The locomotive was old, an antique with faded paint and rusting wheels. It's headlights were dim, its whistle no longer worked and its cylinders had become clogged with mud and grime and the passage of time. Despite the damage, the locomotive still functioned- and to its rear were coupled two 1929 Sentinel passenger railcars. Like their engine, the paint was chipped, the wheels stiff- like their engine, they still functioned. The locomotive and its cars were survivors of decades of love and decades more of neglect. Outliving generations of men they had travelled proudly around their rail line, station to station with a purpose. As time had passed, each station had become a greater challenge for the locomotive. Whistle-less, paint-less, a relic of what it once was. But still it steamed on, the proud locomotive. Until Jackrabbit threw it against a wall. He hadn't cared one bit for the survival of the dumb toy. Decades of travel around this stupid toy track meant nothing to him; generations of Stevie's ancestors that had played with this track were as relevant to him now as the movements of the NFB. This ridiculous game was meant to distract him, to make him stay put whilst the "grown-ups" went about their important business. Nobody had time for him now. Doc Holloway was too busy being bestest friends with Talon. A piece of track bounced off the floor as he propelled it. Vanilla was too busy making lovey-faces at Spyke to even remember he existed. He threw a plastic station against the wall, watched as it ricocheted off in two parts. Stevie was too busy... too busy doing whatever it was Stevie did. Jackrabbit didn't even know where Stevie went, and that was the worst part of all. For six years Stevie had travelled by his side, road companions, comrades-in-arms. And now he was almost never around. Not since that day in the Arcade. A tunnel hit the window, causing a spider-crack before spinning to a stop under the heater. The OWF had been no better to him than his so-called friends. Since day one he had fought for the OWF, put aside his loyalties to the now-defunct NLW in order to focus on being the best he could for his new residence. Within three matches he was carrying the OWF Tag Team Title strap, and why? Because the OWF needed him to. He hadn't asked for the Pool of Blood match, hadn't asked to be fused with Holloway to unseat the combustible Team ME. As their petty girly feud and over-inflated egos began to consume the fed, dragging the World Title down into it, Jackrabbit had been there to rescue the Tag Titles at least- to liberate them from the chaos sucking them in. Jackrabbit had conquered his fear of heights to do that- he'd conquered his fear of heights for the OWF. And he'd still be there now, fighting for those OWF Tag Team Championships in a division that had fallen into bedlam. He and Doc would have been the constant that the OWF so badly sought if not for Talon. Talon, the once-friend always-enemy, the Enigma that came out of the shadows only to ruin Jackrabbit's life. Jackrabbit was supposed to be the victor at Brawltopia. Jackrabbit was supposed to slay the dragon, send the demon back to Hell. He was supposed to be the OWF's shining knight; after all, the good guy always defeats the bad guy, right? That was how Brawltopia was supposed to go. That's what the OWF needed. But Jackrabbit failed. He had failed the millions of 'Rabbit Fans, he had failed himself, and he had failed the OWF. His loss led Talon to hold the OWF Tag Team Championships with Holloway in a mismatched Tag Team that made even Moxie and Eva look cohesive. Once more the Tag Team Championships had been dragged into the abyss, and this time it was Jackrabbit's fault. And how did the OWF respond? By walking out on him. Walking out like Holloway, walking out like Vanilla and Stevie. Walking out like Talon. Nonsense matches with Lorenzo Demarko and Mikey Austin. He hadn't been booked at Clash of Champions at all, the ever-loving 'Rabbit Fans deprived of Jackrabbit Time. The OWF had been too busy. He pushed the entire table over, spilling hills and valleys and tunnels across the room, hearing the clatter of engines and carriages and coal trucks. And Jackrabbit laughed. Not the usual shrill manic laugh that had hit the sound speakers of a dozen wrestling companies over a decade. This was a guttural laugh, a cold dead laugh. He laughed because now the OWF had given him Eva De La Cruz. The OWF had remembered him again. Eva, the person who had held the OWF main event hostage through the summer. The Heartless Bitch, she called herself, and that's how she had treated the OWF and its most prestigious prize. Eva had pointed her gun at the entire OWF crowds for months on end, whilst Jackrabbit played victim to the machinations of The Enigma and fled for his life from the schemes of Tero Haber. Eva had taken full advantage of the loss of Dynamo, the loss of Starr, the injury of Eclipse and the kidnapping of Jesse Williams' soul. And she'd taken the OWF World Championship when there was no one else left to take it. Jackrabbit had seen it all, played out in his mind like tiny quicksilver puppets. He'd known of the stranglehold Eva would have long before she had it. He'd known that Moxie Roxie, her own heart polluted by greed, would be no saving grace for the OWF. No white knight stood tall when a dragon fought a dragon. And so the OWF fans had watched their Tag Team division fall into anarchy, the World Title scene become pandemonium. And the reason was clear to him now. Plain as day, like the veil had been lifted. The stupidity, the jokes, the laughter and the idiocy. The ignorance had faded like a morning haze. It had been Jackrabbit's fault. Because he hadn't risen up when he was supposed to. Because he hadn't defended his position and he hadn't defended the OWF. Because he lost to Talon. With a scream he kicked the locomotive across the room, the boiler flying off and only just missing the head of Stevie Guile as he opened the door. Reaching across the wall he flicked the light on, and slowly surveyed the scene, taking in each broken carriage, every upturned station. "What the hell..?" "I don't want to play anymore." "That... That was my father's train set. My grandfather's train set. My great great great grandfather's fucking train set.." "Yes, but I don't want to play anymore." "But you... you fucking love trains...." Jackrabbit didn't know how to make it any clearer that he didn't want to play. Earlier that day, Stevie had found him sat in this dark room, staring at an hourglass. He was watching the time, waiting patiently for his moment. He took the hourglass from his pocket. Had Stevie not realized that he had been watching the time? That he had been counting the moments? No matter how long he waited, it was never his moment though. /span> "You turned the light out. How the hell were you planning to play in the dark?" "I wasn't playing. It just happened, Stevieo. I was just thinking about Talon.." "Hey man, what've I told you about thinking about Talon? That shit is over now, 'Rabbit." "He beat me." "No, he.." There was a pause. A momentary pause, where Stevie seemed to mull the words over. "You know what, yeah.. yeah he did beat you. That was in November. You've won matches since then. And you've lost others too. You got your ass thrown out of Brawltopia.. hell, you nearly died at least three times in the Christmas Tree match." "You mean... EJ Slayer is right..?" "What? No!" Finally Stevie approached him, though Jackrabbit could sense his trepidation. There was a twinge in his mind, an uncertainty, it felt like... caution. "No, man.. Slayer is a manipulative douche bag. He's picking this fight because he is scared. He's scared of you, 'Rabbit.. don't you see that..?" "Scared? Scared of Jackrabbit? Me don't thinkso Stevieo..." "Why do you think he's picking this fight? Slayer has nothing to gain from goading you. Why do you think The Movement.." "Talon." "Oh fuck Talon, this isn't about Talon. Slayer was in your face before Talon even showed up on his radar. Slayer is riding Talon's momentum, and he's going to make his own by taking out Talon's trash.." "Trash?" "Shit, no.. I didn't mean trash. I just mean that... Okay, look, you lost to Talon. And better than anybody in the OWF, EJ Slayer knows what that has done to you. He's going to finish where Talon left off, 'Rabbit... but only if you let him. He'll see you lose to Eva..." "Lose.." "Only if you let him! You can beat Eva... hell, you did it once already at Rise Or Fall. You took that bitch's title from around her waist, and now you get to prove that was no fluke." "Fluke? Eva knows all about flukes.. Eva fluked her way into a Tag Title reign with Moxie. RIGHT PLACE, RIGHT TIME! Eva fluked her way into not one, not two, but three World Title opportunities.. RIGHT PLACE, RIGHT TIME! Eva pinned a crippled Eclipse to make herself a World Champion. RIGHT PLACE, RIGHT TIME! But Little Eva's luck is running out, and Addiction will not be the right place for Eva, Addiction will not be the right time for Eva. Eva needs this... Two straight losses to Kid Dynamo, Eva needs this more than anybody in the fed. Anybody except your friendly neighborhood Jackrabbit! It's no secret that I lost something at Brawltopia, Stevieo. You knows it and I knows it. I lost my Tag Team Championship, I lost my bestest friends.. both of them!.. and I LOST MY SMILE. My itsy bitsy smile. Eva and me, me and Eva.. we're meeting at a crossroads this week. 'Cos she's in much the same place as Jackrabbit, ain't she? Since losing the OWF World Championship, she's suffered defeat after defeat as the clouds shift to find their new alignment. And where does Eva sit in this new alignment? Where does Jackrabbit sit? We'll find out at Addiction." Jackrabbit placed the hour glass on the floor, the sand trickling down, and sat himself amongst the debris. He had found the remains of one of the locomotive engines. He began to move it around on a tattered piece of track. "Eva has spent so long following the track.. chortling along happily, always knowing where the final station would be. That is until�" He pulled the train from the track and sent it recoiling across the room. Stevie Guile ducked out of the way just in time to save his own head. "SHE CAME OFF THE RAILS! Hah ha haaa! How did Eva cope with her defeats? With her losses? She picked up a nursery rhyme with some dark and scary words that turned her into the Wicked Witch of the West! Donning a scary druid cloak, Eva is trying so desperately to hide the fact that she is still an over-tanned, over-oiled spoilt likkle brat. She stopped being a two-bit Moxie and started being a two-bit Eclipse! Swapping her million dollar mansions and fancy limos for a dark room with a simple table and an hourglass- oh hey Eva, where have I seen that before? Have you been staring in through my window, aaaah haa ha haaaa! Nobody is buying your Embrace The Darkness hashtags, De La Cruz. And no one will buy the one-eighty you do when it all comes tumbling down. You don't know the first thing about a broken soul, about darkness looming� truth be told you likely think they're the latest colognes from Chanel! Ha ha haa! You spew so-called dark poetry, calling yourself the Outsider, desperately scrabbling to hide your money down the couch, desperately rubbing the fake tan off your million dollar body- How can someone who has spent their whole life PAYING TO FIT IN know how it feels to be an Outsider? I knows how it feels.. I shook the foundations of the GWO when I debuted in 2002, y'know? And since that very day I have been laughed at, ridiculed, treated like the class-clown- never fitting in, never treading the same little tightrope that all the other peoples did. I've been called the Lunacy Act, I've been labelled The Unorthodox One. I've been called an idiot, a moron, a retard. I've been called insane, crazy, UNSTABLE. And I've been told I'm a perennial mid-carder, that I'm "predominantly a Tag Team talent", told that the main event doesn't want a happy laughing man in tartan long-shorts! And you dare to try dropping me on MY skull at Clash of Champions and then call YOURSELF an OUTSIDER!?" His eyes went wide, a look of unadultered disbelief on his face. Stevie did his best to remain interested, though in truth he was more inclined towards trying to save what remained of his cherished train set. "You're all torn up because Moxie Roxie was the better woman at Shock And Terror. And Brawltopia. And you lost a shiny belt and 12 contender points. THAT'S YOUR REASON?! Try having your mind fried by the person you call friend, try being shoved from a 10 storey apartment block! Try forgetting who you are, losing your family, try being squashed and held down and never afforded the opportunity to BE in a main event, let alone lose one! Try being stabbed in the back by not one but two tag-team partners, with no redemption to speak of! And YOU'RE evil now because you read it in a book somewhere? Aaa ha ha ha ha ha ha! Like everything in your life, this new-found darkness is a fad. A new coat to be worn whilst it looks shiny, to be shrugged off again when it's out of fashion. I can see your fate, Eva De La Cruz, and I know that when the time is right you will drop this ridiculous act and once more show the world what's really inside. A shallow empty shell, waiting for something to fill it, until that something is consumed and it is empty once more. Likely you will shed this farce when you have once again attained gold around your waist, isn't that how it always goes? The dark and bitter jaded soul casts scorn onto the world until she has found her redemption. There is no redemption for you, Eva De La Cruz, and so you will give up this game no doubt when you tire of it or it has become transparent. For me, this is no act, this is no game- and there is no redemption for Jackrabbit." Stevie had got the train set into some semblance of a neat pile, sorting the ruined from the salvageable. Paying his exploits no mind, Jackrabbit stopped his tirade and raised his voice to get his companion's attention. "STEVIE� At Clash they showed a highlight package to open the show. Did you see it?" "I didn't catch the show, I had some errands-.." "I saw it, Stevieo. They showed scene upon scene of the best and brightest the OWF has to offer, during their best and brightest highlight moments. Champions and former champions alike, to stress the theme.. A Clash of CHAMPIONS. The Jackrabbit featured in that package, Stevieo�" "Really? That's aweso-" "GETTING HIT WITH A HEADBUTT BY TALON! Falling victim to Death From Above is the highlight of Jackrabbit's OWF career!? Maybe EJ Slayer is right abouts me. Maybes I am a loser and a fraud, weak and pathetical. Maybe I is a non-achiever, maybe the OWF has turned its back on lil' ol' me... maybe this week.. NO, I AM NOT TURNING MY BACK ON THE OWF! I am pinning Eva De La Cruz for every single damned solitary person that had to sit through OWF programming from September to November. At Clash of Champions, I floored Kid Dynamo and I dominated Eva De La Cruz� but I did it because Slayer made me realize that the Kid Dynamos and the Eva De La Cruzs of this company LOOK DOWN ON ME! I will not be looked down on, and so I did what had to be done. What had to be done to prove EJ Slayer wrong, and to prove the OWF wrong. This week, I do the same thing again. But I don't do it for Chase Johnson, I don't do it for EJ Slayer� I do it for JACKRABBIT." Jackrabbit leaped up from the ground and kicked over Stevie's carefully piled stack of trains and rails and tunnels and carriages. The debris scattered across the carpet, and he began to scream, a wheezing, frustrated noise like an animal in pain. "Hey, hey, 'Rabbit.. 'Rabbit.." Jackrabbit wasn't listening, his hands moved to his hair, he tore at the strands. Stevie looked like he might put a hand on his companion's shoulder, but second guessed himself and chose to keep a distance. "Why Stevieo?! Why!? Why do you keep away from me?! Why do you hide!?" He launched himself toward Stevie, knocking over the hourglass. Stevie tried to dodge out of the way, rolling to the far wall, but Jackrabbit pinned him against it, and only then did Stevie realize that Jackrabbit had lunged not in attack, but for a hug. He hugged Stevie close, his head nuzzling on his shoulder. His voice had fallen to a whisper. "Do you think I don't see?! That I don't realize!? I know your fear.. I feel it, it flies around in your head like a hurricane, calming and storming, calming and storming.." "What do you mean? How do you see�" "It's a book, Stevieo. An open book to me, all the time, all of the open books.. I read your fear, Vanilly's confusion.. I read Talon's hatred, and Doc's grief.. I read Eva's insecurities, and EJ's determination.." "You read..?" "All of the things except FUN! Where did the fun go, Stevie? WHERE DID THE FUN GO?!" Stevie squirmed to get free of the hug. Though Jackrabbit made no move to harm him, he could feel the muscles tighten, and knew he was in a web, but not whether he was a spider or a fly. "Fun..? I can.. We can have fun.." desperately he scrabbled for words as the image of a half dozen exploding brains flashed into his mind. His eyes caught the train set, what was left of it. "You.. love trains. Do you want to.. see some real trains? We can go see some.." "Trainses?" "Yeah� trainses.. trains�" He released his grip on Stevie, the idea of seeing trains settling in his mind. He saw the bustling carriages, the glorious steam billowing out of the funnels� "Meet me at the train yard.. We'll see some trains.." "Yes yes.. I loves trainses, Stevieo.. That'll make things all right�" "Yeah. Yeah� it will�" * * * The Grand Canyon stretched out beneath her feet. A vast void, the cliff edges pincered around the Colorado River. The only thing above her was the sky, clear and expansive. The wind whipped around her blue hair, and for a moment she wanted to open her arms out wide and take it all in. On Vanilla's lap sat her notebook computer, the screen alight but mostly ignored as she looked out over the ravine. The OWF had come to Arizona, and she wasn't going to miss a chance to see the Grand Canyon. It was opportunities like this that had drawn her to Jackrabbit in the first place; she often boggled at how unaware he was of the great sights and sounds that his wrestling travel afforded him. But Jackrabbit was like that, unaware of most things most of the time. Sometimes she envied that blissful ignorance, and other times� Cassie had a similar kind of ignorance, she recalled. Her older sister knew the worth of travel though, and she had walked away from- she had abandoned- her loved ones to take that opportunity when the dancing gig had been offered to her. Cassie had been her best friend once, and Vanilla had needed her then. But Cassie had never been there for Vanilla when she needed her the most. Vanilla though, she'd have done anything for Cassie� "You don't pick convenient meeting points�" She hadn't seen Stevie making his way up the trail behind her. Shrugging, she closed the laptop case and scooted over to allow him room to sit. He took the space willingly, practically collapsing down beside her. "Hey. I told you I was bussing out to the Canyon today." "I'm getting too old to be climbing half way up the Grand Canyon just to meet you though, you know.." "I told you that you could meet me and Spyke this morning. But you insisted�" "Yeah, I wanted to catch you alone. I'm not a fan of playing 'third wheel'.." "I didn't know you knew any other position." Stevie levels her with a look, but he does not reply, still struggling to catch his breath. She'd have expected better fitness for someone who apparently spent half a decade running around the globe with a world class professional wrestler. Whether it was him or her, they'd both known how it felt to play third-wheel to Jackrabbit. So many times she'd wanted just to spend a day alone with the Unorthodox One; she'd even dragged him out to a night club one time. But Stevie was never five steps behind. Three had always been a crowd, but that was before Spyke came back into her life.. "Look, I wanted to talk about 'Rabbit.." "That doesn't surprise me, Steve." "It's Stevie.." "Yeah, is that what your mama called you?" "Did yours call you 'Vanilla'?" No, she didn't. She called her "Madeleine", but that name didn't represent who she was. Madeleine was 'Cassie 2.0' to Mum, Vanilla was her own person. "I guess between Vanillas, Spykes, and Jackrabbits you're pretty ordinary.." "Hey, I'm toting a name as made-up as the rest of you. Mine looks better on Visas though!" She laughed despite herself, but quickly resumed her poker face. She made a point of looking out over the Canyon in silence for just a moment before resuming the conversation. "What about him?" "He's different lately, isn't he?" Jackrabbit hadn't been the same since he lost his match to his long-time rival Talon, and the OWF Tag Team belts with it. That much was true. She'd never really gotten to the bottom of that relationship; not from JR, and not from Stevie. They'd been childhood friends, she knew. A life-time rival. Like the Edward to his Jacob, Cassie would have said. "Stating the obvious, much?" "Since.. The Arcade?" Now he mentioned it, Jackrabbit had seemed different when he returned from The Arcade with Stevie and that co.wboy guy, Doc Holloway. That was before Brawltopia.. before the Talon match. Nobody had told her anything about the events that took place that day, though. Like she was the silly schoolgirl that got left out of the important conversations. "What happened there, Stevie?" "I can't.." "You mean you won�t.." "It was sick, Vanilla. Completely fucked up. He.. hurt people. He hurt them bad." 'Spare me the Parental Advisory sticker' she thought. "Killed them? JR killed them?" "Yeah. But I.." he found himself, like he'd lost himself for a second. "I don't think he knows he did. But I know all about that though� little as I may wish to. What I don't understand is why? You know him better than.. well, you just know him. What's going on?" Stevie Guile was coming to her for advice about Jackrabbit. The guy who'd spent six or seven years in JR's company was asking her advice on understanding the psyche of the so-called Unorthodox One? "Hah, I don't know him so well as you think, dude. We just.. We talk a lot, sure, but it's never anything serious� half the time it doesn't make sense, but I guess you know that? JR is fun, unpredictable� he's.. wild and carefree, all about the laughs.. Well, he was." "The 'was' is what I'm trying to understand." "Don't ya think you're trying to understand something that was never meant to be understood. Whether he's running around making duck noises asking for custard to throw at windows, or whether he's sat in a motel room in the dark watching a fucking hourglass over and over.. he's still JR. He's Jackrabbit. And nobody's ever understood Jackrabbit except..." "He doesn't." "What?" "Jackrabbit doesn't understand Jackrabbit. Why do you think he's kept me around all these years. He needs someone to understand him for himself." "I� never saw it like that. I think I-� I like him, but I never understood him." And isn't that exactly why she liked him? Because everybody liked Vanilla too, though no one understood her. She'd given herself that name because she wanted to be a mystery- she liked mysteries, the strange cases that kept life exciting. "I understood him, once. Not just in like a� babysitter kinda way. But I understood him like someone understands a�" "Friend?" "Yeah, I guess. It was hard, you know.. hiding him for all these years. Keeping him safe because he was completely incapable of keeping himself safe. Listening to what he said, and knowing what he actually meant. He needed me." "You mean 'needs', right?" "Hm? Oh, yeah.. I guess. And I guess I need him. I never.. I never had anybody else. I never knew my Ma, and my Pap always.. he didn't much like how I turned out. Said I'd never amount to anything. I always hoped to prove him wrong, but it never brought him any closer. He.. He never said he loved me, and now it's.. well, it's too late for him." "I'm� hey, I'm sorry. I know how you feel. I mean, I've got Spyke now and everything, and that's.. that's great. But my Mum never liked how I acted, neither. My Mum wanted me to sing, and to dance.. to be able to do a half-dozen heel spins and Dos-a-Dos. My sister could do them all, and I.. well, I tried, you know? But it wasn't me. Cassie always said.. well, never mind. But yeah, Mum, she.. she caught me listening to.. god, I think it was Pantera� hah, you can't do a heel spin to Pantera.." Stevie laughed, and for a moment they just looked at each other. Like there was an understanding. Then a stiff wind off the Canyon caught his yellow baseball cap, and he had to make a mad leap to grab it. Now it was her turn to laugh, as he looked up almost bashfully. She'd never seen him bashful before, always marching around in his scraggly grey suits. "Hey, listen.. I think it'd be good if you met up with Jackrabbit later. I'm.. well, I don't like this stuff with EJ Slayer right now.." "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's some screwed up shit, JR would be best if he just kept well alone. But he won't.. he has pride, I think, buried in there somewhere. Slayer is fucking with him, and he's going to take that out on Eva on Sunday. You know she's going to pull that crap of talking so much shit she could fill a book with it." "A book with less meaningful content than the IKEA catalogue.." " Hah yeah.. it's obvious her plan is to just take matches until she has enough of those.. whatsit points for a title shot. JR's not in this for the points though, and I don't think this match is good for him, either." "It's not. He doesn't need more violence in his life. He needs a friend. I think it'd be good for you two to catch up. Good for both of you. He's going to the Train Yard tonight, why don't you meet him there..?" "Oh, really? Yeah.. Yeah I guess I've been a bit distant lately, huh? Alright, sounds like a plan." "Cool. I'd best get going.." Adjusting his tie, he rises from the cliff face and heads towards the path. She flicks her laptop open and checks the screen before peaking over the lid. WEAREWATCHING. "Oh hey, Steve.. Stevie.." "Yeah?" "Thanks.." "Oh.. oh yeah. No problem.." * * * The OWF hadn't plumped for one of the nicest hotels in Arizona, at least not for one of their mid-card talents and his motley crew. So Stevie found himself walking through a shady part of town, where the walls were graffitied and the windows boarded. Some hooded youths stood across from the entrance to the hotel, doing some sort of deal; or else looking for one. The sun wasn't down yet, but still Stevie found himself wishing for the Swiss Army knife he used to carry in his suit pocket, back before his life had him flying from state to state each and every week. As he approached the hotel he began to recognize one of the youths, one who didn't belong. Matted brown hair cut short, a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Keeping a distance and a watchful eye, Stevie continued on his path up the steps to the reception when the youth spotted him and began heading over. "Spyke," he said in greeting, still a little unsure at what he had seen. Spyke stuffed his hand into his jeans pocket and nodded. "Hey, it�s.." "Andrew now, yeah I know." Awkwardly, Spyke held his free hand out for a handshake, which Stevie ignored. He quickly retreated it back to his pocket. "What you doing out here?" "Oh, just uhm.. you know, catching up with some buds." "I thought this was your first time in Arizona? You have friends here?" "Well I just.. I just met them, obviously. So hey.. uhm, Vanilla's not back yet is she?" "Nah, she's still at the Canyon. Twitting, or something." "You mean 'tweeting'. She don't have Twitter though." "Yeah, whatever. Listen, how long are you-" "-Thanks for letting me tag along with you guys. It's uhm.. it's good to be able to be close to Vanilla again, you know?" Stevie glanced at the hotel entrance idly, and then back to Spyke. Though he now wore shirts and had tidied his hair up, he couldn't get rid of the gaping hole in his ear where a large flesh-tunnel had once been, or the tattoos that covered both of his arms in skulls and thorns and tits. "Yeah, no problem�" "And I know the Rabbit Man hates me.." "Hate is a strong word, especially for the.. uh.. 'Rabbit Man'." "Nah, it's cool. I done some shit to deserve it. I played people about, I abused them and I abused myself. But uh, everyone gets a fresh start, right?" "Everyone does. So hey, can I level with you?" "Yeah sure man, we're cool." Stevie grabbed him by the shirt collar. His arms bristled, he wasn't a strong man but he tensed up, holding Spyke tight. "What the-" "I'm not buying the bullshit you're selling. And neither is Jackrabbit." "Hey what? I'm just.." Spyke struggled to gain some distance, but Stevie was the stronger of the two and the smaller man was going nowhere. "Shut up and listen. I know guys like you, you're a dime a dozen, and I know full fucking well what you'd spend that dime on too. I don't much give a shit, and Vanilla's a big enough girl to sort her own problems. But Jackrabbit, he has an uncanny way of seeing people- and right now, this OWF stuff with Talon and Slayer and Dynamo and Eva- it's got him in a mood you don't want him in. I'm just warning you, man to man, you do not wanna get on the wrong side of The Jackrabbit." "Ease up bro, I don't know where you got this beef.." Spyke had both hands up, a non-aggressive stance, there just to keep some distance between them. He was no threat to Stevie, and Stevie knew it. "Now I'm going to do you a favor. Jackrabbit and Vanilla are meeting up in the Train Yard tonight- I want you to go along and try and make some peace, before this shit gets out of hand." "Alright, alright.." he nodded, trying to step back down the stairs, but Stevie held him in place just long enough to reach inside Spyke's jeans pocket and pull from it a small pouch of white powder. Stevie tossed it to the floor and finally released the smaller man. "Be there." * * * The Train Yard had been abandoned for the better part of thirty years. First the diesels, then the electrics, had driven the old ways of train and locomotive operation into a dazzling new age. Like so much else, the majesty and beauty of the original rail had been swapped out for faster, quicker, sleeker; quieter, characterless carbon-copies. This reminded Jackrabbit of his Addiction opponent Eva De La Cruz. Eva was the 21st Century wrestler. Sleek, attractive, unimpressed by the old ways that came before her. And changeable. Eva was most definitely changeable. When the first galvanic batteries were placed into a locomotive engine, the train industry had had to change. Rail had opened up goods and passenger travel in a way that had only been dreamed of beforehand. And just as rail had made redundant the horse-drawn carriage, electricity had made redundant steam propulsion. Rail had allowed itself to morph, allowed itself to be malleable to the necessary changes of the times in order to stay relevant. And wasn't that exactly what Eva had been doing? Her change wasn't organic, it was necessitated by her desire to stay relevant. For a moment, Jackrabbit wondered how he knew all this. He'd never had interest in the history of rail before. And then he noticed him, and realized these weren't his own thoughts. A solitary guard watched over the otherwise abandoned Train Yard. With a single glance, Jackrabbit knew that he had worked here for over fifty years, and now in his seventy-second year of life he knew he would never work anywhere else. He had loved the Train Yard when it was at its peak, steam engines shunting coal trucks and carriages in and out of the yard, or coming here when they needed some restoration. Restoring the old engines had been his favorite way to spend a shift, and truth be told the old man knew he'd spent too much time with those engines and not enough with his children. Going deeper inside his mind, Jackrabbit knew this man as George, and saw George's children swimming around the quicksilver stream, growing from tiny fetus-like forms into toddlers, toddlers that didn't know what a father was, to children that knew only a mother and that father wasn't home much, to teenagers, that resented the very concept of a father. He saw how those children began to see father as only George, the man their mother inexplicably loved and who spent more time on his engines than he did at home. They'd found their 'father figures' elsewhere. The teenagers left home, and now they didn't need George, and as Rosemary passed away, they needed nobody and nobody needed George. But George had his Train Yard, even when the engines were inoperable, like the rest of George's life, he had his engines. And Jackrabbit had his wrestling, and even when the wrestling was losses and forfeit like the rest of Jackrabbit's life, he had his wrestling. George had thrown those children away, and Jackrabbit would throw his friends away, allow his fate to be made, allow George to wither and die, allow Jackrabbit to wither and- "What's up buttercup?" Vanilla was here at the Train Yard, dressed in her usual black and pink get-up, chains on her jeans, stockings on her arms. Her hair was blue today, he noticed. He liked blue. Jackrabbit wanted to pounce around, to hop up and down and scream "Vanillykins!" He felt the desire tugging at him, he felt the urge to do a cartwheel and land perfectly in front of her, or perhaps to knock her over and laugh and laugh. "Why are you here?" was what he said. "Pleased to see you too, JR! Didn't Stevie tell you?" "Stevie doesn't tell me lots of things." "Well, he thought it might be super-cool for us to hang out. Though if he'd told me how dingy this Train Yard was�" The trains were mostly just boxes of rusted metal. The tracks were missing rails here and there, the carriages were decrepit or missing. Like Eva's soul. "I like it here." "Well you� you've always had an eclectic taste!" "Sounds like someone I know.." What was he doing here? Jackrabbit hated him, he had seen his essence, knew how dark and rotten he was inside. But around that rotten core he had plastered honey and sugar, and Jackrabbit saw how Vanilla buzzed around that honey and sugar, never seeing the rot that Jackrabbit saw. Why did nobody ever see the rot that Jackrabbit saw? "Spyke? What on earth are you-" "Stevie told me to come down here, said you guys were chillin'." "Yeah, JR was just saying how he-" "I hate it here." "Yeah, I'm with you on-" "You's not with me. You's never with me. Never never. I've seen your fate, and I will not stand idily by and-" "'Rabbit, how about we talk about something nicer, huh?" Stevie had arrived, in his usual suit and his yellow tie and matching cap. Stevie had promised to be here, to make the day fun again. That's why they'd come to see the trains, but these weren't the steaming juggernauts that Jackrabbit had hoped for. These were broken relics, they'd had their heyday and now it was time for them to decline. Like George the security guard. Like Eva De La Cruz. "I'm so glad you guys all managed to make it. Doesn't it feel like forever since we were all together like this?" "Christmas Day yeah! You remember Christmas, JR?" "Yes, yes. We fell from the tree. Lorenzy and Redemption and me. We fell and it all went black, I could see the stars, but not THE star, not the right star.." He had been robbed that day. Robbed of his retribution, robbed of his salvation. Robbed of the fate that he knew had to be made. His fate was stolen, torn away by Jesse Williams and by him, the winner, by Nick Perry, the would-be hero of the OW- "So! What say we take a look around? I bet there's-" "That won't be necessary, Steven.." None of them had noticed the approach of the man called Tero Haber, the jackal that hunted and hunted with less respite than even the great hunter, Talon, gave. Walking calmly and casually towards them, following the impromptu path of a torn up rail track, Tero hadn't even dressed for the occasion, his usual combo of baggy T-shirt and chino pants. "There's absolutely nothing to see here. Trust me, I've had my men scout this entire place three times over. The security guard is ever such a nice man when he thinks you're a tourist." Sure enough, old George was nowhere to be seen. Jackrabbit's instincts had kicked in, and despite the 10 foot distance, he'd adopted a fighting stance, ready for the inevitable. The laughing fool had met this man before, he remembered.. an Arcade.. "Personally, this place makes me absolutely sick. What a sorry waste of good land! This is less a museum and more a graveyard, wouldn't you say? An epitaph to a long, long forgotten age, to an archaic and frankly inefficient method of transportation. It's laughable that we still use these glorified carriages at all, but to think that we used to feed these machines a constant supply of fuel, like we believed it in endless supply. Ultimately though, they would always run out of steam. And so too has this little cat and mouse; or should that be, cat and rabbit?" Vanilla and Spyke had huddled behind Jackrabbit, but Stevie stood to his side in defiance. Jackrabbit sought the mind of this lunatic Haber, pursued those little silver orbs but there were none to be found. If he could just climb the monochrome wall that was there, could just scramble up and over he was sure to find the minefield of memories, the thresholds of thoughts that- "No nonsensical retort, bunny? No witty cynicism, Mr. Guile?" "Listen, Haber.." "�you're outnumbered, asshole. Why don't you just back off right now..." Tero laughed, a ponderous and awkward chortle. He continued, that whining lisp on top of the thick Swedish accent scraping on Jackrabbit's mind like a nail on a chalkboard. "Ah, who is this? Another disposable pawn on the great chessboard? Another throw-away character in this merry band? Of course, your irrelevance in all this is matched only by your... ignorance." The sound of guns being readied is unmistakable all around them, and Jackrabbit isn't alone in surveying the scene. Spyke, Vanilla and Stevie all look around nervously, as a suited man appears on top of the nearby carriage, another behind the engine, another beside Haber, another on the tracks behind them, another on the platform. Each and every man is armed, each and every gun is pointed at the four, and Tero Haber merely shakes his head, almost in disgust. "I believe that's "Checkmate", little pawn." "Look Haber, we don't want this to be a repeat of what happened in the Arcade.." "Aha, on something we can agree Mr. Guile. But don't worry your backwards mind, we are ever-learning, ever-changing. And this time we do not intend to allow you the time for your shenanigans. Already I've spoken too much- Shoot them." Jackrabbit moves first, instinctively, grabbing Vanilla and Spyke's arms and dragging them with him underneath the train carriage. From his vantage point, Jackrabbit can see Stevie dart the other way, managing to sandwich himself between two tankers just in time for the bullets to go whizzing by his head. More bullets make a pinging sound against the side of the carriage that the three huddle beneath. Jackrabbit can hear Vanilla's labored breathing, can feel her heart against his side, can sense the panic in her mind. "They're going.. they're going.. to kill us�" "I don't get it," Spyke states the obvious. "How the fuck did they find us?" "They found us.." it had dawned on him the moment Tero mentioned scouting. "Because somebody told them where we'd be.."