The Black Highway

                   The Black Highway                                                            By lil Texas                                                                                                              

    It was a hot,muggy, spring evening about 20 miles from Highway 6 on Highway 395. I had just pulled over on to the shoulder of the road to take a leak,a light in the side window of my Pete caught my eye. I stepped out to find a Sherriffs car pulled up on my right in the sandy ditch. Curiousity getting the better of me,I walk over to the car and look in....nobody there, so I start looking around .I call out"Hey Deputy " no answer. I wait a coupla minutes and call out again,still no answer.  Now I'm kinda spooked so I go back and get in my truck reach over and hit the air switch for my door locks .                                                                   

    Grabbing the mic I call over the radio for my buddies. "Break 19 how boutcha Handlebar Monkey you gotta copy?" He comes back to me , "Go ahead Lil Texas. " Responding, I asked him if he thought a county mounty in the ditch with nobody around would interest him. He laughed, asking if I was being pulled over again. "Naw," I said, " I was just stopping for a 10-100 and when I walked around the truck, the bear was there in the ditch ,lights on ,motor runnin, but no one around." H.M.asked "What"s your 20?"  I told him he would be coming up on me in about three miles on the right at the wide spot in the road. He said, "Stay in the truck."  He would be there in a sec.

    Handlebar Monkey and Highway Jockey pulled in behind me illuminating the area with their spot lights and headlights . I got out and went to meet up with them, my Kimber .45 tucked behind my belt. Handlebar grabbed his sawed-off Remington pump. Jockey came up with his Colt .45 APC. I suggested we go have another look around the car for clues as to why someone would leave a cop car unattended and running in the middle of nowhere.                                                     

      Easing back up around the car I reached in and pulled the keys, the thought of checking the trunk a priorty. Putting the key into the lock, I had the boys step back and cover me. I knelt down and turned the key, the lid popped up....nothing out of the ordinary, first aid bag, brief case, spare tire, the kinda stuff you'ld find in any cops trunk. At this point we started searching the ground for clues. At about 25 feet out and to the right of the car, Jockey found a spot where a scuffle had ensued. At this point, we had two choices, keep on searching ourselves or call in the cavalry for support.

      Grabbing up my cell, I dialed 911....No service. "H.M. you got service?"  I asked. "Nope,"  he replied "How 'bout you Jockey?" "No," was his reply, also . Dead zones, I thought, what a helpless feeling. "Glad it's not us in trouble,"  H.M.said. "I'll go on into town," I said. "You guys hold down the fort. But whatever you do, put up your artillery. Back soon as I can." With that, I headed for my truck, as mine was the fastest in the fleet and running empty the'old girl was even faster.                    

      Dumping the air on the brakes, I started thru the gear pattern 1,2,3,4 switched to the high side of the tranny 5,6,7,8.  Then jumped to the big hole and started winding her up. If my guess was right, I had about forty miles to any resemblance of a town. Watching my gauges, my tach was reading 2100 rpm, the speedo stuck right on 115. No I wasn't scared to run her this fast,this was what she was built for. The engine started picking up that certian pitch where you knew she was beginning to run good.

      Watching the highway flash by,counting the minutes,  I started noticing the highway markings seem to stop, no "zipper" in the middle, no "fog"line on either edge, even the road signs had stopped. Picking up the mic, I called out, "Break 19 for a radio check"..... no answer....."Break for a radio check".....no answer. Checking the radio controls, I made sure all switches were where they were supposed to be positioned, all lights and dials were functioning o.k. Obviously, its not my radio.

      I started checking my gauges, again, and I noticed something really weird. My odometer was running backwards....I was loosing ground, impossible. But there it was rolling backwards, mile after mile was coming off.  I'd have to get that checked when I got to the shop again. About then I started seeing the lights of town,reaching over I activated the jake brakes and heard that old famililar rumble as I geared down. Coming into town I switched the jakes off, I didn't want a noise ordinance charge against me for trying to help.                                                  

      Easing up to the square,looking around for the bear den, aka the cop shop, I noticed the road had turned to dirt, but I couldn't remember when. I spotted the station. It was a small,one story affair with iron bars on the windows and the sign above the porch proclaimed...SHERRIFFS OFFICE...on a single board hanging by chains. Understand at this point,"things" just aren't feeling right. I haven't seen a car since I got into town,what I saw was a bunch of hitchin rails,you know,the ones you see horses tied to.                                                  

      Everything just feels wrong. Grabbing the shifter, I ease out of town and hide my truck in an old barn about a mile from town and walk back. On the way back, I see a sign proclaiming the town as Goldfield NV pop.249.  Thats odd, I thought Goldfield was a much larger town. Walking by the general store, I happened to look in and saw merchandise from about the late 1800's,how strange to find that here and now, I thought. Continuing down the street, I got to the Sherriff's Office and knocked on the door. As it opened, who greeted me was a honest to goodness sherriff from about 1870, packing a western sidearm, tin star, cowboy hat and all the trimmings.          

      He asked me why I was dressed so strange, I told him I wasn't from here but was lookin for a place to sleep. He said if I wasn't picky the old hostler down the street might let me sleep in the livery. I thanked him kindly and set out for the stable, I had to see this for myself. At this point, I hadn't seen a single electric pole,no phone wires,nothing to show present day. As I got to the stable, the hostler was coming out and I asked if it was alright if I spent the night?  He told me to sleep in the loft, the hay was softer up there. As he turned away, I asked if he knew the date and he said March 5th,1873....................