THE HAUNTING PAST: MYSTERY OF THUNDER ROAD

THE HAUNTING PAST: THE MYSTERY OF THUNDER ROAD PROLOGUE: In the 1950's, groups, of teenage hot rodders, would be modifying their cars, to be the fastest thing on the road. In most, such, races, the winner, of the illegal drag races, would win the car title, of the losers car. In a "special event", however, the leaders, of the various, car, clubs, would have come up with an idea, which would win wide-spread support. The idea would be, for a single drag, set up like the Indy 500. Due to the tightness, of the course, however, only two cars could race, side by side. This is why a new rule would be adopted. The winner would NOT be the FIRST car, over the drag line, but the car, with the fastest lap. The rules were simple. The driver, of the fastest car, would be allowed to choose any car, that he wanted, and it would be his. The same, with the rest of the cars. Winners had choice. Losers would walk home. With the ladies watching, from the embankment, and timers, at both ends of the course, the engines would rev, and drivers would prepare for the drag of their lives. When the signal was given, the cars sped out, all trying for first place. Only three cars engines sputtered, and died. The drivers were declared "Dis-Qualified, due to engine trouble" Still, the timers, and the crowd, watched, as the cars tore up the "raceway", vanishing into the night, except for tail lights. Maybe five minutes after the lights vanished, the starting line would call the finish line, asking "When are you going to tell us who won?" When the finish line would respond "Win what? We are, still, waiting for the first car. Where did they go? Stop off for a beer?" After half an hour, of waiting, both ends began to investigate the "raceway", thinking that the drivers were down. Even when start and finish met in the middle, there was no sign of the dragsters. No fuel vapors. No skid marks. Cars and drivers, were gone, period. This left the un-answered question of "WHERE did they go?" Over the following years, a wide variety, of witnesses, would report witnessing the passage, of the racers, along the original route. No matter how often the local police would stake-out the passage, however, the dragsters only seemed to appear to those who had no knowledge, of the "vanishing act". Naturally, once the teens were listed as "Missing", for twenty-four hours, All Points Bulletins had gone out. The year, when the raceway should have been closed, permanently, was 1963. This was the year when an environmental activist group began collecting samples, of motor oil, and transmission fluid, from the "raceway". The environmental group had been "radical", in its demands, for good reason. When the space was not being used, as a raceway, it was used to divert rainfall from the city, running an un-obstructed line, directly to the river. A river, which fed the local water department. The environmentalists had filed a petition, demanding that the water supply be tested. No one had been more shocked, than the supervisor of the water works, when the results came in. Not only were the ratio's, of motor oil about four times higher than allowable, by law, but so was the amount of transmission fluid. What caused the city to close down the duct, until further notice, was the fact that the tests showed the presense of lead. Lead, in enough concentrations, to make adults ill, as well as damage childrens developing brains. While the city was certain that the motor oil, and transmission fluid, were being illegally dumped, just to avoid processing charges, what concerned everyone was the presense of the lead. Since lead had been declared a toxic substance, no one sold lead, anymore. This is why, in 1963, the duct had been closed down, with the entrance walled off, with a concrete barrier. Over the years, since 1963, the government had spoken of everything from toxic waste clean-up, to simply pouring a new floor, over the toxins, then, once dry, re-opening the duct. From what Tami and I were lead to understand, even as sightings continued, so did the presense, of the toxins. While there was wide-spread suspicion, in the sixties, seventies, and eighties, that modern dragsters might be cutting holes in the chain link fences, then using the duct, for more races, property inspections showed no damage. Yet, despite decades, of security, and observation, the sightings continued, as did the appearances of lead. One police officer, who was, promptly, fired, had suggested that the TYPE of lead made him wonder if the presense of lead, were the result of dragsters crowding, and bumping, one another. When asked just HOW the cars made it through the concrete barrier, the officer had said "I am just making an observation". Since the chief of police did not want such talk, around town, the officer was fired. According to the case-file, beginning in the late 1970's, locals reported the possibility that dragsters were following them, from various businesses, to their homes. One womans complaint, that a 50's dragster had sat across from her house, on four, consecutive, nights, would have been ruled a "crank/lonely", but only until a neighbor verified that atleast one of the men, in the dragster, looked just like Fonzie, from Happy Days. When the police joked "Let me guess. The other one looked like Richie Cunningham." The witness would say "Most certainly NOT! The other boy looked like James Dean!" When the police chief got the report and asked "Richie Cunningham? Fonzie? James Dean? Dragsters? You expect me to file this?" The officers would say "That is what the witnesses said." The chief of police was prepared just to shred the reports, atleast until after his shift was over, a few weeks later. The chief would report "Sighted dragster, in parking lot of local grocery store. Would not have paid it any attention, since local kids are into nostalgia, except for the fact that the two occupants seemed to be watching the store, as if on stake-out." While I was hungry, for some Hungry Man dinners, I decided that dinner could wait, just long enough to find out what the draggers were doing. For reasons I wont pretend to understand, I watched as Miss Agnes Johnson emerged from the store, with her groceries, entered her car, without a fuss yet, just as she keyed her ignition, so, to did the draggers. This is why I decided that Hungry Man could wait. As silently as possible, I slid into "line", behind Miss Johnson's car, and the dragster, and followed them to the womans home. At her home, all three of us watched the young woman enter her house. Now, my belly might have been un-settled, but I would swear, on a Bible, that the draggers did a hand-clap, inside their car. When they pulled away, from the Johnson home, I decided to have a talk, with them. Didn't turn on my lights, until we were out of the residential area. I know it will sound impossible but, after I turned on my lights, and the dragster turned a corner, I turned, preparing to stop, behind the dragster, yet found nothing but empty air, in front of me. In just two seconds, flat, car, and occupants, were gone. When a slow cruise, of the area, turned up nothing, the police chief returned to the store, then drove to his own place. While the chief might have wanted to station more cruisers, throughout town, the limited size of both the city, and his force, made this impossible. While the police force did its best, in taking reports, fom witnesses, this just didn't seem to have the desired effect. The "straw", which caused the police chief to call in the Brown Agency, was the fact that persons, unknown, were using the legend, of the missing drivers, to cause property damage. The vandals were "good", too. Using cars, similar to the dragsters (only with silenced exhaust), the dragsters had begun ripping up the lawns, of certain properties. One neighbor reported that, one evening, while a family was away, that the dragster backed onto the lawn, and someone, described as "Looking similar to James Dean", got out of the car, wound some chains around porch pillars, then the dragster "burned rubber", taking the porch out, with it. Since the chief KNEW what would happen, if the state, or federal, police got involved, the chief asked an old friend, for an introduction. This is how Tami and I got involved. In the police chiefs "official" report, the events were believed to be the work of copy-cats. Why else use 1950's clothes, cars, and so on? Since the main topic, of concern, was the duct/raceway, Mr. Black had sent a team, just to re-verify the substances, found on the floor, of the duct. Mr. Black would submit a report, asking "Why would anyone go to the trouble, of using modern ingredients to create oil, and transmission fluid, of a type, not used in decades?" Based upon the paint shavings, Mr. Black would suggest "The best alternative is that someone is, intentionally, adding high doses, of lead, to the paint the cars are using. For some reason, they want us to THINK that the paint is old." As for the list, of suspects, everyone, on the police list, had been reported missing, since the night of the big drag. Even if the drivers were no more than sixteen, on the night in question, we were looking at between 70, and 85 years ago. As for the reason why the case was listed as "un-solved", over the years, the reason was simple. Neither cars, wreckage, nor bodies, had been discovered. (Some fans, of science fiction television, suggested that the cars might have driven through a portal, to another dimension.) A local church was promising that, since the drivers were young, and without any, real, sin, on their hearts, that the Divine had called them to Heaven. The question, which this did not answer, was "Even if the Divine called the souls to Heaven, would the Divine take the cars, as well?" What use would a dragster be, in Heaven? These, and other questions, were the reason why Mr. Brown accepted the case. While Mr. Brown would tell us "Dont get your hopes up. This might be nothing more than human grand-children, trying to "play" dragster." When Tami would ask "IF it is the spirit world?" Mr. Brown would say "Normal, investigation procedure." During G.S. 2's flight, to the case location, Tami and I noted just how long the town seemed "frozen, in time". The police cruisers had no video equipment, nor laptop computers. In fact, the police cars retained Citizen Band (C.B.) Radio. There was no video monitoring, of traffic flow, and, IF the file was correct, the street lights still used incandescent bulbs. It was a good thing that our pilots had adopted the policy of landing, at night. In the day time, our plane COULD be mistaken for an attack craft. (The same concern the Soviets had, when G.S. 2 touched down, on Soviet soil, to investigate sightings, of Czar Nicholas 2.) Of course, the discretion, of "hiding" G.S.2 was only "Round One", of this case. According to the print photo's, in the case file, either the photos, of local transportation, were decades out of date, or people retained use, of 1950's, and 60's, automobiles. This would mean that our new century automobiles would "stick out", like a battleship. Only my coaster bicycle would fit in with this towns transportation. It would seem that, by the time, when we arrived, that the police chief was not only continuing his own investigation, but had arranged a meeting, between us, and the towns record keeper. The reason: While the dragsters remained under cover, of darkness (probably to avoid easy identification), more reports were coming in, of dragsters, containing only a single occupant, and asking directions, to businesses. When Tami would ask "What is so suspicious about people asking directions?" The records keeper would look at the chief of police, who would say "You have to understand. This town is very old, and it has deep roots." When Tami would ask "How deep?" The police chief would say "The dragsters ask for directions, to stores, whose owners, and names, have changed, many times, over the years." When Tami would ask "Such as?" The police chief would say "In some cases, the drivers ask where grocery stores are. In other cases, the question is "Where is the gas station?" It would be me who would say "Lets cut to the chase. WHO are these dragsters looking for?" The police chief would, hesitantly, say "Bentleys garage WAS on Sommerset Road, originally. Great garage, good gas, and a candy counter, for us kids. I only remember it when I think of days gone by." When Tami would ask "You say that Bentleys garage WAS located on Sommerset Road. Where is it, now?" The police chief would yield to the historian, who would say "As near as the records show, Bentleys garage began as a repair shop, in the horse and buggy days. Since Mr. Bentley was un-sure of if the gasoline powered transports were just a passing fad, he kept half of his stalls, for carriages, and only converted half, for the new automobiles. As more cars, then trucks, began coming to his shop, he converted all but one stall, to motor vehicles. When Mr. Bentley passed away, his son took over the business. By the time the chief, here, began visiting the garage, with his own father, the son was aging, and looking for someone to take over the garage." When Tami asked ""Why didn't his OWN son take over, for him?" the records keeper would say "The young Bentley wanted "more/different", out of life. This is why he took his savings, and enrolled in engineering school." The police chief would say "Mr. Bentley sold the garage to Carl Clank. A "shade-tree" mechanic. I think that is, still, the word for them." The police chief would add "Clank sold the original garage location, and moved it into his own garage. Maybe eight blocks from Mr. Bentley's location." Tami would suggest "Something tells me that it does not end there." The records keeper would say "You are quiet correct. Carl ran the shop right "into the ground". He thought that people would just wait, until he finished repairing cars. When they didn't, he told them to ""Go somewhere else. They did". Yeah, they went to Coyote Joe. A man who had been doing spot automotive repairs since anyone, alive, can remember. When Tami would ask "Where did Coyote Joe move the repair place to?" The Chief would say "To a warehouse. A place built, to store lead ore, back when this place was just a road-side ore processing plant. Once the lead went away, the warehouse was sold to a meat packing company. They scrubbed out all of the lead, and processed meat, until another company bought the property. Gave Coyote Joe a check, for $300,000." The chief would say "Since then, the warehouse has been used to store everything from car parts, to plumbing supplies. Anything you can name has been stored, there, from time to time." When Tami would ask "Any other locations, with such an interesting history?" The chief no-sooner said "Well..."" when the records keeper would say "The grocery store, which the dragsters reportedly ask about. It was in business from about 1945, to about 1965." When Tami would suggest "Mighty SHORT life span, for a town, of this size." The records keeper would say "Young woman, you miss understand. I said the store, that the drivers ASK about was only in business, for about twenty years. I never said it was the ONLY store." When Tami would say "Let me guess. It started out as a general store. Providing supplies for new arrivals. Over time, as the railroad came through, followed by the highways, the general store evolved into a grocery store. Maybe even a laundromat, as well." This is when the chief of police, and the records keeper, would fill in the "enormous HOLES", in Tami's tale. The store had been everything from a general store, to a Dixie Queen, Piggly Wiggy, Thompsons Food Basket, and others. Name changed about every ten, to twenty, years. While the store remained in the same location, nowdays, it was a ShopSmart. The chief even recalled his own, favorite, business. The now vastly out-of-date service center. The chief actualy smiled as he recalled "I remember being a young man, Driving into the station, while the crew checked my car. I didn't even have to leave my car, if I wanted anything. Those were the days, when service meant FULL service." When Tami would ask "Chief, if you believe that these are just high schoolers, then HOW could modern day kids know about what life was like nearly a century ago?" The records clerk would add "That is a very good question. I have even checked the records logs, to see if anyone has been doing research, on the area. Problem is, with sightings going as far back to the 1960's, we are at a loss." This is when a call came in, over the radio "Chief, unit four here." When the chief picked up the microphone, saying "Chief here. Whats up?" The caller seemed to be whispering, as he asked "Do you know if there is supposed to be a dragster, parked across the street, from the station." When the chief said "Not that I know of, why? What is it doing?" Unit four would say "Chief, it seems to be watching your office." A moment later, and unit four would report "Chief, that dragster is revving up its engine." Even as the chief yelled "Everybody DOWN!", and the entire, small, police station, fell to the floor, the place was filled with the ROAR, of a heavily-modified dragster. A moment after this, it felt like a tornado had ripped through the station. The space was tossed, like a tornado wind, even as the noise, of the dragster, ROARED. What I noticed, during the incident, was how the wind felt like what I rememberred in the days before air conditioning became standard, in cars. The feel of the wind, as the car drove by. Inside the police station, it felt like I was riding inside a dragster, with its top down. Papers, files, and office supplies, just went flying. Then, as the roar continued, I smelled a very familiar scent. That of gasoline. It was like I was standing over an engine, which was being tuned. It was not until a few moments after the engine noise died away, that the chief heard unit four calling: Base, this is unit four. If you can hear me, you wont believe what I just saw." When the chief keyed the microphone, asking "Unit four. WHAT did you see?" Unit four would say "The dragster. It began pouring out thick, dark, smoke, even as its engine revved." When the chief asked "Where is it, now?" Unit four would say "Thats what I mean. The car was sitting, in front of us, then it revved its motor, and produced a cloud of choking vapor." When the chief said "Never mind that. Where is it, now?" Unit four would say "Thats the trouble, chief. It vanished, inside the exhaust." Shortly after this, unit three would call in, saying "Suspect vehicle proceeding down Thunder Road, far in excess of speed limit." When the chief would ask "Unit three, can you intercept?" Unit three would reply "We dont even know they got down there." When the chief returned to his desk, and Tami asked "Thunder Road? Where is that?" The chief would say "Its a water diversion canal, designed to keep the city from flooding. All excess water is supposed to flow there." When Tami who, like myself, had watched many a dragster movie, asked "Are we talking about a waterway, being used as a drag-strip?" The chief would say "Maybe 75 years ago. Local history says there are, maybe, 100 demolished racers, in there." When Tami would ask "Why did unit three decline to pursue?" The chief would say "To our knowledge, all entrances, and exists, have been blocked, for decades. We dont even know HOW the cars get on Thunder Road." When Tami saw the chief looking about his small station, she told him "Relax. They are just letting us know that they know that WE are here." After the police chief all-but BEGGED us to find some answers, Tami set off, for the Hall of Records. She wanted to find any connection between the dragsters, and those they were following. While Tami did this, I would set out, to find more information on this Thunder Road, and more about the modern dragsters. It would turn out that the whole town knew about Thunder Road. The drags, winners and losers. It was when the question became "If it were you, how would you access Thunder Road?" Either people were just playing dumb, or they, truly, had no idea how to access the roadway. In fact, when asked how the environmentalists accessed the "road", a local, boom, operator would admit that he lowered the groups members over the barriers, to collect their samples. When I asked if the boom could handle a car, the operator hooked onto a nearby car, then kicked the diesel engine, of his truck, into high gear. While the boom DID lift the car, the noise was incredible. When my hearing returned, the boom operator asked "How can anyone, in town, miss that much noise?" My question, as well. Tami, it would seem, had far better luck than I did. While the young dragster owners admitted that they would LOVE access to Thunder Road, no one had a clue of how to do so, without making enough noise to wake the dead. Between visiting the Hall of Records, and her un-restricted computer access, aboard G.S.2, Tami began building a "history" of the town. A history, which even the Records Keeper had never considered. Now, sure, everyone, in town, knew which properties, that certain families had owned, since the area was founded, Tami would spend her time building a time-line, not just of "Those who Stayed", but of those, who left town, and whose families only returned when hearing of jobs, or to settle accounts. In her daily reports, to the Brown Agency, Tami began building such a comprehensive case that Mr. Blue, Mr. Black, and even Jackson, joined in the search. Mr. Brown was thrilled when Jackson agreed to join the research, since Jackson had plenty of previous knowledge, both of automobiles, and how to overcome barriers, without leaving any evidence behind. Jacksons past would prove in-valuable, in aiding the resolution of the case. While Tami, and the "gang", were working the towns past, I was left to contact local, and regional, paint manufacturers. Time after time, any company I visited. When asked about lead paint, all insisted "We would lose our license, if we sold lead paint. It is not only illegal, but deadly poisonous." When I asked "Do you know of anyone who MIGHT be willing to add lead, to paint, to make it APPEAR real?" I was reminded that a company could lose its operating license, if the feds even SUSPECTED lead tampering. While the paint companies were adamant, about the quality, and ingredients, used in making paint, the modern day draggers did admit to adding vodka, to gasoline. While some of the draggers were under legal age, they admitted that adding vodka to gasoline, gave engines more power. (One, retired, dragger, even boasted of the fact that, as a young man, he, often ran his car either on vodka, or on moon-shine, when he could get some.) When I asked the draggers about lead paint, all seemed in agreement. Lead was a heavy substance, which would weigh a car down. This is why no one used lead, anymore. Lighter base paint meant more speed. As for Tami, she got used to spending much time, either with old, dusty, journals, or sifting information, from databases. What my partner found shocked very few people, in town. Sometimes, a family left town, for three, four, even five, generations, before returning. Some of those, who came to town, did not even know that ancestors came from this city. These people included the librarian, a store clerk, garage mechanic, and dozens, of other people. In fact, it was not long before Tami could report, to Mr. Brown: "We have a connection, between the dragsters, which are following, and those they are following. IF our information is correct, the dragsters are following the grand-children, of those who turned the dragsters in, almost a century ago." It seems that the grand-father, of the garage mechanic, had turned in some draggers, after his son was run over, during an un-announced drag. Thankfully, the victim had been a sports star, and had excellent reflexes. When the cars bore down, on him, the athlete did a high jump, and the car caught his legs, instead of his torso. The athlete had suffered multiple fractures, of both legs, and been in-valided out of the schools varsity program. Since this meant no college scholarship, the students father had turned the draggers in, with each serving two years, under juvenile sentencing. Three, local, boys, had been sentenced, as adults, after they got so drunk, at a party, that they RIPPED their dates clothes off. When the girls tried to defend themselves, the boys switched from wanting sex, to wanting "revenge". NO woman was saying "NO", to these guys. Not without consequences. While it turns out that the boys were so drunk that they did not even remember the night, there were plenty of witnesses, and plenty of blood samples. The boys were convicted, as adults, and spent five years in prison. Victims had left town, to avoid being "labelled", and had not returned. Their descendants had, but the victims hadn't. Then there was the chief of police, himself. A man who had, "somehow" known that the dragster would tear into his police station. Tami learned the HOW, and WHY, from the towns history. Old newspaper headlines spoke of a time, decades ago, when a group, of bully drag racers, took up the challenge, of "raiding" public events. Church gatherings, and holidays, seemed to be the draggers favorites. They LOVED to plow through events, making people run for their lives. (This, while the draggers, reportedly, laughedd, out loud, at their prey.) The chief of police had been a young man at the time when the draggers raced through some sort of "revival" meeting. Then, a young boy, barely into his teens, he had watched, from behind a barrier, as the drag racer drove across church property, and its racers laughed, as victims ran for cover. According to the follow up reports, everyone, at the meeting, reported that, before the attack, the dragster had revved its engine, while its occupants gave church goers and "evil" smile. Based upon the pictures, that she found, with the articles, Tami understood why the chief had ordered everyone, in the station, down. The dragster had made several passes, opver the churches land, and only departed when the loone, policce cruiser, which was on duty, at the time, came "calling", lights flashing and siren blaring. The ONLY reason why the dragster got away from the police was that the police cruiser was built to be as quiet as possible, in residential area's. By contrast, the dragster was built for pure speed. While Tami checked the records, several times, she found noo evidence beyond the fact that police had chased the car as far as possible, then gave up, when they lost sight of the dragster. While a warrant was issued, the next day, Tami could find no record of the dragster EVER returning. What Tami found of great concern, was the fact that, on the night, of the "Great Drag", and in the following days, nothing, of the drivers, nor cars, had been found. Except for gasoline fumes, motor oil, and paint shavings, from where cars "bounced" off one another, there was nothing to show what became of the dragsters. In her report, to the Brown Agency, Tami would state "While test results are in-conclusive, I believe that this is due to the lack, of modern day test techniques. No one "shirked" their duty. They just did not have the resources, which we have, today." While I struck out, with the dragsters, it would be when Jackson arrived, that answers would be forth-coming. Answers, such as a hidden entrance to the duct/road. An entrance, which only a master thief, such as Jackson, would know to look for. While Jackson found the entrance, when Mr. Black asked "HOW, and WHY, would dragsters use oil, and transmission fluid, from decades ago?" Jackson would say "I did my part. I found the entrance. You can handle the rest." Jackson, however, did not depart, especially after he heard that the racers were bumping, and scratching, their cars, on the concrete sides, of the waterway. When Jackson would ask "Who would be dumb enough to bash their expensive paint jobs, by scarping the walls of the duct?" When Tami reminded us, all, of the race scene, from Grease, and about the racer, who enjoyed "chewing up" other drivers race cars, Jackson would remind my partner "That was a movie. That race was staged, for audience attention. REAL racers would never pull such stunts. The repair costs would wipe out a drivers savings." When I would point to the duct, saying "Yet, THERE is the evidence." Jackson remained to be convinced. By the time Mellissa Anderson brought her professional driving team, to town, Tami had traced even MORE of the towns history. Tami had even traced which of the dragsters had worked, as teens, at various businesses. More, importantly, she learned not only who had been hired, but who had been FIRED, as well. Most of the teens worked, for local businesses, but only until the price, of car parts, exceeded what employers were willing to pay. When workers began asking for advances, and pay increases, they had been dis-charged. Thunder Road had become the boys primary source, for car parts. When Tami submitted her daily report, to the Brown Agency, even Mr. Brown agreed with her findings. The dragsters were not just staying, to continue racing. They were staying on, for some sort oof "revenge", against those whom, the dragsters, FELT had done them wrong. The problem was that, if the dragsters were after former employers, and their families, then the dragsters were caught in an endless cycle. After all, those, who had been middle aged, in the 1950's, would be DEAD, in the modern day. As for the dragsters, which were doing the modern day damage, once Mellissa Anderson set up her teams, around town, it was easy to learn the truth. After all, as bizzarre as it sounds, even on digital pictures, camera's just did not have the visual range, of thee human eye. While three, of Mellissa's drivers WATCHED, as property was damaged, when the footage was run, through diagnostics, all that showed was a black mass, pulling close to each target, then pulling away. The torn up lawns were the result of the spirits, digging their spiritual wheels into reality, just enough to do damage. When Mr. Brown would ask Tami "Now that we know that we are dealing with spirits, what kind of time-line are we looking at, for case resolution?" While the very idea, of spirits, turned the Negro, Jackson, pale, it would be Mellissa Anderson who would suggest "Sir, first we need to find someone, who WANTS to make contact. It would be a horrible mistake just to walk onto Thunder Road and ask "Who wants to talk?"" When Mr. Brown would look at Tami, asking "Your thoughts?" Tami would say "I agree. Spirits dont make contact, on OUR terms. THEY set the terms. We wait for them." When Mr. Brown would ask "What about the full moon?" Mr. Black would say "Thirteen days to go. We are at the opposite end of the calendar, right now." When Mr. Brown would ask "Have you discovered in WHAT way that the vandalism is connected with Thunder Road?" Tami would say "I dont think that it is. Thunder Road is a place where drivers pit skills against one another. This, other, group. They seem to be involved, just for the thrill of scaring humans." Mr. Brown would say "Two groups, you say. Does that mean double the work?" Tami would say "I am afraid so." Mr. Brown would mention "I would be willing, under other conditions, to instruct you to handle the vandals, first, then go after Thunder Road. The problem, right now, however, is that a community needs its water supply. Their emergency reserve is down to 25%. If they cannot begin collecting water, again, soon, they will have to PAY to have water imported." When Mr. Black would ask "If these racers are spirits, then HOW can their cars be polluting the waterway?" Even Jackson agreed that this did not make sense. This is when Mr. Black had an idea. "What if we brought in a power wash unit, and scrubbed the waterway down, with ammonia, and bleach?" Mr. Brown would say "It would be expensive, however, let me speak to the mayor. Maybe I can recommend that a power-wash would be more cost effective, than shipping in water." Mellissa Anderson would ask "How will any of this aid us, with the phantom dragsters?" Tami would suggest "IF the cars are phantoms, as well, then the power-wash will wash away any residue." Mr. Brown would say "Let me get started on the offer. You should have an answer, by tomorrow afternoon." Still, neither Tami, nor I, could answer Mellissa Andersons question, about what to do, with the dragsters. After all, if a spirit is doing what they love, telling them to "take a hike", would be as insultive as a stripper, at a childs birthday party. Tami knew what was needed. The question was "How LONG would it take to find a spirit, which was willing to both communicate, and cooperate?" (If only Mother Superior would show herself.) While Mellissa Anderson had the idea that, if she, and one, fellow, driver, entered the Thunder Road races, Mellissa thought that she could win the dragsters acceptance. Maybe, they would talk to us, this way. Just one problem. While Mellissa Anderson joined some of the drags, she noticed how odd it was. starting with cars in front of, and behind her, and the other driver, yet, at just a short distance from the start line, the modern day drivers found themselves all alone. (WHERE had the other drivers gone?) It was not until Tami began really DIGGING into the events, of the BIG DRAG, that we began to find a solution, to the questions, at hand. While Tami could find no absolute proof, what she DID find was that, before the BIG DRAG, some semi's had been hired, for an "un-specified" load. For some reason, some extra long conveyor belts, and rigging, had been rented, by someone who paid cash. When I made the joke, asking "What did they do? Have the dragsters drive into the rear, of the semi's, then turn over the keys?" Tami would ask "Have you got a better idea?" While the chief was un-certain of HOW such trucks could be hidden, during the day, then rolled out, at night, without anyone noticing, the question the chief was stuck with was "Eveen if the cars were stolen, and re-sold, WHAT did the thieves do, with the drivers? The department had notices out, within hours." Tami would say "Correction. Under the OLD law, police were required to wait, for 24 hours, before declaring anyone missing." When the chief would ask Tami "Young lady, just how FAR do you think a 1950's semi could drive, in 24 hours?" When Tami would say "I have no idea. I was not born, then." The chief would say "Given the load, which dragsters would weigh, there was no WAY that the semi's could have missed the road-blocks. Not with fulll loads." I would suggest "Not until the drivers were dumped, alone the way." When the chief would say "Sir, explain that." I would say "Its just a thought but what would happen if the thieves DUMPED, as in killed, the draggers, and just kept the cars." The chief no-sooner growled "Impossible! All cars have keys. It would take DAYS to jack all of the starters." Tami would ask "Guys, what if the thieves did not KILL the draggers. What if they HID the drivers, instead?" The chief would ask "WHERE? We searched this whole county, from one side to the other. Never found any evidence." When Tami asked "Are you SURE that you looked every place?" This is when a deputy came to the chief, saying "We didn't check every place." When the chief asked "What do you mean?" The deputy would say "The lead ore mine." The chief would say "We did not need to check that place. Its been boarded up since the ore ran out. There has been a shield door, there, since I can remember." The deputy would mention "My father said that, when he was young, grandpa told stories, about him and his friends, playing, in the mine, as children, then making the mine seem haunted, every Halloween. When the chief asked "Just HOW did they get past that barrier door?" The deputy would say "MY grand-father says that, in those days, there was no door." It was shortly after the chief would say "I will contact the county judge, and get a search warrant." When Tami asked "How long?" The cheif would say "By morning." This is when Tami looked at thee calendar, and knew that our next, seven day, full moon, was at hand. If we wanted answers, from the dead, this was our chance. It was outside oof the police station that, after sunset, a young man, dressed, and looking, like James Dean, appearred, saying "Be careful in the old mine. That place is dangerous. Weak beams, hollow floors, falling parts." When I asked "Air quality?" "James Dean" would say If you dont stir the dust, then you should be fine. I give you this caution, though." When Tami would ask "What caution would that be?" "James Dean" would say "Br prepared for what you find. You wont like it." Even as Tami was asking "WHAT will we find?" "James Dean" would say "Heed the warning." With that, the young man would dissolve. Neither of us spoke to the police. Not until we arrived, at the mine. It seems that the reason why we were required to wait until eleven A.M. was because the current owner did not want to pay for a replacement lock. This is why the foreman spent his morning, searching for a key, no one had seen, in decades. "James Dean" was right, however. The mine was about as "safe" as a nuclear reactor. It, also, did not take long to find out the reason why the trucks were, never, stopped at the road-bocks. After the foreman opened the outer door (which sqeeked, like a siren), we had walked maybe a quarter of a mile, when "James Dean" appearred, before us, and the chief had to "SHH!" a deputy, as "James Dean" reminded us "Prepare yourselves for what you are about to see." When our group members began asking one another "Was that, really...HIM?!!" The chief would say "Only one way to find out." With that, the chief lead the way, forward. "James Dean" had been right. When we found what might have been a "lounge", we found not bodies, but body parts. Heads, arms, legs, and torso's, all looking like they had been ripped apart. Thankfully, after so many decades, anything, not eaten, by animals, had mummified. (It would take dental records to learn each victims identity.) While we pondered the reason WHY anyone would do such a thing, a deputy called out, from a side chamber. When we joined the deputy, we understood what he saw. This chamber was a "chop-shop". When the chief asked "These tunnels are to thin, for anything wider than an ore cart. HOW did they get the cars in. While most of us looked about the floor, and walls, it seems that one deputy looked UP, saw some rope, hanging from the ceiling, and asked "I wonder what this does?" Since the rope was tight, the chief had a total, of three deputies, HAUL the line loose. To everyones disbelief, what appearred was not a hatch, on a spring. It was a hand-powered elevator. Big enough for cars. (No wonder the cars had, never, been located). Based upon a review, of the mine, it was suggested that the bodies were in some kind of prison, while the cars were altered, enough, to be resold. While back, at city hall, the sheriff had hoped to learn the identity of, and arrest the owner, who had stolen the cars, and murdered the young men. Just one problem. The trucking business, which leased the trucks, was out-of-business, 25 years ago. Owner died, of heart attack. When the chief tried to locate the locals, for artrest and prosecution, all roads lead to the cemetary. Even the chief admitted attending some of the funerals. Well, after over 75 years, the criminals had escaped justice (or had they?) It was not until the police chief was ready to turn in his badge, for FAILING to serve his community, that Mother Superior would appear, saying "My son, you did the best with what you had to work with. NO one can fault you, for that." When the chief looked at the nun, saying "They got away with murder, AND car theft." Mother Superior put on her ALL-KNOWING smile, as she would say "I wouldn't say that." When the chief looked confused, the enforcer demon would appear, asking "Did I miss the fun?" Mother Superior would say "I was about to send for you. Would you do the honor of making your report, to the police chief?" The enforcer demon would say "I would be delighted, sister." (Tami and I would think "Oh, brother! HOW can good and evil, work together, so casually?") When the deputy would say "Come on, SPILL! What has become of the thieves, and murderers?" The enforcer demon would say "They are in the most capable hands, of my master. The Lord has dercreed a 3,000 year sentence, in Hell, for their actions." When Tami would look at Mother Superior, the nun would say "Quite correct. Most began serving their sentences 15 years ago. The others have joined, about 10 years ago." When Mother Sperior saw Tami's look, the nun reminded my partner "Remember that, like your worlds "super-powers", Our Lord has a direct line, to Lucifer. Just as a precaution." When Tami asked about the motor oil, transmission fluid, and the lead, on Thunder Road, Mother Superior would say "Yes, your motor vehicles do tend to leak, especially when undeer pressure." The enforcer demon would add "The lead paint you have been finding. That was my doing." When the police chief would ask "May I ask why?" The demon would say "It took you over 75 YEARS to bring justice. When your department failed bring the guilty to justice, after just five years, I received permission to begin leaving clues. Clues, which the police over-looked, in their zeal, to close the case." When Tami would ask "What about the phantom racers, at Thunder Road?" The enforcer would smile at my partner, saying "Nice touch, wasn't it? Broguht the two of you racing in, to do a job, the police gave up on, decades ago. Now the survivors can rest in peace, as will SOME the of deceased." Final case note: I find it HARD to believe that either Heaven, or Hell, would put on such a "show" just to bring us into an investigation. It would seem that, once the bodies, and the chop-shop, were located, proper funerals were held, and question marks were removed from headstones. The discoveries also meant that the enforcer demon could send the racers souls, back to their rest, as well. Even I could not believe how far the supernatural was willing to go, in order to bring closure, to the survivors. As Tami and I reported that we were available, for our next case, Mr. Brown would show us the $50,000 post, to our expense account. No names were listed, but Tami and I KNEW who sent each half, of the payment. Before signing off, Mr. Brown would ask "If you have time, I want you to check into a new case file. I need to know if the agency should devote any resources, to the case. I will expect your review, within 36 hours." With that the screen went black, and our pilot called "Lifting off". Yes, off to the next mystery...