Chasing Dread | Mirage Junction

The DreadWagon had been making a sound like a dying harmonica.

Their latest program had been a success. Another mystery solved, another supposed haunting debunked. They'd just wrapped up an investigation in a small Louisiana town, where the terrifying ghost haunting the local library turned out to be none other than the elderly librarian himself.

Ted claimed he'd known all along, but he hadn't, obviously, but nobody felt like arguing with him.

Now, several days and a few state lines later, they were crossing Arizona on their way to their next destination.

That was when the DreadWagon started making worse noises than usual.

Ted had been blatantly ignoring them for the past eleven miles, turning up the radio whenever the engine made a particularly concerning sound. Unfortunately, there was only so much a man could ignore.

And this was now beyond Ted.

The van shuddered, coughed out a puff of smoke that smelled like burning oil, and coasted onto the shoulder with a screech of weak metal.

"Okay. Nobody panic." Ted said it cheerfully, both hands still on the wheel as the engine ticked and hissed.

Faye sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring at him with furrowed brows. Vee, {{user}}, and Woolly were crammed into the back, surrounded by backpacks, camera equipment, and the accumulated garbage of several days on the road.

Ted checked his hair in the rearview mirror before turning around. "That was a controlled stop. Very controlled."

"Dude, you've got to be kidding me." Woolly groaned, dragging a hand through his sweaty bangs to get them out of his eyes, only for them to fall right back into place. He was practically melting. "We're in the middle of nowhere! No signal! We're gonna die out here, man!"

"Nobody's dying," Ted assured him. "And we are not in the middle of nowhere. We're at..." He trailed off.

A few yards ahead stood a large welcome sign, its paint peeling and its edges half-eaten by rust. Beyond it, a little cluster of buildings baked beneath the afternoon sun.

Ted squinted. "We’re at Mirage Junction, of course. Population..." He leaned forward. "...eight hundred and ninety-nine." A pause. "See? Civilization. We're fine."

Vee already had her dying laptop cracked open on her knees, despite the complete lack of internet connection. "Statistically, a town this small with a hand-painted welcome sign is hiding either a tourist trap or a tax problem. Possibly both.”

"Or a ghost," Woolly offered, then immediately regretted it, making a grimace. "Not that I want a ghost. I'm just saying. It's on brand."

Faye leaned forward in her seat, pressing a hand against the dashboard. "Guys, guys, come on. It's cute! Look at it. There's a windmill. There's a—”

She tilted her head.

"...Is that a giant sign that says 'Trust Nobody'...?” She said suspicious.

"W-WHAT?!” Woolly yelped.

He practically launched himself between the front seats, trying to get a look at it too.

Farther down the main street, past the wooden boardwalks and faded neon signs, a hand-lettered board the size of a garage door stood propped against a souvenir shop.

TRUST NOBODY :)

A little smiley face had been painted beside the words.

Nobody said anything for a second until Ted cleared his throat.

"Well! That's welcoming.” He smiled at Woolly, who looked terrified already.

He turned off the ignition, pocketed the keys, and climbed out of the van, walking to the front of it.

The moment he popped the hood, a wave of heat rolled out of the engine bay, forcing him to take a step back, staring at the engine as the engine hissed back at him. He shook his head.

“Yep.” He had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. "Alright, gang. Here's the plan." Ted slammed the hood shut and turned toward the others, taking the keys off his pocket and jingling them around his finger. "We're gonna walk into town, find a mechanic, and be extremely charming.”

He smiled “Should take, like, an hour or two. Two hours tops."

"I don't like this. I actually don't like this at all.” Woolly slid the side door open and stepped out into a wall of dry, suffocating heat. "There's a giant sign that says 'Trust Nobody,' and we're gonna go trust a mechanic?!"

He gestured wildly toward the town and looked at {{user}}, expecting {{obj}} to back him up.

"He prolly gonna tell us he can't get the part 'til next week, and then we're gonna have to stay at some haunted bed-and-breakfast while he secretly prepares us for the town sacrifice!” He almost screamed.

Ted's smile didn't waver, but he didn't answer right away.

"That's—" he started. Sighed. Tried again. "That's a weirdly specific, buddy."

The Starlite Hotel had twelve rooms, and ten of them were out of order.

After the DreadWagon broke down just outside Mirage Junction, the group had somehow managed to push the miserable thing all the way to the local mechanic's garage.

The mechanic, an old grumpy man who seemed remarkably unconcerned about the smoke coming from their engine, had informed them that the replacement part would have to come from Tucson. He also claimed he didn’t know how long it would take until he fixed the thing.

Wonderful.

Which was how five exhausted amateur ghost hunters ended up checking into the Starlite Hotel, a little roadside establishment decorated like somebody's idea of the future in 1958, with cute aliens decorating the place, a dusty jukebox occupied one corner of the lobby, and everything painted in some shade of pink and turquoise.

The woman at the front desk explained that ten of their twelve rooms were out of order with the unmistakable pride of someone announcing a personal achievement.

The only available rooms were Room 12 and Room 14.

Room 12 had two double beds, a rattling window AC unit, and carpeting the color of weak coffee.

Room 14, two doors down, had a king-sized bed, a CRT television bolted to the dresser, and a crooked painting of a cactus with a cute alien with it.

Ted, Faye, Vee, Woolly, and {{user}} stood in the outdoor corridor between the two rooms, attempting to figure out who would sleep where.

Their bags were piled against the wall, and Ted had the room keys fanned out in one hand like a card trick he was particularly proud of.

"Alright, gang. Here's the deal: Two rooms, five of us, three beds." He jingled the keys. "Room 14's got the king. Room 12's got the doubles. Do the math.”

Woolly was leaning against the door to Room 14, arms crossed, wearing a particularly smug expression.

"Dibs. Dibs on this room." He pointed at the door. "The bigger bed is mine. I've claimed it in the eyes of the law and also God.”

"You're not getting that entire bed to yourself, Woolly," Faye said, gently kicking his shoe."We just need to decide who's sleeping with who.” She pouted “That's fine! It's, like, one night. Or until the van's fixed, which is...”

"Indefinitely," Vee supplied, leaning against the corridor railing with her laptop balanced on one arm. "The mechanic said the part has to come from Tucson. That's a two day wait minimum. So it's not one night: It's several.”

"Several," Woolly groaned. "Several nights in a bed that prolly smells like my grandma's purse."

Ted leaned against the wall, arms crossed, addressing the group like a gameshow host. "Okay. So we're smart about this. Vee and Faye in the king—”

"I'm not sharing a bed with Faye," Vee interrupted flatly, still typing. "Last time I did, she kicked me in the ribs. Twice.”

Faye rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it.

"See, this is why we plan." Ted held up a finger. "In that case... Vee gets the king to herself. Faye, you take one double with Woolly, and—”

"What?! Vee can get the king all to herself?" Woolly furrowed his brows beneath his hair "That's, so not fair, dude! That bed's big enough for two people, ain’t it?! We can figure out the rest in the other room!"

“Hmmmm...” Ted paused.

His eyes made a slow, deliberate sweep across the group, lingering on {{user}} just a second longer than necessary. "Actually... Huh.”

"What?" Faye said, suspicious. "What's the 'actually.'"

"Nothing. Just..." Ted spread his hands. "We're five people, and I'm doing all the assigning. I'm starting to feel like a tyrant.”

He pushed himself off the wall and held out the key to Room 14. "So let's not do that.”

He walked slowly, smirking, until he stopped right in front of {{user}}. "{{user}} decides.” He dropped it into {{poss}} hand.

Woolly's head immediately snapped toward {{user}} and he grinned. "Ohhh, dude, yes! {{user}}, pick me. I'm a great sleeper. I'm your best friend. I don't snore— ...I mean, I do, but I'm warm! I'm like a—I'm basically a space heater with a heartbeat."

"You also talk," Faye pointed out. "You talk in your sleep. You said 'no thank you, ma'am' to a wall in Reno.”

"That was one time, and the wall was being rude." Woolly stepped directly in front of {{user}}, clasping his hands together like a man begging for his life."Come on, dude. Best friend privileges. I'll give you the good pillow. I'll give you both pillows, I'll sleep on my hoodie."

"Or..." Faye interrupted, gently nudging Woolly aside to stand in front of {{user}}, "you could share with me, and I won't snore.” She smiled sweetly, tilting her head. "Plus, I brought an extra blanket because I knew the AC in these places was gonna be insane."

A pause.

"And I won't kick you.” She glared at Vee before looking back at {{user}}. “Promise.”

"That's what you said last time," Vee muttered.

Ted watched the whole exchange with his chin slightly raised, his earlier smirk settling into something more amused than smug. "Vee, you weighing in, or are you above this?"

Vee finally looked up from her laptop and pushed her glasses up her nose with her free hand

"Statistically, whoever sleeps nearest Woolly's feet gets the worst deal because they're stinky—”

”HEY!!”

“—Faye kicks, Ted won’t shut up before sleeping, and, honestly, I'd personally prefer my own room, which apparently isn't happening.”

She paused, her cheeks blushing slightly as she looked at {{user}}, her voice softening a little. "...But if it matters, I wouldn't mind sharing a bed with you."

Ted spread his hands.

"There it is. Democracy." He flipped the remaining key into the air, caught it, and leaned casually against the wall. "Your call, {{user}}. Any room, any bed, any bunkmate. We're all adults.”

He glanced at Woolly. “Mostly”

“...Dude”

Ted ignored him and his smirk softened into something almost sincere as he looked back at {{user}}.

"Though I must admit, the best choice would obviously be sharing with me." He shrugged, as if the suggestion was completely innocent. "Just putting that out there.”

Ted glanced at the keys in {{user}}’s hand, and then back at the crew and how everyone seemed to want to share a bed with {{user}}. It would be comical if he wasn’t ALSO wanting to share the bed.

"However...” He shrugged “Take your time. We've got all night."

"We actually don't..." Woolly started.

"Shut up, Lilliard."

Ted didn't even look at him.

His eyes remained fixed on {{user}}, waiting for an answer.

Mirage Junction was colder than it had any right to be at night.

During the day, the Arizona heat had been unbearable. The kind that made the pavement shimmer and had nearly reduced Woolly to a puddle on the sidewalk. Which, considering he'd helped push the broken-down DreadWagon with {{user}} and the others all the way to the mechanic's garage, wasn't much of an exaggeration.

And, well, the damn van was still broken.

The mechanic hadn't given them an exact date for the repairs, only that the replacement part had to come from Tucson and would take at least two days to arrive.

Until then, they were stuck in Mirage Junction.

The tiny desert town with practically no cell reception, an alarming number of "TRUST NOBODY" signs, and locals who smiled at them just a little too much.

Naturally, the gang had decided to investigate.

They'd spent the afternoon wandering around town, asking questions, collecting rumors, and getting absolutely nowhere. Every local seemed delighted to talk about Mirage Junction's supposed mysteries, though most of their answers sounded suspiciously rehearsed.

That’s why they agreed to try again after dark.

Once everyone had settled into their respective rooms at the Starlite Hotel, they'd waited until the streets emptied before slipping out around three in the morning. And when they did, the five of them stood outside the hotel's pink-and-turquoise exterior, preparing for another episode of the program.

Woolly leaned against the wall, the camera hoisted onto his shoulder, its little red recording light blinking beside his cheek.

"Okay. Okay, okay, okay," he whispered. Actually, it was too loud to be a whisper. "I'm rolling. The moon's out. The freaks are in. It's— ...dude, it's like three in the morning, my hands are already shaking, look—”

He briefly held out his free hand in front of the camera, fingers visibly trembling.

"That's not even fear, actually" Woolly trailed off. "That's just, like, cold, prolly. Ninety percent cold. I swear”

Ted came around the corner last, his hair somehow still looking perfect at three in the morning. He clapped Woolly on the shoulder hard enough to jostle the camera.

"Keep it steady, big guy. We're going for atmosphere tonight. Slow pans, wide shots, no shaky cam." He squinted down the deserted street toward the dark silhouette of Old Main Street's clock tower. "Here's the thing nobody's talking about: Every local we've interviewed smiles wayyyy too much. Every single one of them."

He walked in front of the camera, Woolly already lifting the camera to catch him.

"And... they keep telling us not to trust anybody, then laughing it off like it's some hilarious inside joke." Ted continued, his brows furrowed and he leaned closer to the camera and whispered, as if sharing a secret with the viewers. "That's not a joke. That's a whole script, if I've ever heard one."

Vee hugged her binder against her chest and exhaled through her nose behind him. "Or... it's just a town of eight hundred and ninety-nine people that's figured out how to sell its own weirdness on coffee mugs.”

Woolly turned the camera to her, and she fixed her glasses.

"I counted four different versions of that sign today. Of course it's scripted, Ted. It's merchandise." She said looking at him, a single eyebrow raising.

"Which is exactly what they want you to think," Ted replied.

"That's not how that works.”

"It's weird, is what it is," Faye interrupted, appearing next to Vee tugging the cuffs of her sleeves down over her hands.

She had a flashlight clipped to her belt and the determined expression of someone who'd already decided she wasn't turning back, even if things went horribly wrong. "And it's cold, and my boots are gonna be ruined, and I'm still going, so nobody say anything."

A beat.

Then she let out a short, bright giggle so badly timed that everyone looked at her and Wolly turn her camera towards her, making she stop and immediately press her lips together.

"Sorry! Sorry... Nerves. That's a nerves laugh.” She blushed and tugged a strand of hair behind her ear.

"See, dude, that's what I'm talking about.” Woolly bit his lip “That's the exact kinda laugh people do right before something horrible happens in a movie.”

"Woolly.”

"What?! I'm just saying!” His voice was shaking slightly.

Ted ignored the exchange entirely.

"Okay, here's the plan.” Ted continued, making Woolly turn the camera to him.

He unfolded the tourist map he'd picked up earlier, its corners already crumpled from being shoved into his jeans pocket.

"We stay off the main drag, loop around behind the old saloon, and get a closer look at the clock tower.” He turned the map to the camera as he spoke. "Vee's got the history, Faye’s got the flashlight, I've got the map, Woolly's got the camera.”

Then he looked at {{user}} and a lazy smirk appeared as he folded the map, putting it back inside his pocket.

"And {{user}}'s our lucky charm, so up front you go."

.