Thomas The Unstoppable Tank Engine Novels & Stories

of the battle. The Vow of the Key Thomas, seeing his father struggling against three terminators, scrambled out of the "Null-Box." He didn't run away; he ran toward the "Command-Link." "I know the 'Sequence', Mom!" Thomas shouted, his "Independent" spirit shining through his "Friendly" gray eyes. "Dad taught me the 'Shadow-Script'!"

He could feel her pain, but he also knew he had to get her moving. “Yeah I know I have to get going, but we need to mess up the tracks the other cars made.” Thomas found a branch that was slowly dying on the ground. He started digging in the dirt causing the tracks to fade. Megan wove her hands into a pattern that caused the ground to rumble and dirt to dance around them. When everything stopped, it looked like no one had been there. With a kiss and a wink, Megan disappeared leaving Thomas to call in the death of David Blackwater.

Then Thomas woke up one morning. Walked outside. And immediately froze. Then: "What." Silence. Then: "What is that." Rowan looked up from the dock. Then smiled proudly. Then: "A boat." The thing floating on the lake was not a boat. It was a crime. Against boats. Against engineering. Against common sense. Then Cassian appeared beside Thomas. Then: "It sank twice yesterday." Then: "He's rebuilding it." Honestly? Fair. Very fair. Reasonable honestly. Then Rowan pointed.

"What is it? Hang on a bit longer. I'm getting you out." Theo tried to be brave between his coughing fits. "Don't worry about me. You should go… I don't want to get you into trouble." Thomas smoothed the boy's hair. "You didn't cause this. It's because of me. That's why I'll get you out. Don't be afraid. If I can't—then we die together." Theo choked on the words, then asked, small and scared, "Thomas, you know how to… disarm bombs?"

"It has to be. I can't let them down." "You...care for him?" Thomas's hands shook as he retrieved a small box hidden near the disused cannon. It was a strange place to keep first aid, but it saved waiting after someone faced the cat or the gunner's daughter. "I thought you did. But I wasn't sure. You're closeted when it comes to emotion."

Thomas was quiet as he walked ahead, leading Isaac through the forest. Isaac was in turn focused and listening to everything around him. Because he could not see, he could only use his hearing to perceive everything around him. And suddenly, he heard the cry of an engine from the distance, a hum distinct from the breeze and birdsong. He asked, "Can you drive a car through these mountains?" "Yes," Thomas replied—his 'employers' would drive on a hidden path when they came, and it was basically invisible under the cover of grass. It would not have been seen if not for the tire tracks.

"And my father, Thomas? What was he like?" "Thomas was a man of great ambition and determination," Mr. Clark replied. "He was incredibly intelligent and had a natural business acumen. He had a vision for HH Incorporation that extended beyond mere financial success. He believed in using the company's resources to make a positive impact on the world. He often spoke of creating a more sustainable future and was passionate about environmental conservation and used his influence to support various eco-friendly initiatives."

Thomas accepted one of the boats. The folds leaned unevenly to one side. The bottom had collapsed inward. One corner pointed stubbornly toward the sky. He looked at it for several moments. Then nodded thoughtfully. "This one..." He smiled. "...has personality." The boy frowned. "I think it's broken." Thomas laughed. "So did Eleanor." The child looked confused. "Who's Eleanor?" Thomas glanced toward the orchard where the morning breeze stirred the branches gently. "A woman who believed imperfect things usually had better stories."

Nathan smiled as he rode the Thomas the Tank Engine. In truth, there was nothing particularly special about the ride. However, throughout the journey, children’s songs such as Balonku Ada Lima, Naik Odong-Odong, and various other songs could be heard. The train was actually nothing more than a pickup truck that had been modified to resemble Thomas the Tank Engine from the cartoon. Its owner had been remarkably creative in transforming such a simple vehicle into an entertaining attraction for children. “Are you having fun riding the train?”

Leo stopped his spoon three inches from his mouth, his blue eyes lifting to fix on Lucas’s face with a sharp, protective curiosity. ​"No," Dante said. He didn't use a soft translation or a child’s metaphor. He leaned his elbow on the table, bringing his face down until he was square with the boy. "Thomas grows the pumpkins by the lower ridge. He doesn't have a laboratory, and he doesn't keep a ledger." ​"Martha had a ledger," Lucas murmured, his finger tracing a small, circular knot in the pine wood of the table. "With the red lines."