Phantoms
There was only darkened streets and lonely highways, never a different view nor a changing scene. The black truck moved like a shadow, melting into the most hidden crevices of the street. It seemed elusive to light, almost shying away from the brightness, only allowing a partial view of itself and then slinking back into the blackness. The truck was alone on the deserted streets, its movements deliberate and calculated. The low rumbling of the massive engine shattered the silence as the vehicle slid almost gracefully along the asphalt. The truck entered an empty alleyway, the sounds of the engine echoing off the steep walls towering above. Slowly the vehicle stopped, engine idling smoothly while it waited. A few moments later, a small crack appeared in the wall directly in front of the truck's nose. The crevice widened slowly and silently until there was finally enough room for the vehicle to come through. Easily, the truck's transmission shifted into gear and gently accelerated through the opening. Moments later, the opening was sealed.
Several cities have their secrets, this one being no exception. A mile below the surface, below tons of metal and rock, a cavern lies. The immense bay sits concealed in blackness with only the occasional soft glow from phosphorescent computer screens to illuminate the area. A constant humming of processors ring throughout the complex as dozens of systems work. Surveillance cameras run silently in their cubbies, each bolted high in the corners of the room. Each camera sits focused on one location. The center of the complex contains a single computer tower, an advanced system known as a Crane Super Computer. It sits alone, constantly reorganizing data, dumping waste files, and controlling the tasks of the other separate systems. The Crane's systems alert the processor when the truck is waiting outside and automatically, the systems open the door. Motion sensors pick up the movements of the vehicle as it cleared the doors and tracks the truck through the corridors.
The vehicle approached the Crane, parking directly next to the mighty computer. As the truck's engine shutdown, the computer raises the frequency of the lights, bringing in more brightness than the LCD screens alone could. Moments later, a small door opens in the near wall. A woman clad in a long white lab coat comes through and walks towards the giant vehicle. "Open up bud." She states, stopping right in front of the vehicle. No verbal reply came from the machine as the hood silently released the catch and gently rose. The woman reached in with a scanner tool, glancing at the Crane on occasion to see the results of the scans. Once she was satisfied with the readouts, she removed the tool and closed the massive black hood. "Once again, you're perfect." She said, "How was the night?" A moment passed before the reply was voiced. "Slow…as always." said the voice. The male voice was slightly metallic and seemed to come directly from the truck's snout. "Go figure…well, start the recharge mode. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I think it is about time we set some of those rumors straight." Said the female as she headed back out of the garage. The truck once again chose not to reply as the lights dimmed and systems went into sleep mode.
The truck had passed several of residencies along the nightly route, sometimes pausing on the outskirts of various places. Occasionally, someone would catch a fleeting glance of the vehicle as it entered a small patch of light, only to lose it a moment later into the shadows. Curiosities rose and tales were created as each sighting added newer chapters to an already growing legend.
Stories blossomed from every household as children relished in the tales of the phantom vehicle. To many it was a mystery, a ghost of legend. But to others, to people with open minds, it was far more real. Common myths arose, some being passed off as completely ludicrous while others were raised as facts. Each tale told of a driver-less truck, black as midnight, with a rage as loud as thunder, a creature from another time and place, and to some, an angel sent from above. The truck had earned several names such as the 'Ghost Watcher', the 'Night Phantom', and the 'Dark Specter'. The true name is not known to any, with the exception of one person and even that one human will not reveal the secret. To her, the truck is a hero and a protector, one who can bring hope to those without. Heroes reside in all places, whether they watch and protect from the shadows, save people from life threatening situations in the light, or guide and teach people of all ages. They come in all shapes and sizes, from the smallest child to the largest truck. If anyone, or anything, can bring hope, they too are heroes.
There was only darkened streets and lonely highways, never a different view nor a changing scene. The black truck moved like a shadow, melting into the most hidden crevices of the street. It seemed elusive to light, almost shying away from the brightness, only allowing a partial view of itself and then slinking back into the blackness. The truck was alone on the deserted streets, its movements deliberate and calculated. The low rumbling of the massive engine shattered the silence as the vehicle slid almost gracefully along the asphalt. The truck entered an empty alleyway, the sounds of the engine echoing off the steep walls towering above. Slowly the vehicle stopped, engine idling smoothly while it waited. A few moments later, a small crack appeared in the wall directly in front of the truck's nose. The crevice widened slowly and silently until there was finally enough room for the vehicle to come through. Easily, the truck's transmission shifted into gear and gently accelerated through the opening. Moments later, the opening was sealed.
Several cities have their secrets, this one being no exception. A mile below the surface, below tons of metal and rock, a cavern lies. The immense bay sits concealed in blackness with only the occasional soft glow from phosphorescent computer screens to illuminate the area. A constant humming of processors ring throughout the complex as dozens of systems work. Surveillance cameras run silently in their cubbies, each bolted high in the corners of the room. Each camera sits focused on one location. The center of the complex contains a single computer tower, an advanced system known as a Crane Super Computer. It sits alone, constantly reorganizing data, dumping waste files, and controlling the tasks of the other separate systems. The Crane's systems alert the processor when the truck is waiting outside and automatically, the systems open the door. Motion sensors pick up the movements of the vehicle as it cleared the doors and tracks the truck through the corridors.
The vehicle approached the Crane, parking directly next to the mighty computer. As the truck's engine shutdown, the computer raises the frequency of the lights, bringing in more brightness than the LCD screens alone could. Moments later, a small door opens in the near wall. A woman clad in a long white lab coat comes through and walks towards the giant vehicle. "Open up bud." She states, stopping right in front of the vehicle. No verbal reply came from the machine as the hood silently released the catch and gently rose. The woman reached in with a scanner tool, glancing at the Crane on occasion to see the results of the scans. Once she was satisfied with the readouts, she removed the tool and closed the massive black hood. "Once again, you're perfect." She said, "How was the night?" A moment passed before the reply was voiced. "Slow…as always." said the voice. The male voice was slightly metallic and seemed to come directly from the truck's snout. "Go figure…well, start the recharge mode. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I think it is about time we set some of those rumors straight." Said the female as she headed back out of the garage. The truck once again chose not to reply as the lights dimmed and systems went into sleep mode.
The truck had passed several of residencies along the nightly route, sometimes pausing on the outskirts of various places. Occasionally, someone would catch a fleeting glance of the vehicle as it entered a small patch of light, only to lose it a moment later into the shadows. Curiosities rose and tales were created as each sighting added newer chapters to an already growing legend.
Stories blossomed from every household as children relished in the tales of the phantom vehicle. To many it was a mystery, a ghost of legend. But to others, to people with open minds, it was far more real. Common myths arose, some being passed off as completely ludicrous while others were raised as facts. Each tale told of a driver-less truck, black as midnight, with a rage as loud as thunder, a creature from another time and place, and to some, an angel sent from above. The truck had earned several names such as the 'Ghost Watcher', the 'Night Phantom', and the 'Dark Specter'. The true name is not known to any, with the exception of one person and even that one human will not reveal the secret. To her, the truck is a hero and a protector, one who can bring hope to those without. Heroes reside in all places, whether they watch and protect from the shadows, save people from life threatening situations in the light, or guide and teach people of all ages. They come in all shapes and sizes, from the smallest child to the largest truck. If anyone, or anything, can bring hope, they too are heroes.
