One in a Million - Cover

One in a Million

Copyright© 2019 by Cutlass

Chapter 3

“How are you doing up there, Chanelle?” I looked at the truck ahead of me as we rolled down the freeway in our very own convoy. I had found some short ranged radios we could use to communicate without announcing ourselves to the world. The trucks had CB radios, which we monitored, but didn’t transmit with. We were about an hour out of our home area, on the west side of town. We’d decided to stay on the interstate, as it bypassed the smaller towns between Houston and San Antonio. We were able to run at sixty miles per hour once we’d passed through downtown with its exits and tight turns.

Abby led the way with the box trailer, and Chanelle followed with the combination trailer. I brought up the rear with the fuel tanker. We saw a few cars at the side of the road, but the freeway was open for travel. By now, we were used to not seeing anyone around – except for the trio of Labrador retrievers Chanelle had rescued. We promptly dubbed them Huey, Dewey, and Louie (names we had to explain to Chanelle), and they immediately took to the girl. In their honor, we had half a pallet devoted to their food and other supplies.

“I’m good, Mister Norm,” she replied after a moment. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this!”

“You’re doing fine, lady. If you get tired, let us know, okay?”

Before she could answer, Abby came up on the radio. “I see a moving vehicle!”

“Okay, let’s roll to a stop, ladies,” I said calmly. “Don’t panic.”

Our convoy rolled to a stop, and I climbed down from my rig with my M-16 in hand. As I ran by Chanelle, I called out to her. “Stay in the truck, and get ready to move!”

Abby had her door open, and was standing on the running board with a pair of powerful binoculars in hand. “I see one SUV with three people on the overpass up there.”

I peered in that direction, and spotted a light colored vehicle on the overpass a half mile ahead. “Shit. Well, this sucks.” While I was wondering what to do next, the CB came to life.

“Truck group on I-10, can you hear us?” It was a woman’s voice.

“Should I answer,” Abby asked. At my nod, she keyed her hand mike. “We hear you. State your intentions, please.”

I looked around as Abby spoke. There were three bad points about driving heavy trucks – they couldn’t turn around in a two-lane road (though the freeway was three lanes across each way here), they were really hard to see around, and they could be seen for miles. I trotted around to the passenger side, opened the cab door, and climbed up on the running board.

“Thank you for your assurances,” Abby was saying, “but, as you no doubt know, we have every reason to be cautious.”

“If you wish to drive on,” the woman answered, “we will leave the bridge, and you may continue on your way. We have more than enough supplies, so there is no reason for hostilities.”

“That is true for us, as well,” Abby responded. “To be honest, you are the first people we’ve seen in over six weeks.”

“There are eight of us, four men and four women, including four who made their way here from Dallas a week ago. We found them on this highway, as we have found you. Would you be willing to meet us?”

Abby looked at me, and I sighed and nodded. There was no point in starting a fight, and, if the lady wasn’t understating their numbers, they had us outnumbered.

“Yes, but we are fewer in number, so we don’t want to come closer.”

A moment passed, and then, “We understand. One of our ladies will drive alone to meet you.”

“That will be fine. Please don’t approach us from any direction other than from the overpass you’re on. We are well armed and a little paranoid right now.”

“Yes, I understand. She will be along in a few minutes. Her name is Dominica Harmon, she’s a high school senior, and she’s unarmed.”

“I’m Abigail Vernon. She will be perfectly safe with us.”

A few minutes later, we saw, and then heard, a motorcycle approaching from the overpass to our front. Chanelle had pulled her truck close to Abby’s, dismounted, and was watching behind us. I was watching the passenger side of the road, while Abby watched the driver’s side. We both looked forward, too, and shared our attention with the approaching bike and the people beyond.

The machine rolled up to us and stopped. The rider certainly wasn’t concealing much in the leathers she wore, and she slipped off her helmet to reveal a cascade of red hair. “Hi, I’m Dominica!” If she had any apprehension, it was well-hidden, and my appraisal of her went up a couple of notches.

Abby and I stepped around to the truck’s front bumper, rifles in hand. “I’m Abby, and this is Norm. What can we do for you?”

“We were hoping you’d join us, to be honest,” Dominica replied. “I came here from Dallas with three other people a week ago, and we had a similar conversation about a quarter mile that way,” she pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “Like you, we’d loaded up a couple of trucks and drove down here. We didn’t use those things, though.”

“We’re headed to Austin,” I said. “The weather is better.”

“We are considering the same thing, but San Antonio,” she said. “According to Lyudmila, my friend who’s a farmer, the fuel won’t last a whole lot longer.” She patted her bike. “I only have a few more gallons of stabilized fuel for this.”

Abby and I looked at each other for a moment, and Dominica sighed. “Look, you can take me as a hostage or something. Really, we don’t want to hurt you. Other than the eight of us, you’re the only people we’ve found alive.”

I shook my head. “I won’t hold anyone hostage.” I looked at Abby again. “What do you think?”

“Let me go,” Chanelle said from behind us. “And don’t say no. You two can help each other and have babies, and all that. I’m still a kid. Just promise you won’t try to rescue me if they keep me.”

I opened my mouth to say no, and then Abby spoke up. “We will let you go with them. I’ll reserve comment on what will happen if you get hurt or kidnapped.” She looked at me. “Do we have a choice?”

“No, not really,” I admitted. “Chanelle, go with her, but be careful.” After handing me her rifle, Chanelle and Dominica rode off on the bike. “Dammit,” I swore softly.

“You love her, don’t you?” Abby asked quietly.

“I love both of you,” I blurted without thinking. “Uh,” I looked over at her. “I mean, I never had kids, and...”

“I understand. It’s hard to not develop feelings in a situation like ours. We both love you, too.”

“I’m not trying to do anything, I mean, especially with her. She’s like the daughter I never had, you know?”

The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.