The Phantom Gamblers of the Silver State

Previously

…Then, he heard it. Faint, almost imperceptible, a rhythmic whirring sound, like the distant turning of propellers. It was intermittent, fading in and out with the wind, but undeniably present. Elias strained to listen, his audio recorder already capturing the ambient sounds. Was it merely the wind playing tricks, or was it an echo from the past, a phantom engine coming to life? He walked towards the source of the sound, his heart beating a steady rhythm against his ribs, the familiar thrum of anticipation building within him. The ghosts of Wendover were beginning to stir, and Elias Thorne was ready to listen.