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Fuck, shit, putain !
Damn that motherfucking storm !
Three days ! Trackman was three days late to his delivery due to that fucking skull in the sky who decided to fuck up the Far Far North. If anyone found out about him being late, after all the times he had made fun of the others for it, he would never hear the end of it.
Thankfully, he only had one delivery to make here. He fired the train′s engine at full speed, as if it would make up for his mistake. At least the rumble of the wheels, the heat of the chimney and the criptics he ran over calmed him down from his anger.
He could finally see the entry of the cave a little away in the fog. He was almost to his stop. He slowed down the locomotive, knowing the ice would make him slide on the rails more than usual. He had no doubt in his mastery and after pulling the hand brake, the train slowly stopped inside the cave. Trackman wasted no time taking his delivery bag, clipping it to his waist and jumping down in the snow. He ran toward the hideout, making sure not to slip.
His engine felt like it stopped when he crossed the cow skull gate. It was silent, more than usual.
"Cariboo ?", he called.
No answer. It made no sense. Cariboo never left the hole he made his home. That′s why he relied so much on the precious delivery Trackman was supposed to bring him.
He walked farther into the cave, the snowmen′s gazes following him. He always thought this place was creepy but it was even worse when it was empty.
Then he finally saw it. A robot lying against the wall, unmoving. Trackman′s fuel froze in his system. He was too late…
Still, his joints got him to walk toward the figure.
Cariboo′s face screen was black and the right side had a crack on it. He must have fallen when he turned off suddently. His scarf was untied but didn′t fly away as it got stuck under his unmoving hand. His bodywork was so cold it had cracked on some parts.
"No, no…", Trackman whispered to no one. "Please tell me you′re still alive."
He needed to check his engine. If it was still running, even faintly, then there was a chance to save him. He wanted to have hope, to not hate himself for being late for the only time in his damn life and having made the worst mistake he could because of it. He layed his hand on Cariboo's chest.
Did he feel some fuel running ? He swore he could feel something beating but what if his programming was playing tricks on him ? He hoped not. He prayed not. He leaned over, putting his sensors closer to Cariboo's mechanism. He leaned even closer and…
Zap!
The static shock caught Trackman off guard. He didn't notice how close how their facescreens were. He hadn't mean to do that, especially with Cariboo being turned off. He-
A slight buzzing brought him back to the real world. Cariboo's fans just turned on, and his screen flickered back to life. He looked around, visibly dizzy from the whole ordeal. Dizzy but on and alive.
"Wha… What… Trackman ?..", Cariboo whispered.
He tried to stand up, but Trackman stopped him.
"Take it easy. What happened ?"
"Have to… leave… Danger…"
Trackman patted his chest.
"I know, I know.", he answered. "We're in a danger zone. That's why I'm late, I'm so sorry Cariboo. I'm so…"
Cariboo's screen was starting to dim again. It wasn't the time to apologize, it was the time for action. Trackman picked up Cariboo's scarf, tied it back around his neck and braced himself. Hooking his hands around his friend's waist, he lifted him up. He could hear the distant noise of vultures flying toward them. They had to go now.
"I'm getting you out of here, don't worry."
Cariboo didn't answer. Trackman just hoped he was still awake. He ran toward his train, jumped in the locomotive and turned on the engine. Bullets flew around him, ricochetting against the metal roof. One whizzed too close to his face when he was tuning one of the dials.
The whole carriage rumbled as he threw more coal in the furnace. The horde of criptics was louder, the bones rattling as they ran toward them. The train was starting to run, but not fast enough to his liking. Trackman didn't mind dying here with his wife, but he couldn′t let Cariboo down a second time. The Criptic Overseer′s laugh was thundering and mocking him. The rails screeched. And finally, the train picked up enough speed to take off and leave that damn place.
Once in the sky, Trackman could finally relax a little. They were far away from the vultures, the criptics and any other threats. Now he could focus on what was important : taking care of Cariboo.
He layed him on the big mailbag filled to the brim with letters, hoping it would be a little confortable. He opened the bag on his hip, knowing he was supposed to deliver antifreeze. He opened one bottle, emptied it in the coffee pot and put it to boil on the locomotive′s engine. While it warmed, Trackman fetched his comfort quilt (a gift from Hooty from years back. She probably doesn't even remember gifting it to him) and went to Cariboo. He layed the blanket over him, making sure he was well covered. The other robot mumbled something with a nod.
"I'm sorry ?", Trackman asked.
"Díky… for helping me…"
Thankfully, the pot started whistling, cutting the conversation short. Trackman didn't do well with people being earnest with him. He turned around to his safe place near the train′s furnace. He poured two cups of antifreeze and alas, had to face Cariboo again to give him his share.
The robot accepted the drink with shaky hands. He sipped on it, while the conductor also drank from his cup.
"Trackman. I have to go back. I can′t… Jerry…"
"No, it′s too dangerous to turn around. I′m getting you to Willy Billy to fix you, letting you rest and then, I′ll bring you home."
Cariboo curled on himself, his joints creaking as they thawed.
"Can′t… too hot in the desert. I′ll die."
He held up his hand slowly, pointing at one of his fans. Trackman crouched to be at his level. The fan who whirred to life earlier was now still.
"That′s why I need Willy Billy to check up on you", Trackman replied. "He can fix that no problem."
Cariboo shook his head but did not protest futher. Good. Everyone knew how stubborn Trackman was and how useless it was to argue against him. He stood up to check back on his furnace, sipping proudly his antifreeze.
The next part of the journey was silent. Once out of the storm, the sky was clear and the last hour of travel to the town promised to be a breeze. Trackman let out a whizz of relief. He let his girl run on autopilot to check on his passenger once again.
Cariboo had finished his cup and had set it next to him on the floor. He was lying on his side, facing toward the end of the train and the sky. He wasn't moving, but Trackman could see cogs moving and dials blinking. Not passed out again, but just in power-saving mode. He walked toward him to retrive the dishes when Cariboo turned his face toward him.
"Trackman ?", he said sleepily.
"You need something ?"
"I meant to ask you… Back at home… Did you kiss me ?"
Trackman froze. He considered crashing the train to avoid the conversation. He would never let his wife die like that, but the sentiment was here. How was he supposed to explain he accidentally leaned too close to his friend he was very worried about, close enough to make a spark between them, and that it was the first time in years he had kissed someone and it was maybe the first time Cariboo ever kissed someone since he lived alone and-
"I didn't mean to", he muttered.
"Oh. But I was thinking… Can you do it again ? It felt warm… Good…"
Putain. He couldn't say no. Not when Cariboo looked up to him from his blanket nest, his eye pleading and shaking like a puppy. He had always been cute but this was the cutest he had ever looked. Trackman felt the engine in his chest pick up the speed, his fans trying their best to cool him down. Cariboo must hear them turning at full speed from where he was.
"I… Of course Cariboo. Anything for you."
The other robot perked up, apparently not expecting this answer. He sat up as Trackman crouched once again to the floor. And before he was ready, Cariboo caught his face in his hand and brought together their face screen.
After the initial zap of electricity, the kiss was tender, if not a little desesperate. Cariboo was cold but he kept dragging Trackman closer to him, enjoying the warmth of his engine. They were both lonely people, no one close to them to hug or touch them. It was like the first sip of fuel after days in the desert.
Cariboo leaned back, checking on the conductor's face if everything was alright. Trackman probably looked shocked, but not unpleasantly so as his friend (or more ? They had kissed twice now) pulled him closer under the blanket.
"Zůstaň tu se mnou…", he mumbled as he nuzzled his face in Trackman's chest.
Well, they still had at least forty-five minutes before landing. He could afford staying like that for a bit, as long as it made Cariboo happy.