The Ghost of Dome Rock Road

The Sheriff's Chase End in Tragedy

The heat radiated from the sunbaked blacktop as smoke from the smoldering wreckage that was once a Dodge Caravan wafted lazily for dozens of yards in every direction. Arizona summers are always hot, and this section of the Copper State accounts for some of the highest recorded temperatures in the United States.

There was absolutely no breeze today, and smoke and small particles seemed to just hang in the air. So did the awful smell. The scent was nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, or something like leather being tanned over a flame. Fred stood straddling the white lane markers of eastbound Interstate 10 with a look of disbelief.

He had seen plenty of car wrecks in his 32 years as Sheriff of La Paz County, but nothing came close to equaling the carnage that had unfolded in front of him. At first, he just wanted to focus on directing looky-loos away from the crash site, which included a massive fireball that had once been the Dodge minivan. Firefighters had just arrived and began getting the fire under control.

"Sheriff Koontz!" his radio crackled. "Highway Patrol is on the line. They're asking how many ADOT resources do you think you're gonna need to handle the situation." said the dispatcher. "I don't know yet. I have two deputies who were on the pursuit with me blocking the eastbound lanes of I-10 and the State Trooper who was first on the scene directing the first responders. I can see the traffic is starting to back up on the eastbound lanes for miles. Bring everything they've got! We're going to be here for some time. We need to figure out how to reroute traffic around this mess – sooner rather than later," the sheriff said as his voice began to crack from inhaling the putrid smoke.

Then a thought whizzed through Fred's mind, which sent him into a spiral of second-guessing as he looked at the mangled wreckage of what was once a young man's monster truck. How could this have happened? he thought. Why didn't the Jankins kid just pull over when he saw the police cruiser pulling up behind him? Fred and the driver of the truck had a rocky relationship that went back several years.

Why did he chase the truck all the way to Quartzsite when the only thing the driver had done was violate a restraining order? Suppose they hadn't blocked the road under the Dome Rock Road underpass. Then Barry Jankins might not have panicked and veered onto the off-ramp and started traveling in the wrong direction up the I-10 at well over 90 miles an hour! Didn't he see the big WRONG WAY signposting?

Then, his thoughts were interrupted by a distraught-looking EMT, "Sherriff, we need to call up additional resources from Parker. We're gonna need a place to land medevac choppers. Oh, and we're going to need the coroner's office to respond too."

Barry found himself floating in thin air. He usually liked dreams where he was flying, but this was different. He wasn't flying per se, just floating lazily above a chaotic scene on the ground. It was like he was looking down through a portal in some clouds. He couldn't make out many details, but he noticed a blazing fire and a smashed-up truck that seemed eerily familiar. He wanted to get himself closer to the ground to get a better look but couldn't quite figure out how he would do that.

Like a weightless space traveler, he decided to turn himself upside down like one would take when plunging off a high-dive board into a swimming pool. This began to work, and he started falling, slow at first, then speeding up rapidly until he feared he might crash into the ground before he could slow himself. As he got closer, things began to come into focus. The burning fire was consuming a big semi-truck and a minivan. Then he noticed the smashed-up truck again. It was his truck!

Then Barry noticed something that jolted him. He saw himself lying on the ground, except he was in two pieces. His body was lying there in a disfiguring jumble, and a dozen feet or so to one side was his severed head... Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh my God! he thought. Just then, a grayish black, billowing cloud, one that looked like it came from the inside of a volcanic eruption, rushed up from the ground and engulfed him.

"God no help you! You mine now, man!" said a loud thundering voice. The voice was so loud, Barry thought his eardrums might pop. Stark terror gripped him as he tried to wake himself from what he thought was a terrible dream. He closed his eyes and screamed as loud as he could.

As he opened his eyes, the smoke and evil voice were gone. At first, he wasn't sure where he was. Then the sudden blare of chatter over a police radio startled him, and he realized he was sitting in the back of a police cruiser.