Room for the Night

Jon started the Rogue, but instead of pulling toward the interstate, he let the engine idle for a moment. "What are you doing?" Brandi asked.

"I just..." He glanced toward the diner. "I want to make sure that truck's gone."

She nodded immediately. "So do I."

He eased through the parking lot at little more than walking speed. Neither of them said much as they scanned the rows of parked vehicles. Families loaded leftovers into minivans. Pickup trucks pulled away one by one. A motorcycle rumbled toward the highway. Everything looked perfectly ordinary.

"No black semi," Brandi murmured.

Jon circled once more, this time driving behind the diner where the truck parking spaces were located. A battered livestock hauler occupied one space, and a white refrigerated trailer sat idling in another. They pulled back onto the frontage road and into the neighboring gas station.

The fuel islands bustled with late-afternoon travelers topping off their tanks before the evening drive. Delivery vans came and went. Two tractor-trailers sat at the diesel pumps, one bright red and the other faded blue.

Brandi slowly turned in her seat, searching the edges of the lot. "I don't see him."

"Neither do I." Jon parked beside a pump and stepped out.

"You want to stay in the car?" Jon asked.

She looked around the station before shaking her head. "No."

He understood. Neither of them wanted to be alone. She climbed out beside him, her purse hanging securely from her shoulder now. While Jon filled the tank, Brandi stood close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. Every distant diesel engine made her glance toward the road, but each time it was another truck, another driver, another stranger heading somewhere else.

When the pump finally clicked, Jon replaced the nozzle and looked around one last time."I think he's gone."

Brandi exhaled, realizing she'd been holding her breath. "I hope so."

Jon climbed back behind the wheel and steered toward the interstate. The sun hung low over the western horizon as they merged into the steady stream of traffic. Neither of them spoke for several miles. The adrenaline had faded, leaving only a heavy exhaustion.

Eventually Brandi broke the silence.."Do you think we should call the police?"

Jon thought about it before answering."And tell them what?"

"That my purse disappeared." She rested her elbow against the door. "They'd probably think I forgot it in the car."

"And even if they didn't..." He finished the thought for her. "They'd ask for a description."

She sighed. "All we've got is 'a black eighteen-wheeler.'"

Jon nodded. "That's not much to go on."

Another quiet settled over the cabin. After a while, Jon glanced at the dashboard clock. Twilight was beginning to settle over the highway. "We should start looking for a motel. We'll take the next decent one."

Brandi leaned her head against the window, watching the last of the daylight slip behind the rolling fields. "I just want today to be over."

Jon reached across the console and gently squeezed her hand. "It is."

Neither of them noticed that, several counties away, a notification quietly appeared on another phone, confirming that Brandi's device had just begun moving west once again. Wide Load smiled, started his engine, and eased his black Peterbilt back onto the interstate. He no longer needed to keep them in sight.

By the time the first vacancy sign appeared, the last traces of daylight had faded from the western sky. Jon slowed the Rogue and pulled off the interstate, following a frontage road lined with fast-food restaurants, gas stations, and a handful of aging chain motels that had all seen better decades.

They passed two with flickering neon signs before settling on a modest two-story place whose parking lot was at least well lit and looked reasonably busy. Neither of them said much as Jon parked beneath a streetlamp. The silence between them was no longer awkward. It was simply exhaustion.

Brandi rested her forehead against the window for a moment before letting out a slow breath and slipping her purse over her shoulder. This time she wrapped the strap securely around her arm without even thinking about it.

"I'll get the room," Jon said quietly.

She nodded. "I'll come with you."

The lobby smelled faintly of coffee and industrial carpet cleaner. A television mounted in one corner played the evening news to an audience of no one while the elderly clerk behind the counter welcomed them with the practiced smile of someone nearing the end of a long shift.

Jon handed over his driver's license and credit card, silently thankful he still had both, while Brandi stood close beside him, absently resting one hand on his arm. Within a few minutes they had a key card, directions to Room 214, and a recommendation for breakfast that neither of them really heard.

Outside, Jon popped the rear hatch of the Rogue. They worked together without speaking, each taking a suitcase and an overnight bag. The familiar routine of unloading the car felt strangely comforting after the chaos of the afternoon.

With the luggage in hand, they climbed the exterior staircase to the second floor, the metal steps echoing beneath their feet. Jon unlocked the door, held it open for Brandi, and followed her inside, quietly closing it behind them as though shutting out the highway might also leave the day's unsettling events outside.