Supernatural Truck Route 666 Novels & Stories

She replied carelessly Stefan was clearly not expecting this, honestly neither was I “Is there any other transport that we can use to head airport, or private car that could drive us…we’ll pay extra if that require” I asked Candy “Don’t you know this while coming here?” Candy was curious “ That road to airport is considered as haunted” Candy said in pure Spooky voice “Your kidding me” I was watching her with bore eyes “There were 6 cab accident that happened on airport road after sunset in last year, there was no survivors which is why no cab driver drive to airport at late hours” Candy explained at same time Joshua walked back to reception holding dust pan filled with broken flower pot from

Meanwhile, The "Shadow-Hauler" thundered across the cracked remains of Interstate 70, a lone metallic beast cutting through the heart of the Great Plains. But the Kansas they were driving through was no longer the amber-waved landscape of the history books. Since the San Diego breach, the "Dead Zone" of the Midwest had become a literal graveyard of reality. Inside the hauler, the tension was a physical weight. Evangeline sat cross-legged before the Acoustic Prism, her throat still raw from the Cipher lessons, her mind a frayed wire.

“They’re waiting. No phones, no surprises.” I followed him through a maze of stacked crates and flickering fluorescents, the space echoing with the drip of unseen leaks. My mind churned: the trucking routes I’d built from nothing, now strangled by Zacian’s decrees. Last month’s haul from Phoenix? Diverted at the state line, ‘inspected’ until the cargo spoiled. Profits? A trickle, barely covering fuel for the rigs.

“They watch these murder shows on TV and they think of big ugly men with junk food guts and rusty knives stuck through their belts. They hear about maimed hookers and shallow graves. Most people like to believe the worst, especially if it’s about something they’ve never seen up close.” The truckers we’ve caught rides with have almost always had big laughs and outrageous stories. They tell us about their backroad breakdowns, their close shaves. The crazies and the lonelies and the loons who cross their paths. Stress and booze, and what booze does when folks are stressed. They know all about lunatics, and even more about angels. A few told us about their encounters with wild animals, late at n

He drove his truck out of Silverdale and down a long, winding dirt track that eventually led to some old, hauntedlooking industrial site. If it weren't for the mass of SUVs and armored camo army trucks that were parked at the far end of one lot, Jason might have thought the place was entirely abandoned. It looked as though the place hadn't seen any action for decades, and yet the scent of a werewolf that drifted through the open truck window told him that there were at least a few living beings in the area. Deciding that it was best not to get too close in his truck, he turned right around and headed back down the lane, stowing his truck some way

“I’ve looked into the truck driver. He died as well, but he had a son.” His account hadn’t had any transactions because of the accident, but two years after the incident, three million dollars suddenly appeared in the truck driver’s account. It was a large sum of money with no clear origin. Janet had spared no effort in tracking down the mysterious benefactor. He turned out to be a distant relative of Robert’s. Robert had always been a careful man who took every precaution.

It was nice to see that when he was Alpha, he had his pack's best interest at heart. "She's gone straight now, I've heard," Brett told us. "She came into some money and bought a semi truck. Now she does cross country trucking." Will, Sarah, and I went downstairs to ready the infirmary for a human. We had supplies, so we took a gurney upstairs to transport the girl on. It was equipped with oxygen and a defibrillator in case we needed it. We were prepared for whatever emergency was coming our way. Anthony contacted Joel when he saw a semi pass. Evidently Dia was driving a her truck to drop June off. We all wondered how much 'stuff' June had in the back of the semi.

But the undercurrent of their apprehension remained, a silent specter in the cab of the truck as they sped towards the unknown. Just as they crossed into their home state, a large shadow loomed in the road ahead. Jeremy hit the brakes, and the truck skidded to a halt just in time. They squinted through the windshield, their hearts pounding, as a massive elk stood defiantly in their path, its antlers gleaming under the moonlight. The creature stared back at them, its eyes shining with an almost human-like understanding before it slowly turned and disappeared into the darkness.

The engine purred. “Sounds good,” Morozko said, relaxing in the driver's seat. He popped open the glovebox and withdrew the perpetual supply of cash that was stashed there, tucking some into his pocket. The car thundered through the wooded suburbs, past strip malls and parks, and wound up on Interstate 66. The road was heavy with traffic, and the red Firebird stood out like a sore thumb.

Much to Callie’s relief, her friends followed her advice and stayed on the Blood Road. They didn’t run into more lost souls or demons as they continued on their journey. Their only concern were the ravens that followed them, circling above like an omen. Callie kept Lucifer’s Grace in hand lest one of the birds swooped down and tried to peck at them.