident of my past here in this city which still haunts me right up to this very present day. But, now, all those eleven years since she went away on her journey to follow in her family's footsteps on the career path that she and all the rest of them had cherished for more than ages to come, all that was finally about to change.