Troublesome Trucks Face Novels & Stories

Sand and dirt kicked up in plumes around the chasing vehicles, making it difficult to see. One of the trucks, its driver distracted by the gunfire or blinded by the sand, hit a large, half-buried rock. It veered sharply, its front tire exploding. The truck flipped, rolling several times in a cloud of dust and debris before coming to a crashing halt. The other two trucks slowed their pursuit, but they continued to fire. A bullet tore through the thin metal skin of our truck and buried itself in a laundry sack inches from my head. Anthony shouted back to us, his voice strained from the effort of controlling the bucking vehicle. “We’ll never outrun them in this thing! It’s too slow! We need to

This new piece of information—that Genevieve had voiced she didn’t want me there—only made my head pound more. “If she truly had a legitimate concern for Chloe’s well-being, I would’ve agreed to postpone introducing you. But she didn’t. And this is important to me.” He reached out and squeezed my hand gently. “What exactly was her concern, then?” That muscle in his jaw flexed again, telling more than his words. “It’s not important.” Though I wanted to know, I let it go. Mostly because at that moment we pulled up on 3rd Avenue and Louis interrupted. “60th is closed. There’s some kind of crane in the street, so the entire road is blocked off.”

I said, making no effort to help him. "Choking on a fluff ball made of your hair. Boy, you're right. Very privileged," Luca said, finally freeing himself. "No need to be sarcastic," I said. "These trucks are only designed for 15 men," Mateo said. "It's no wonder we are a bit tight." "I guess we don't normally transport 1732 men all at one time," Leo replied. "Well, people aren't usually stupid enough to declare war on Stella," Blair commented.

I knew he had just finished and been back from work. "I'm okay. Uhh is there any problem? Is the truck not working again?" I asked him worried. His truck always managed to give him a problem almost anytime. I had no idea why dad was stuck on that truck. The same thing had happened in like a month ago. It was like something was akara wrong with the truck every time, but he refused to let go.

It's not the first time they're doing this, there's nothing written on the papers, they do this every time they're bored and by they I mean, Jason, Severn and Reece. Soon classes were over. Finally. I left the class and went to drop my books in my locker. Then I left the building heading for my car but I stopped in my track when I saw the state of my car. The windshield and windows were covered in pink and black spray paint. The Tyres were flats and sticky notes were littered all over the boot and bonnet. I walked to the car and read the notes Slut Bitch Pig Twat Coward Useless Nothing Whore

"Luca!" I called Luca in a warning tone as he immediately apologized. "Scusa capo. Un camion è arrivato in questo modo." [Sorry boss. A truck came in this way.] Truck drivers are so careless, especially at night, since they tend to fall asleep and that reason always causes accidents every day in the country.

"What's the matter, Tobias?" Tobias said, "Grandpa, Grandma, for some reason, Lucy is unreachable. Wait here while I head out. I'll be back." Then, he took his car keys and sprinted out. Tobias' eye twitched as he rushed to the shopping mall. His heart ached inexplicably, weighed down by an oppressive heaviness. He murmured, "Babe, please be okay!" He slammed on the accelerator and zoomed toward the shopping mall. However, a small truck suddenly came at him. Tobias's expression changed as he violently turned the steering wheel. With a loud screech, the car overturned and fell to the ground, with white smoke coming out of the back.

Tom grunts from the backseat. “I wasn’t leaving yet,” I reply dryly, opening the window for fresh air. “You two better stay downwind, you fucking stink. They’ll smell you a mile away.” “So, what if they smell us?” Carlos snaps. “They won’t care about two drunk bums.” I only grunt in response. He has a point, but that does not change the fact that I am trapped with them in a truck. I clench the steering wheel as we speed towards the facility. I lost a lot of time returning home to fetch these two assholes. If I could have done it alone, I would have, but I am outnumbered.

And that is why we all collected the ‘shipments’ at different times, waited at our respective places for the nightfall, then proceeded together to the base to count our millions. That wasn’t all though! The thrill that followed with the idea of driving a truck full of fuckin’ M&M on the highway congested with normal civilians that despised their lives so much that they would rather slave for 10 shitass hours in damn ironed suits and heels, with a son of a biscuit bitch barking orders to them all day was oddly satisfying. Anything could go wrong. A fuckin’ Karen could slam the brakes in front of my truck and bitch about it for not having a license plate, and then I would drill her skull with

Tony manned the computer station with Talen leaning over him as the admin staff arriving for their shift nervously began the coffee brew unused to seeing either man there so early. The cameras around the office only caught a small section of the road in and out of the compound. “There,” Talen jabbed a finger at the screen. “Gentle,” Tony paused the feed and back tracked. They watched as a corner of a truck entered visual range and retreated towards Havermouth. “Not enough for a clear ID,” Tony said grimly. “Could be one of any dozen trucks.” Talen looked out of the window as an identical truck passed by, the insignia of the company sheening pearlescent in the daylight. R & H transport. Rain