Reclaim

Highway

                           Morgan
                          Michigan
                             1/1/27
Making our way from Michigan city all the way to Dallas was the big plan.
I was more or less ready after we blew out from our house and passed on through the woods, but by the time we made it to the gas station, our first pit stop, I was already tired and aching.

We parked our bikes by the front and went in with our bags and our cash. At this time of the night, it was empty, other than the guy behind the cash register whose face was covered in pimples, and a trucker in the back getting snacks for his late night trip. Matt grabbed a grocery basket, and we filled it with the essentials needed for survival.
Beef Jerky and Energy drinks.

The cashier was ringing up the trucker, looking like he needed sleep desperately, even though it was only 2:20 am.

He paid for his diesel and energy drinks and left, giving us a glance on the way out. His face was worked, and his skin looked tough. He smelled like tobacco and old people, and when he looked at me, it felt like he knew something I didn't.

I let it go, knowing it was probably my mind acting up. All this stress from being on the run and being tired as the dead while doing it was putting me on edge. The cashier rang us up, took our money, and gave us our change, and without another word, we walked out.

The air felt cold and moist.
I swear if it rains, I'll turn myself in, not even freedom wins when it comes to hypothermia. As we were stuffing our bags full of snacks, I felt someone watching us. I looked back, and the trucker was looking over at us again. His truck was getting filled up at the pump, leaving him with a lit cigarette in his mouth, leaning up against the side of his 8 wheeler. In the shade of the night, he looked menacing, boring holes through me with nothing but his gaze. Matt caught him staring at us and was just as creeped out as I was.

He stopped packing and started glancing back.
"What does he want?"
Unlike me, Matt can handle confrontation, even when it's with someone twice his size. He couldn't care less whether they're tough as bricks or big as buildings. He'll tell them what he wants to tell them, even if it starts a fight he can't finish.

He fixed his posture to make himself look bigger in case he tried anything.
We finished packing up our goods and zipped up our packs, swinging them on our backs. We were on our bikes ready to hit the road, but it still felt off just leaving. As soon as we started biking off, he called out to us.

"Y'all goin' to Gary?"
The question caught both of us, so off guard I could only respond with.
"... yeah?"

He took one last puff and then dropped his cigarette on the asphalt, crushing it with his boot.

"On my way there too, want a ride?"
Matt answered before I could.
"Were good, we don't got money either way."

Right before we left, he said something that made us think twice.
"I already got two instigates. What's two more? Y'all need the help, don't you? It's what I do."

Matt's eyes went wide, slowly darting back to the man.
"How did you...?"
"It's obvious, trust me. Cameras don't work here, only on the inside, nobody would even know."

Before Matt could say no, I rolled my bike up to the back.
"We definitely need the help."

Matt would've decked me then and there had I not had a good point. We're already at rock bottom, and if it comes down to it, we could get out of a tight spot he might put us in.

The man threw up the door to the back, revealing cargo almost filling the entire truck. Brown boxes stacked up, leaving a good-sized pocket to squeeze into. Inside the dark truck were two silhouettes of kids. Me and Matt shoved our bikes in, the two helping us, giving us just enough room to sit comfortably more or less.

Whether we could trust this guy or not didn't matter much. What did matter was we had a chance at getting closer to Dallas. As long as he wasn't a weirdo, we wouldn't have much to worry about.

When he shut the doors, it was pitch dark. I finally realized how tired I was and how sore my body felt. The truck started humming and bumping, meaning we were on the road again.
"Morgan, you trust him?"

It didn't take me long to answer.
"Nope, random trucker picking up two runaway kids, not a good sign. Too bad it's our best option right now."
"If we get kidnapped and die, I'm kicking your ass in the afterlife. If it was up to me, I'd bike away while I could."

If we kept going on our own, we wouldn't have anywhere to stop and rest. Sadly, this is our best bet, even if it's sketchy as all hell.

I shut my eyes and let the next few hours pass by in exchange for sleep, at least as best as I could in a moving truck.