"Damn, where is everybody tonight?" Deputy reserve William Benjamin Hardigan was getting impatient. There were usually three or four cars, and a half a dozen old trucks out here by this time every Friday night. Kids boozing it up, having sex, in general being royal pains. He dragged on his cigarette long and hard. It was gonna be a long weekend.


And over in the dark of night, the blue lights played, dim for now, they watched, waited, and danced in excitement at the coming of the game ...


The cop contemplated leaving, but this thought was cut short as a big diesel pickup roared to a stop. The hot, dry dust billowed up, obliterating his view completely. When the dust settled, there were four young boys leaning on its hood, beers in hand, trying too fast to grow up.

"Ah-bout time ... stupid kids. Who'll it be this time?" He chuckled quietly, hoping for multiple arrests. He needed the kudos at the station, and the patrol car was hidden well too, just far enough back old man Jones lane, that no one would see the glint of metal. Perfect.

Music blared from the cab of the old Ford, an odd mix of rock and country that made Hardigan cringe. He wasn't old, but music now-a-days just wasn't right. He gritted his teeth, almost chomping at the bit; he couldn't wait for the rest of the gang to make their appearance. Quiet as a church mouse, he slipped out of his squad car. He wanted to listen to the conversation, it just might reveal where the kids were getting their booze and dope.

Suddenly, there were no sounds. No crickets, no cicadas, no voices. He peered around the brush and couldn't see any of the kids. Just the empty vehicles, their lights piercing the dark out through the near-by woods. The silence was louder than any raucous behavior or music.

Sure, he'd heard the stories about this area, but didn't believe one word of it. Unexpected tingling up his spine though, gave his resolve away. Something felt wrong. He stood stock still. Drawing his gun, he held his breath, waiting. The quiet was unnatural. Unnerving. And he couldn't move.


No sound was heard as he was taken. No scream. No struggling. Nothing. And the blue lights laughed.


"Yeah, we gotta watch for Hardigan. He could be here later, he knows people come here." The boy with the Purdue cap sucked on a joint, squinting his eyes as the smoke surrounded his face. He passed it to the next boy, who took a hit.

"Old, Will'e be hard again? I wonder if he's in town. I think he's on shift tonight." Soft laughter filtered through the group. The dark seemed to blanket the desire to be loud, and the boys began to talk quietly, almost reverently, about the legend of the ghost lights. There were disappearances in the area that could not be explained. And the boys were not supposed to be out here, but it was a temptation too great to resist. The beer and pot were forgotten, as the fog moved in and the night took hold of their mood.

"I bet the lights will be here tonight though. I seen 'em once. Jason Emery and me tried to catch 'em too, but they just disappeared when we got close. Then we'd see 'em again. Wish I knew what they are." This revelation coming from the youngest, Toby Brown. His eyes were bugged just remembering.

"I hear they'll make ya wreck, if ya ain't careful. I don't wanna see 'em. But my folks say they're just swamp gas anyhow." Barry was drinking Miller Light. He didn't like beer, but wanted the others to accept him into their midst. He burped extra loud, just like his daddy did when he drank. And for two hours the boys spoke of things unknown, things that were not to be believed. And long into the wee hours, Tommy Hall, Barry Richards, Langston Lewis and Toby Brown, all four, finally got to see the ghosts. They stood, dumbstruck and frozen with fear, as the blue lights of Rensselaer simply took them all away.


They say that people, even cars have just disappeared. And to this day, Deputy Hardigan and the four kids from town have never been found. Nor was the squad car. The Ford truck was spared though; it still sat, stereo system off, engine off, and to this day, the blue lights of Rensselaer can still be seen late at night, out along County Road 250 East. And they say if you try to chase them down, you could be spirited away ... or end up chasing your own shadow down a dark and lonely backroad.