Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
Virginia authorities had recently assisted the Federal Revenuers from the U.S. Treasury Department in breaking up a moonshine still. They put another one of their local distillers out of business. Sheriff Dan Patch knew they had a large quantity of moonshine on hand but had no idea where they were storing it. He had a few spies out searching the area for clues. Everyone was very tight-lipped about anything to do with moonshine. After the last still had been destroyed by the Revenuers, several people went missing. Dan knew they would be running low on funds, they had to move some of their shine to keep up their cash flow. They were no doubt already planning on putting up another still at a different location.
It was around midnight when the sheriff’s phone rang, the person on the other end of the line had a tip. You are not going to believe this, they store moonshine right here in town, at a local gas station. There is a tank out back for keeping the moonshine. The word is out, about a couple new young fellows making a run tonight about 2 AM, full moon. It will be really bright, they’ll be planning on running all the way to Tennessee with no headlights on. Trouble is, we have no idea what road through the Appalachians they will use. I imagine it will be the main highway if they meet a car they can just turn lights on. Sheriff “thanks, you will be rewarded for your work.” He would be rewarded, “that is if he didn’t disappear somewhere out in the woods coon hunting.”
The sheriff and his deputy were waiting in the squad car, in town behind some bushes, well off the road. No one would see them, at about 1 AM they heard a car approaching on its way out of town. The moon was bright enough to see the car a mile down the road. They started following it, but to their surprise, it did not take the main highway.
Dan commented to his deputy, I don’t believe they will take the back road all the way to Tennessee. There are so many curves on that road, can’t imagine being desperate enough to take that route. I’ve heard they have a hundred gallon moonshine tank in the trunk. That old Hot Rod Lincoln will be awful hard to handle when we start the chase. This will be a fun night, ‘I do have a feeling commented his deputy.’
I do not expect them to just pull over and have a chat with us, they will have the pedal to the metal on that old Lincoln, they will have the ride of their lives. The sheriff started closing in on the Lincoln as it came to the first curve, the Lincoln took off like it was rocket propelled. It made the first curve fine and started pulling away. On the next two curves, a lot of gravel was flying off their tires. They got way out on the shoulder, there were no guard rails on this crooked mountain road. If you left the road, “You did some up close sightseeing in the canyon.”
The Hot Rod Lincoln kept picking up speed. Sheriff Dan felt they were going to get away, a couple greenhorns had beat him. Then the unexpected happened. With their low budget money, the moonshine boys cut back in the worst possible place, tires. They put recap tires on the back of that heavy old Lincoln, one of those recaps started coming apart, rubber was flying all over the place. Sheriff commented, ‘I do believe our boys are in big trouble now.’ There is no way they can make the curve at the bottom of this hill. They were doing about 90 miles an hour when the Lincoln left the road.
Well, deputy, we didn’t catch our moonshine runners but I do believe the boys made it all the way to Tennessee. Parts of them are scattered all over down there, somewhere at the bottom is a tank of moonshine, never heard it explode. We will have to go down that mountain and drain it out on the ground. I can’t trust anyone else to do it. There might be a few wily coyotes acting strange for a while. We better call for a wrecker and ambulance to pick up the body parts, what a mess for somebody to clean
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious way.