Juggernaut

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The locomotive roared headlong through a rippling, caramel sandscape. A dust-streaked behemoth jetting black diesel fumes. A plough welded to the forward buffer bar scoured the dune-choked rails in a series of sand-bursts, like a speedboat smacking through chop.

The engine looked like it tore out of hell. A shattered cyclopean nose lamp. Bodywork pitted, scarred, scorched black. Maintenance panels ripped away. Cables trailed and sparked.

The windshield was smashed. The cab was empty. The throttle was jammed at full power and lashed with rope. Rev needles at max. A tool box wedged the trip-brake pedal open. Every surface dusted in sand: the console, the driver’s bar-stool seat, the plate floor.

The track ahead was blocked by a high fence half submerged in sand. Rusted chain-link propped up by metal stakes. The barrier stretched to vanishing point north and south.

Corroded stencil signs. Alternate English/Arabic. A warning to coalition troops and camel-driving Bedouin:

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