Crimson Highway by David Wickenhauser (i can read with my eyes shut txt) 📕

truck, put it into gear and pulled back onto the highway, thinking this day definitely was not the good day that it had started out to be early this morning.

Chapter Four

With the miles passing behind them, Hugh occasionally checked the “temperature” in the cab by glancing over at his mercurial rider.

Seeing that she seemed to have calmed down somewhat, he chanced a question.

“OK, missy, how about telling me how you managed to get into my locked truck.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I don't like your name-calling, and it might be the reason why I have an ‘ugly, nasty attitude’ toward you? My name is Jenny, not missy, not little lady. Got it?”

Touché.

“All right, Jenny. You’ve got a point. Let’s make a deal. I’ll stop with the name calling, and you’ll improve your attitude. There’s no reason why we have to be enemies.”

Jenny thought about it, then nodded her agreement.

“Let’s start over. Jenny, I would appreciate it if you would tell me how you got into my truck. I know I locked it before we went into the truck plaza.”

“When you were using your jug I saw your spare key in the bottom of your cup-holder tray. I took it. I thought it would come in handy. And it did,” Jenny answered, with a smirk on her face..

Devious bi … Hugh thought, and then stopped himself, remembering his deal with her. Can’t say it, so don’t even think it.

“OK. That explains that. Now, why did you skip the shower and run back to the truck in the first place?”

“Well, I knew you were planning on leaving me behind. I've got to be on this truck. Is that a good enough answer for you?”

“I guess. How about handing over my key.”

She fished around in her pockets, found the key and handed it to him.

Just then, an older model Buick, blue in color, with California plates, passed them at a high speed. Hugh took notice of it, because inside were four guys. Three of the guys, the passengers, were watching his truck intently as they passed.

The Buick quickly moved on way ahead of them, and passed out of sight.

“Did you get a chance to use the bathroom, or do I need to stop somewhere?” Hugh asked.

“No. I’m fine,” Jenny answered, still miffed at Hugh.

“Are you hungry?”

“Actually, I haven’t eaten all day.”

“Here. Take these chips to tide you over until we stop for the night. Then I’ll make us some dinner,” Hugh offered, showing her where he had put the bag of chips and the soda.

Jenny’s phone rang again. She fished it out from somewhere within her layered mess of clothes and flipped it open to answer it.

“OK,” was all she said after listening for a minute. Then she hung up.

That’s something else Hugh was curious about, but he didn’t feel like getting into a battle with her about that just yet.

Continuing on the drive northward toward Burley, the miles passed under the truck’s wheels. Even though there were still a lot of unanswered questions, Hugh was comfortable with the truce that he and Jenny had agreed to. It made for a much more pleasant ride.

While Hugh was still pondering that thought he saw a vehicle up ahead pulled over onto the shoulder of the road. It looked like someone was struggling to change a tire. The trunk lid was open, and tire-changing tools were strewn around in the dirt and weeds of the shoulder.

“Hmmm” Jenny said, leaning forward and peering through the windshield at the car, “I wonder if we should stop to help them.”

Curious about Jenny’s previously undisplayed and uncharacteristic compassion for her fellow humans, Hugh nevertheless did see her point. A person could get stuck for a long time way out here in the middle of nowhere, especially someone who was struggling to change a tire by himself.

He slowed down in order to pull onto the shoulder behind the disabled vehicle.

As he got closer, however, he noticed that it was the same blue Buick that he had spotted earlier passing them at a high speed. Hugh recognized it because truckers spend countless hours in their trucks with nothing to do but observe what goes on around them. It becomes second-nature to categorize and recognize cars and other trucks that they see.

And this was definitely the same one. The only difference is that there was only one guy, and not the four that he had seen earlier.

Red flags shot up alerting his brain, and he immediately pulled back onto the road, shifting and accelerating as fast as the Cummins diesel and heavy load would let him.

“No, no, you’ve got to stop!” Jenny yelled when she saw that Hugh was not going to stop. “Pull over. Help him!”

Hugh glanced over at his rider. The girl was definitely agitated—panicked, even. Where is that coming from? Hugh wondered.

Jenny leaned forward in her seat, placing her face as close to the passenger window as she could. She craned her neck to look back at the marooned vehicle. Resigned to the fact that Hugh was not going to stop, she sat back down in her seat.

“What was that all about?” Hugh asked.

“Nothing. Don’t you ever feel like you should stop to help someone?”

“Actually, yes. And that’s how I got stuck with you. I just didn’t like the looks of that situation. Suspicious,” he said.

Unknown to Hugh, at that very moment as their truck passed out of sight down the highway, three men came out from their hiding places among the rocks and trees next to the shoulder where the Buick was stopped. It didn't take long for them to mount the tire, which wasn't flat, back onto the car.

Hugh’s mind turned toward calculating the timing of the rest of his trip. They were still