Distant Thunder
In the shadows of the Oklahoma plains, a sheriff’s sleepless pursuit begins to unravel secrets buried in the dust—and not everyone is meant to survive the storm.
Welcome back to The Devil’s Road, where vengeance runs as thick as blood through the veins of Sequoyah County. In Issue #19, Sheriff Samantha Hart’s relentless pursuit brings her to a tense stakeout where secrets begin to surface.
If you missed yesterday’s post, you can catch up on Cracks in the Glass.
Now, settle in, my Faithful Ramblers, for Chapter 5, Issue 5 of The Devil’s Road.
In 2004 an Oklahoma Bureau of Investigations analyst discovered a crime pattern along the Interstate 40 corridor between Oklahoma and Mississippi. Subsequently, The Federal Bureau of Investigations (F.B.I.) started the Highway Serial Killings Initiative. They discovered over 500 bodies of women along the interstate highway system with more than 200 potential suspects, a trail of bloodshed that coats the heartland. The Devil’s Road is a serialized novel based on this horrific discovery.
After thirty hours on the clock, with only a light doze before the sun came up to count for rest, most folks would be looking for a place to lie down. Samantha Hart, on the other hand, hasn’t even touched the coffee sitting on the hood of her car. For over a year, it’s been nothing but more bodies, more photos of women found on the side of the road, and more files to put in that dusty box of forgotten souls. Now, she’s got a lead.
Last night, she found a receipt with the Old 64 Truck Stop logo. It’s three days old. Sam shouldn’t have let her… emotions, if that’s what she’s going to call them, take over. It led her, half-cocked like a rookie, straight into a mess. She’s been impulsive. She won’t let that become a problem again.
Sheriff Bandy Williamson leans against Sam’s cruiser, feeling in peak form with his mirrored sunglasses on and a jelly doughnut in hand. He takes a sip of his coffee to wash down the doughy goodness of his breakfast, licking the powdered sugar from his whiskers.
“Sweet Christ, Bandy, do you have to be the embodiment of a joke?” Sam asks without so much as a glance in his direction. Her gaze is locked across the horizon as she looks through her binoculars. The two are perched on an elevated hilltop overlooking the Old 64 Truck Stop—Sam’s regular first stop in the morning.
“What, I’m not supposed to eat doughnuts because I chose law enforcement as my primary occupation?” Bandy mumbles as he chews and swallows the last bite. He licks his fingers clean and picks up his binoculars as well. The two stare down at the scene.
Sam is focused on Heather’s trailer, which sits a little way behind the truck stop. The front door opens, and a woman stands in the threshold. It’s Madeline. She talks to someone inside, then slams the door.
“So, what are we looking for?” Bandy asks.
“Shut up,” Sam responds curtly.
Bandy tries to follow Sam’s line of sight and spots Madeline getting into her sky-blue hatchback. She’s carrying a small duffle bag, which she tosses into the back seat.
“Who’s that?” Bandy asks.
“For Christ’s sake, Bandy. I don’t know. Now will you shut the hell up?” Sam says, keeping her binoculars trained on the trailer’s front door.
Heather comes running out of the trailer. Madeline tries to get into her car before Heather can catch her, but she isn’t fast enough. Madeline tugs on the car door, trying to shut it, while Heather pulls from the outside. Their voices float across the highway as they scream at each other.
“Guess she forgot to pay,” Bandy says with a chuckle.
Sam elbows him in the ribs. “I told you, you could come along, but if you don’t shut your mouth and pay attention, I’m gonna ask you to leave.”
Madeline eventually wins the tug-of-war, slamming the door shut—but the window is down. Heather dives into the car. The vehicle rocks on its shocks as the struggle continues, but then it settles. Through the windshield, Sam and Bandy watch as Heather and Madeline embrace deeply, Heather crying in Madeline’s arms.
“Bandy, write down the license plate number of that car,” Sam orders.
“Want me to run a check?” Bandy asks as he runs back to his car, rummaging in the glove box until he finds a pad and pen.
“Yeah,” Sam says, keeping her gaze fixed on the couple across the highway.
Heather crawls out of the driver’s window and now leans against the door’s open window, talking to Madeline. Sam lowers her binoculars for a brief moment to jot down the time, a description of Madeline, and the duffle bag she carried.
Through the binoculars, Sam watches as Madeline pulls away, Heather waving as she leaves. Whatever they’d been arguing about seems to have settled, at least enough to dial down the temperature. Bandy returns to Sam with additional notes on his pad.
“The vehicle is registered to a Madeline Gaines. Driver’s license from Tulsa. No warrants, but she was reported missing at 17. Self-reported after her 18th birthday. No other details on that,” Bandy reports.
“Age?” Sam asks.
Bandy checks his notes. “Twenty-six.”
“Notice anything unique about her, Bandy?” Sam asks.
“You mean besides the missing person thing?” Bandy says, tapping his pen against the pad as he thinks about it.
“What do all our recent victims have in common?” Sam asks, hoping Bandy has been paying attention.
“Well… she’s got red hair,” Bandy says with an unsure shrug.
“That’s right. Good job. Now follow her,” Sam says, going back to her binoculars.
“The hatchback?” Bandy asks.
“She’s already on the highway. You better hurry,” Sam says without looking his way.
Bandy runs back to his car, tosses the pad and pen onto the seat, and drops the cruiser into reverse to pull out.
“No lights!” Sam shouts as Bandy’s cruiser heads down the hillside toward the highway, where Madeline’s car is picking up speed, heading east on Highway 64.
Across the highway, Heather digs into her pocket for a cigarette. She sits on the steps of her trailer, now hunting for a lighter. She thought she’d nearly lost Madeline. It would have been so easy for her to just take off and never come back.
Heather had made a promise. She promised to let Madeline keep the money—all of it. That way, she wouldn’t let the animal urge to feed her addiction take over again. She’d won the fight this morning, but even she isn’t sure she can be that strong every time. With a couple hundred thousand dollars at her disposal, she could be a complete disaster.
Heather lights her cigarette and looks up at the horizon to see Sheriff Samantha Hart standing on the ridgeline across the highway, watching her through binoculars.
“That fuckin’ bitch,” Heather mutters under her breath as she exhales her first pull from the Marlboro Red. She jumps up and tries to make both of her middle fingers as visible as possible from the distance.
A smile crosses Sam’s face as she watches Heather dance with her middle fingers high in the air. Whether Heather likes being watched or not doesn’t matter. Someone is out there hunting people like her, and more specifically, people like the one she seems to care about. Maybe there’s an angle here. Maybe Sam could get some help from the inside.
That old bastard who runs the Old 64 Truck Stop won’t be any help now that she’s pulled a gun on him. Not that he would have been much help before. But maybe this trailer park call girl could get her access to the video. If Heather knew what was hunting her, it’d be hard for her to refuse.
Heather has to stop and catch her breath after giving everything she had to that big “fuck you.” She picks up her cigarette from the ground and takes another long pull. That’s when she sees the other cruiser.
Bandy’s cruiser rolls slowly down the dirt road, turning in the same direction Madeline just left. Do they know about the drugs? Is this a bust?
“Shit,” Heather mutters as she thumps her cigarette into the wind and runs toward the payphone at the truck stop. She has to warn Madeline.
If this week’s issue got your blood pumping, refer a fellow traveler to join the ride and unlock some devilishly good rewards!
The Devil’s Deal:
REFER 2 FRIENDS: Unlock 1 month of The Devil’s Road for free—no strings attached.
REFER 5 FRIENDS: Claim 3 months free, plus a PDF copy of The Devil’s Road pilot screenplay. Step deeper into the darkness.
REFER 10 FRIENDS: Score 6 months free, along with a signed, mailed copy of The Devil’s Road pilot screenplay—your own piece of the story, right in your hands.With Halloween just around the corner, I couldn’t think of a better time to bring you, my Faithful Rambler, to the end of Part 1 of The Devil’s Road. Now six chapters in, I want to offer a refresher for any New Witnesses to the trail of bloodshed left behind by our enigmatic Driver. His identity remains a mystery—for now—but Part 2 may finally bring the truth to light.
