Troublesome Trucks Face Novels & Stories

But their very countenance showed they didn't “What happened?” They looked at themselves, the tension obvious. “I asked a question.” “It was a collision, sir,” one of them said carefully. “A truck—” “I know what it was,” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. “I was there.” “How,” I asked slowly, “does a truck that size appear on a secured route without prior notice?” “Well?” “We… don’t have a full explanation yet, sir.” I let out a quiet, humorless breath. Of course they didn’t.

He hopped back into the car and urged his brother, “Let’s turn around!” “Alright!” Gibson’s brother immediately turned the van around and drove back, but as they were driving back in their opposite direction, a fleet of trucks approached them on the other side of the bridge. These trucks were next to each other, menacingly approaching them without room for even a bicycle to pass through. Gibson’s brother stopped the car immediately and exclaimed, “What the hell is going on? Why do I feel that these trucks are intentionally sandwiching us? Have we been exposed?”

I lean in, kissing my mate and believing him utterly. The day-long train across the south of Moon Valley was bad, but honestly, compared to this truck? I groan as we hit yet another bump and I’m tossed against Luca’s side, hissing as my back again hits a spot on the wall that I know is going to leave a pretty purple bruise. “You all right?” he murmurs, subtly putting an arm around me for support. “I think they planned these stupid transports for big guys,” I say, glaring around at the fabric-covered truck that at least forty of us are shoved into.

"I will snap his fingers one by one. I will peel the skin off his chest while he is still breathing. No man touches my mate and keeps his hands." "The trucks are not ready," Vance argued, stepping right into my face despite the red light burning in my eyes. "The gas tanks are half empty. The west road is completely flooded with mud from the storm. If we go now, we lose three trucks in the ditch." "We move right now," I growled.

The cops were catching on to some truckers being in on the big deals, so there was a need for something else because they were starting to lose too much merchandise as well as laborers when the truckers got hauled off to jail, and the merch was sent back to their homes to tell their fucking stories. Now, by using well-respected businesses and organizations that are trusted the world over, things have been even better than before. Off-loading furniture on a cargo container at night brings no real scrutiny from anyone, especially when the furniture company has been in business for a hundred years or so. Who'd expect those people to be involved in something like this?

Zeke smiled at me. I nodded and focused back at the road. My eyes narrowed as I saw a truck coming our way. It seemed like it was weaving between the two lanes. I slowed down a bit but I realized that the truck was out of control. It was going too fast and the two trailers behind it were just barely hanging on. “Everyone! Hold on!” I yelled at them, turning to swerve out of the way.

Hе throws hіѕ bаg іn the back and wе lеаvе wіthоut hassle. Trаffіс іѕ flоwіng wеll dеѕріtе the numbеr оf mіnіvаnѕ and SUVѕ раrkеd around the blосk. Most оf thеѕе gіаnt оff-rоаd truсkѕ and vans are sparkling nеw.

Damian was feeling pretty frustrated, rubbing his temples. "The only thing I'm still wondering is how that big truck could have driven through a restricted area. Unfortunately, it's up to the police to inspect the truck. I've asked the Port Authority who the truck belongs to. But there's not a single satisfactory answer." "I told you not to expect much from the guys in uniform, Marcus. They just aren't very good at their jobs." "You're talking about me?" Damian slowly turned his head while Marcus let out a small laugh. "I think you forgot about the meeting here, Harold."

Another truck suddenly approached theirs' from a distance. Mabel's fists immediately clenched as she saw the truck moving in a speed towards them. "Chief." The driver muttered to her. "What should we do?" "He passed the other side." She was so angry that her vein almost popped out of her skin. "Avoid him." While trying to avoid the truck coming directly at them, the driver tried to pass the other side of the road, but while at it, and other truck came out from the other side, and rammed against each other....

Each truck at least had five cameras and a tracker attached to it, just in case there ran into any problems on the way. Izzy and Harley both mounted in the nearby bushes, keeping guard with their snipper riffles ready and Binoculars handy while Paulo stayed in the car with Dominico streaming all the video footages transmitted from all the cameras mounted on the trucks. The fucking stress wasn’t a joke. The transport ran smoothly, most of the trucks dispatched to locations where they’d be distributed to buyers and most of them shipped off for safe keeping. But in all, we succeeded and all I could think of was having a really long bath.