The thing you have to understand about the disappearance of Mitchell Locke is that he disappeared on camera. You could follow his journey and everything. A camera catches him entering the tunnel at 2:03am from the north, a car in front of him, another behind. And for a few camera changes, this continues: the first car passes, and then Locke, and then the third car. That is, until you get to camera 27, about 500 feet away from the south portal of the tunnel. The first car is gone. Locke pulls into frame, the third car nowhere behind him. He stops in the tunnel, puts his hazards on, and gets out of his car. No one else passes into the tunnel.
At this point it’s clear Locke is looking at something. He leaves the side of his car, and the first jump in the tape happens. It’s just a quick burst of static, and Locke is across the tunnel, looking at what was later determined to be an emergency exit. There’s another burst of static, and Locke is gone. All that’s left in the tunnel is his car, it’s hazards flashing. By the time a tow truck could get to it, the battery had run down, the gas tank was empty, and the air had escaped from its tires. A fine film of dust covered the car.
The other two drivers were identified. Both of them could point themselves out on the tunnel footage, and the rear-most driver recognized the front driver’s car. But neither saw Locke. Neither saw him stop in the tunnel. All that could be sure of Locke was that he entered the Washington State Highway 99 tunnel at 2:03am and by 2:11am Locke had ceased to exist in the world.