Midnight Rider on a Graveyard Run

I'm a moto-journalist writing a story about the eight million Americans who work the graveyard shift. I was intrigued by these night shifters and graveyard tanker yankers. Where do midnight riders eat and sleep while traversing the dark tarmac at witching hour. This story is about Truckers, men and women delivering precious cargo. And of course there are the outlaws, hijackers, thieves, prostitutes and last call for alcohol desperados drunk driving one eyed blind. Finally, the legions...
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I'm a moto-journalist writing a story about the eight million Americans who work the graveyard shift. I was intrigued by these night shifters and graveyard tanker yankers. Where do midnight riders eat and sleep while traversing the dark tarmac at witching hour. This story is about Truckers, men and women delivering precious cargo. And of course there are the outlaws, hijackers, thieves, prostitutes and last call for alcohol desperados drunk driving one eyed blind. Finally, the legions of highway patrol protecting innocent travelers. I was on a mission to write their story but the longer I rode the deeper and darker the story became and what I found horrified me. 30,000 motor vehicle deaths are reported yearly and what is this bloody trail of buried bones of brutally murdered women called the Corridor of Death? Who is abducting 2000 people a day, half a million people in the U.S yearly and what are the motives? These questions, and many more, I never knew existed now haunt my dreams.