Troublesome Trucks Face Novels & Stories

And that Alejandro was not out there traumatizing whoever bombed his ‘goods’ inside my trucks! “They are still running the investigation, but the news we’ve found thus far is that one of the truck’s engines malfunctioned. And since it was a convoy, they all stopped to assist. The gas from the truck was gushing out of the engine and in a blink of an eye, caught fire. The fire spread to the next truck, and then the next, and then the next…” Yeah right! That… That didn’t make sense at all. “We lost about 3 million on the trucks, your Grace. That… that is a significant loss to Express Emporium and I do not know how we are going to recover all of that money.” The man’s voice broke, and sadness fi

I said, walking closer to the men while examining the vehicle with my eyes. “Only one percent of truck drivers have these. It’s from the big cities where humans live,” one of them replied. “Hmmm, I see. Then you should be careful if you’re heading north. There’s been a big pile of cow poop that hasn’t been moved. It could ruin your perfect tires,” I lied, trying to get him to reveal his destination. “Oh, that’s bad for them. I’m heading west, so it’s not really my problem. One of the small districts Skywood Pack owns.”

The silence that followed the power failure was predatory. I stood in the center of the dark garage, the .45 heavy in my hands. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, aided only by the moonlight filtering through the shattered window. Every shadow seemed to mimick the monsters. Outside, the faint hiss of tires on gravel announced their arrival. I crept to the edge of the large bay door, peering through a rusted crack in the metal. Three black transport trucks, the kind used for hauling livestock or heavy machinery, rolled into the lot. Behind them followed two tactical SUVs with the Aegis Zenith logo embossed on the doors.

I was making a delivery to a rural village when a mob of villagers suddenly swarmed my truck. They surrounded the vehicle, pried open the cargo hold, and started looting everything inside. “We hit the jackpot this time! A whole truckload of flour! This is enough to feed everyone for ages! Grab it!” The cargo door was forced open, and white sacks spilled all over the ground. The villagers went insane, snatching my cargo like starving wolves. They divided it up without the slightest hesitation. I was pinned to the ground, my mouth clamped shut by someone’s hand. All I could do was watch as they stripped the truck clean. But what I was transporting wasn’t flour at all. It was a highly r

He could feel their contempt, a foul, metallic taste on the back of his tongue. His phone buzzed, pulling him from his kingly trance. It was a message from Marcus. "Boss, we've got a problem. Three of Sterling Industries' cargo trucks on the eastern route have been hit. Not robbed, just… vandalized. Tires slashed, engines smashed. The drivers were roughed up, told to deliver a message: 'This city doesn't belong to the Sterlings.'"

“They’re going to start looking for us soon. We can’t afford to just sit here.” As I turned onto the road, something felt wrong. The truck was acting funny, kind of wobbly. I glanced in the rearview mirror and sucked in a breath. The side of our truck was crunched in. Great, it must have happened yesterday during the chase. “We’ve got to get this fixed,” I told him as I swung into an old gas station that boasted of a faded auto-repair sign and two spoilt cars parked haphazardly on the gravel out front.

I frown and press the gas a little harder, moving into the left lane. But the truck moves with me. And it's getting closer. My heart starts to race. I glance ahead. There's another truck in front of me. Also big. Also coming straight at me. My hands tighten on the wheel. I look to my right. Another lane, but there's a truck there too, boxing me in. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. I swear under my breath. "Trust me, Mike, you'll burn in hell for this." The trucks close in. And I have nowhere to go.

Now that Myositis realized his phone might not have been working properly, he feared what the Teacher might think if he had been repeatedly phoning with no answer. * * * Even at a modest seventy kilometers an hour, the dangling front bumper of the truck grated against the deserted suburban road with a grinding roar, spraying sparks up onto the hood. Jim thought they should get off the road. He could barely even see where they were headed. The truck's lone working headlight had been knocked off-center and was casting a skewed sidelong beam into the woods beside the country highway. McEwan sat in the passenger seat, staring blankly at the rosewood box on her lap.

“They’re going to start looking for us soon. We can’t afford to just sit here.” As I turned onto the road, something felt wrong. The truck was acting funny, kind of wobbly. I glanced in the rearview mirror and sucked in a breath. The side of our truck was crunched in. Great, it must have happened yesterday during the chase. “We’ve got to get this fixed,” I told him as I swung into an old gas station that boasted of a faded auto-repair sign and two spoilt cars parked haphazardly on the gravel out front.

Randy sighed. Sensing Debra's silence, he looked into the rearview mirror. "Debra, we're almost at the mountain. What's bothering you?" Debra snapped out of her thoughts and saw everyone looking at her. "It's nothing. I just feel a little uneasy," she replied. Erica waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry. See the two Penske trucks behind us? They're filled with Marion's men." Garland exclaimed, "You packed people into Penske trucks? Whose idea was this?"