Alone, Book 3: The Journey by Darrell Maloney Read Free Book Online Page B

driver’s seat and looked around to survey his temporary accommodations.
         Both doors had push button locks, which he immediately depressed. The windows were all the way up and would stay that way, since they were electric. The trucker had been running his air conditioner when the world went black. That was good. It meant the sleeper cab wasn’t open to the elements and should be dry enough to give him the rest he needed before striking out again at nightfall.
         A half-eaten sandwich sat on the trucker’s console.
         Dave resisted the urge to pick up the crusty relic to taste it.
         The curtain to the sleeper cab was open. It was standard fare. A four inch foam mattress, two pillows. Reasonably clean. The “Southern Freight Trucking” emblem on the truck’s door told Dave it would be. He knew that large nationwide trucking companies were extremely image conscious. They expected their truckers to maintain their rigs, and themselves, in a reasonably clean manner.
         He should be able to get some much needed rest without adopting any bedbugs, lice or roaches.
         But first things first.
         He took out the claw hammer, sat on the edge of the bunk, and swung the hammer viciously into the back of the sleeper’s wall.
         One, twice, a dozen times.
         The Fiberglas first broke, then splintered, then flew around the sleeper.
         Dave didn’t care. He’d brush the pieces off the bunk before he laid down.
         When he was finished, he had a portal he could look through about four inches wide.
         Just large enough to look through as he lay on the bunk, watching his Explorer until he drifted off to sleep.
         Before he laid down, he urinated in the sleeper’s toilet beneath the trucker’s microwave.
         He’d have preferred to have stepped outside to do it, but the rain was coming down heavily again, and he wanted to dry off, not get wetter.
         He looked through the sleeper’s cubbies until he found a large tarp, and cut off a piece two feet square.
         When he finally laid down to rest, he placed the piece of tarp next to him. The wind was blowing the rain south, over the cab and toward his vehicle. Therefore very little rain was coming through his peephole. Just an occasional splattered drop or two.
         He knew, though, that the wind could change direction. If he woke up later with water in his face, he’d merely wad up the piece of tarp and stuff it into the hole.
         For now, though, he was exhausted.
         It was light enough now to take off the night vision goggles.
         Laying on the bunk, peering out into the morning, he had a clear view of his Explorer and everything to the south of it.
         He kept it firmly in his sights until he slowly drifted off to sleep.
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 12
     
         Dave awoke with a start. The rain had stopped, and a small robin stood perched on the bottom of his peephole, peering in at him.
         Mooching food, perhaps.
         Taken aback, but now used to conversing with dead men and animals, Dave managed to utter, “Well hello, little fella.”
         Perhaps finding conversation between species more weird than Dave did, the bird flew away. Dave peered out at the now unobstructed view of his Explorer and saw nothing amiss.
         From the position of the sharp angle of the shadows on the east side of his vehicle, he instinctively knew it was early afternoon. He guessed perhaps two o’clock or so.
         He looked at his wrist, but his watch wasn’t there.
         For a brief moment he panicked. Then he opened the curtain to expose the truck’s cab, and saw the watch sitting on the driver’s console.
         He didn’t realize how tired he was when he crawled into the truck that morning. He didn’t even remember taking it off.
         Once his eyes focused, he looked at the