Romans & histoires Wooden Troublesome Truck

The truck smelled like rust and old oil, like the corpse of something that had died slowly enough to know it was happening. Julian had chosen it deliberately. A 1998 Chevrolet with a primer-gray hood and tires that had probably rolled over their last good mile three years ago. The interior was a masterpiece of deliberate deterioration cigarette burns on the upholstery that he’d added himself, a radio that only caught AM stations, a cracked windshield held together with duct tape that had yellowed into something resembling old bone.

Its flared-out fenders, wide-body chassis, and sporty tires made it look like a street racing machine straight out of a Fast and Furious film. “It’s a nice car. Wouldn’t you say?” Irena eased her way toward Amy, cutting her eyes over at the silver Camaro. “How would you like to be behind the wheel roaring down the highway, trying to chase 2Pac because he ran off with your baby in an armored truck?” Irena pointed over at a black armored vehicle parked near the factory’s garage door entranceway. Amy looked over at the armored truck. The truck was the size of a motor home with a space shuttle design in the front. Amy didn’t like Irena’s game, but she didn’t expect to like it.

“It might be bumpy, so hold on.” I did as he asked, grabbing a hold of the door as he maneuvered the truck to the back of the house. Sure enough, there was a small drive leading through the woods, the tree branches scraping the sides of the truck as we barreled through. “You’re driving,” I realized as he pulled out onto a long, desolate road. “Shirtless.”

I used to worry that his eardrums would rupture. I lay down next to Alaric after taking a truck from his toy basket. My hand moved the truck across Alaric and then moved it away when Alaric wanted to grab it. “I am a truck. I carry heavy items like building materials. Don’t be careless when you are near me because even if my driver drives slowly and carefully, I could roll over and hit you.” I said that as if Alaric was five years old. “Oh,” Alaric responded when I made the truck fall to the side. I didn’t know what was on his mind.

The officer continued cautiously, "And it's still strange, sir... a large transport truck overturned on the side of the asphalt road leading to the farm, and about a kilometer further on, another large truck overturned on the side of the road. Neither vehicle had any documents or licenses indicating ownership, but we took the license plates and sent them to the traffic police to trace the owners in the records." Hisham's expression hardened, his tone a mixture of praise and urgency:

As she considered her appearance, she wondered if anyone would stop with her looking such a fright. She didn’t know how long she waited out there, but finally someone came along in an extremely large truck – an eighteen-wheeler. The driver was hauling a trailer that said, Getter Done Trucking, on the side. The truck was obnoxiously loud as the driver put it in park. She would have stood, but she just didn’t have the strength.

Silence fell between them—heavy, suffocating. They both knew how bad things could get… if their suspicions turned out to be true. Mr. Harthwore wouldn’t need to lift a finger. His son, Joshua, was more than capable—perhaps even worse. If it came to that, he would make sure the driver from that night was found and punished. “The truck has been involved in multiple incidents,” Adrian said finally. “From the records, most could pass as accidents… but not all.” He leaned forward slightly. “What happened last night? That didn’t feel random.”

THE RIDE got a little bumpy going up to the town because the truck was pretty old. It jumped every time it ran on an uneven road. Yric with his friends held tightly to the side of the truck as they all sat on its back not to get hurt. His hands had gone numb. The street would be quiet if not only for the rumbling sound of the truck. There wasn't a single soul walking outside.

When Jean was half a centimeter away from me, a honk blared from behind. The three of us jumped. I thought that someone had spotted us. Looking at the rearview mirror, I just realized that my truck had stopped in the middle of the road, blocking the way of the others. "Jean, please move aside. I need to move the truck." She reluctantly got off me. I slowly move the truck to the side to let the other truck pass. The driver poked his head out to look around. He then chuckled and left.

I took four days off from work as I drove my family to our cabin in the woods, we quickly set up everything we would be needing, my mom strictly warned us about taking any work related calls because we would be in deep shit, and we know better than to disobey her, that woman can become an erupting volcano when she is angry, I wouldn't want that on my head. I don't know where it came from but my little sister decided that we prepare a trap, because she believed that in this woods, we could find unicorns. I told her that she had been reading too many fantasy novels, but she wouldn't let me be, so I had to do what she wanted for my own