When you've been on the road long enough, you've encountered enough oddities. As a long-haul freight driver, Burt Wiggs felt like he'd seen enough oddities—he was on his own His third wife is getting divorced, and the fat Mexican woman with a rash in her folds has polished his nerves in all kinds of ways to be as rough as a rock in the Grand Canyon. From the moment he came out of the courtroom, he believed more than anyone that he would never be surprised again by anything, but that night was an exception.
The scene that Burt Wiggs saw still made him a little unable to believe his eyes.
It was in the middle of Route 73, a moonlit night, there were few cars, and there were no people on the side of the road with thumbs up for taxis, and he drove smoothly until he came behind a bend that wasn't too steep. Got a Stirling truck. Burt Wiggs rarely sees a heavy truck of this class on the 73, and of course, it's not just the shape of the car that caught his attention.
In fact, he couldn't even see what it was at first, because the driver of the truck had his fucking high beams on and Burt Wiggs couldn't help squinting. When he closed his eyes, his vision was blurred by the strong light. As a freight driver, you might have one hand on the steering wheel and the other grabbing chips, but your eyes should be on the road ahead of you... Burt Wiggs is not that kind People who want to go to God's arms early for a little excitement.
He angrily turned on his high beams and tried to remind the idiot on the other side of the road to take it easy, but the other party didn't respond at all, it was very fast-much faster than this type of heavy truck should have, it was fast It passed Bert Wiggs' car, and when the two cars met, Burt Wiggs pressed down the window and spit at the Stirling and raised his middle finger.
"Bastard, why didn't you go to hell earlier?!"
He growled towards the driver's seat of the car.
However, just as he was venting his anger and preparing to turn his head, in the yellow light of the streetlights, Bert Wiggs was surprised to see the figure behind the window of the car.
A blond girl sat in front of the huge steering wheel, she turned her head and gave him a blank look.
Burt Wiggs wasn't sure if it was the lights, or if that moment was just too short.
But the girl looked impossibly young.
Her blond hair fluttered in the night wind pouring in from the car window, her blue pupils were like that of a baby, and she had a long and narrow nose and lips—a typical Eastern European look, and at the same time full of the childishness of an underage girl.
Viggs thought she looked sixteen at most, or younger.
The two cars staggered in a very short time, and then drove in opposite directions, and in Burt's flash of time, the Stirling had become a smaller and smaller shadow.
All he could see in the rearview mirror was the rear of the car, with what might be a fuel tank hanging from its base, but without any markings on it. That's against the rules... Of course, there's nothing more against the rules than letting an underage girl drive a heavy truck over the speed limit.
Burt Wiggs thinks it's a weird thing, of course, sometimes you'll see underage boys and girls on the road sneaking out in their parents' cars, but no one wants to let them Driving a heavy truck—that stuff doesn't come cheap.
What's more, it appears to be full of unknown liquids... Whether it's crude oil or chemicals, it can be said to be extremely dangerous.
For a split second Burt Wiggs even wanted to call the police, but he finally pushed the idea.
Maybe the girl's dad, and of course her boyfriend (or both) was sitting next to her, he just didn't see it, no need to make a fuss...
Burt Wiggs made a lot of excuses for himself (it was always easy for him), but then he just thought: What's up with him, what's up with me
Then he stepped on the gas pedal and resumed his boring work. At that time he didn't think he would have more intersection with that girl, that Stirling. But when he started to drive back two days later, he passed by a small town that was not prosperous.
Everything was so perfect that it could even be described as "fate": he had just received a sum of money and there was a girl he knew in a bar in a small town he had passed by countless times. Burt Wiggs felt he should treat himself, so he stopped in that town for a night of fun.
Then in the parking lot in front of the bar, he saw the Sterling heavy truck, its huge size was very conspicuous even among the many trucks.
Oh, the car the girl drives.
Burt thought subconsciously, and he walked over to the Stirling after getting out of the car. It's a featureless heavy truck, of course, it has the same contrasting paint as all cars, a series of crosses and Indian-style dreamcatchers hanging under the rear-view mirror, and swearing fingers on the doors And scratches from small rubble... It looked so normal except for the unmarked off-white oil storage tank behind it. Burt didn't know why he cared so much about it, and the girl driving the car.
He circled around the car a few times, and curiosity led him to climb up the white shelf at the back of the car, where he patted on the silver tin, first to make sure it was empty (after all, the girl was driving the car) The speed can be a little scary). There was a dull voice from behind the tin, and Burt listened, then suddenly sneered.
He suddenly realized that in fact he couldn't hear anything. This was not the tin-iron garden bucket that his family used from the 1960s to the present. The insignificant human slap met the thick partition, and there would be no echo. any difference.
He felt that maybe he really just lost his head.
So he jumped off the shelf, ready to wake himself up with a glass of tequila.
He only walked less than ten steps away, and then, a muffled sound came from behind him.
Bert was stunned, he turned his head sharply and looked at the truck in amazement, then waited a moment... Except for the noise and laughter coming from the bar, the whole parking lot was silent.
It sounded like it was coming from the inside of the oil tank, but how is that possible
Burt shrugged uncertainly, turned his head, reassured the fact that he needed tequila, and walked straight to the bar.
In my memory, this bar was very lively, which was incompatible with this small town where 99% of the residents were Christians. The door was cheesy and bright pink neon lights, and the lamps outlined the outline of a clear woman. The interior lights are dim, glowing the same ambiguous red, cigarettes and alcohol and the night make the air here turbid, like a faint mist. In one corner of the bar sits an outdated jukebox, covered in dust. The music here is full of alcohol and swearing and sex, but all the truck drivers love this, they don't mind talking and laughing in the noisy background.
The scantily clad waitresses are far from young and beautiful like the girls in the big cities. Most of them are a little fat, but they are more comfortable with the teasing of the drivers.
How wonderful...it was an atmosphere that Bert knew and loved.
On the other side of the bar is a pool table where people normally spend some time. Yet when he walked into the bar, he knew something was wrong.
No one was there, they all gathered in the bar area, surrounded by a girl like a dog smelling meat.
The girl was as striking as a golden pearl on a black velvet cushion.
She was leaning against the table, sipping a glass of orange juice.
The waitresses gathered indifferently at the other end, watching the men try to buy her a drink.
"We don't sell alcohol to minors here."
The bartender said dryly.
And the girl slowly raised her eyes, her eyes were an indescribable blue-purple under the light.
"I'm not a minor."
she said, and then bit into the habit and gave him a provocative smile.
I have to say, her face is suffocating.
Burt couldn't help but take a step forward. In fact, very few people know why his poor third wife divorced him, because she began to notice the gaze that Burt fell on her daughter...a look that would horrify any mother.
Burt loves teenage girls, and he insists he's not a pedophile, but he does admit to being attracted to them.
Especially blond and childish, between adults and children.
And the girl in the bar is almost like a man of his dreams.
He looked at her greedily, his eyes so sticky that she suddenly turned her head to meet his.
At that moment, the world seemed to stop turning.
She gave Bert a smile.
Then she crossed the crowd and said "hi" to him.
The atmosphere seemed to suddenly stagnate, the waitress was still clearing the table, and the others cast odd glances at Bert.
"Hey, you know this guy?"
someone shouted at her.
The girl just smiled.
"You're here, it looks like he's here too, is the time up?"
She said something that Bert didn't understand at all, as if she was as familiar with him as she had known him for ten years, and her attitude was very calm. Burt didn't even know how he got out of the bar with her.
She pulled him all the way to the back of the parking lot, and suddenly she seemed relieved, showing Burt a big smile for her age.
"Thank you," she said to him, "you know, my brother asked me to wait for him there, but I thought that someone like me might not be suitable for that kind of place. I was so nervous that I thought they were going to Eat me. Sorry for pretending to know you on purpose, I just wanted to get away... ah, by the way, forgot to introduce myself, I'm Raisha."
She stuck out her tongue mischievously.
"You seem like a nice guy," Laisha said.
Burt felt a tickling in his crotch, and he swallowed, his cheeks red with excitement.
His palms were dripping with sweat, but his face was full of smiles.
"When, of course, I'm a good person, that place is really not suitable for a little girl like you... I mean, your brother should take care of you."
Laisha's eyes stopped for a moment on Bert's face.
Although the truck driver didn't notice it himself, his eyes could not be concealed at all. He unconsciously and greedily traced Laisha's naked chest outside the T-shirt and the thighs under her shorts with his eyes, almost drooling.
Laisha looked Bert directly in the eyes.
She looks a special kind of temperament - childish, but at the same time has a special charm like a mature woman.
"Yes, but someone like him is always a little careless."
"Ah, of course..." Bert hardly knew what to say to Laisha and then he remembered that night, "Hey, you know what I already knew about you, we met, you drove that car... "
He pointed to the Stirling and said.
Laisha's smile deepened.
"Oh no" she giggled and covered her face, "I thought no one knew, my brother was very tired that day, so, you know, just all of a sudden, I was almost caught by the police and scared me to death, but luckily My brother woke up before that."
As she spoke, she led Burt to the Stirling without a trace.
The car was so large that all the lights from the street lamps were blocked, and behind the car, the shadow was completely black.
This is a visual blind spot, Burt suddenly realized this, and an evil thought emerged uncontrollably in his head.
God, he really shouldn't be like this, he's aroused enough doubts but it's just so right in front of him.
Dead end, darkness and a girl who just suits his appetite...
And it was at this time that Laisha suddenly stretched out a hand and gently pressed it on his chest.
It was only the slightest touch, but Bert's back was still leaning against the back of the car. He stared at Laisha with wide eyes.
"You..." She licked her teeth, "you've been looking at me, why?"
"I, I didn't..."
Burt still wanted to resist, but his hand seemed to have his own consciousness, pinching Laisha's shoulder.
This little bitch was seducing me—and in contrast to what it showed, Burt was screaming like a beast inside.
He felt the touch of Laisha's tiny skeleton under his palm, and countless scenes from the past appeared in his mind.
The girls' soft skin and shrill screams.
Nothing is better than that.
And Laisha... If she hadn't wanted me to fuck her, how could she have followed me to a place like this!
She is voluntary!
Bert squeezed Laisha tightly. If it was a normal situation, or if it was a normal girl, she should have started to struggle because of the pain at this time. Of course, Laisha didn't do that, and Burt was in his own thoughts, making excuses for himself—
Perhaps that's why Burt didn't realize that there was water vapor in the air that shouldn't be there.
On top of the oil tank behind him, a flap slowly, slowly opened...
After half an hour—
Laisha climbed to the top of the tank.
What is stored here is actually a whole tank of seawater, and the air is filled with the fishy smell of seawater. She squatted at the opening of the living cover and looked inside. In the darkness, there were four bright red lights flickering.
She frowned and took out her mobile phone from her pocket, and shone it in with the light from the screen, but a piece of minced meat was thrown out just in time, it was a man's right hand. Laisha kicked it and found that the finger twitched a little or two.
And below her, inside the fuel tanker, was the sound of squeaking, broken bones and ripped muscles.
"Your Majesty, are you still satisfied with your meal?"
Laisha wrinkled her nose and spoke to the people inside in the voice of a waitress that she pretended to be.