Hour Of Darkness

CH 17 - "The Hitcher"

17...The Hitcher...

Byron “Bubba” Hollandsworth controlled the big rig with a skilled hand as he sped down the long straight stretch of two lane highway. His rear end was empty, having left the last trailer and load back in Denver days ago. He had a few days off before he had to pick up another load and he couldn't wait to get home to Sarah and the girls.

He glanced at the family photo wedged into his dash near the speedometer. Sarah was a sight and the two small girls at her side were her spittin' image. Bubba was what most people referred to as “burly”, some even described him as a mountain of a man. He certainly didn't look like he fit with those three beautiful angels and some had even joked and accused him of photo shopping himself into that picture.

Bubba chuckled and gazed adoringly at the three most important people in his life. He certainly didn't appear to belong with them, hovering over them with his huge frame and rough features, but he thanked God in heaven that those three ladies couldn't disagree more. They were his refuge, but he was their rock.

Up ahead, a man walked along the shoulder of the road. His clothes sagged a bit and looked damp. He walked with his arms at his sides, staring straight ahead. Bubba slowed the truck and pulled up next to the man. The big rig rolled slowly along at a snail's pace. The man continued to walk as if he wasn't even aware of the huge rig rumbling loudly beside him.

Bubba reached over and popped open the passenger door. “Hey, buddy.” He called out. “Need a lift?” Chilled air swept in through the passenger door. The man would catch his death if he stayed out in that cold in those clothes. “C'mon, fella, climb on in and get outta the cold.”

The man finally looked up. He was a nice enough looking guy, though he seemed a bit lost. His blond hair was unruly and slightly dirty, and his clothes weren't just wet, but caked and grimy. Before Bubba could reconsider his decision to give the guy a ride, the man was climbing up inside the cab.

“Buddy, you look like someone just dragged you out of the river.” Bubba shook his head and shifted gears as the big rig rumbled on down the road, slowly picking up speed. He stuck out his hand to his passenger. “Byron Hollandsworth.” He chuckled. “But you can cell me Bubba.”

The man stared straight ahead. He didn't shake Bubba's hand. Didn't even look at him.

Bubba shrugged and withdrew his hand. “Not a talker, huh?” He nodded. “That's okay. I can talk enough for the both of us.”

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The 1964 Shelby Cobra turned off the main road and into the parking lot of the Shadow Pines Motel. Hunter parked the convertible in front of one of the bungalow rooms. “How long till the van from the lodge arrives?”

Charlie pushed up the sleeve of her denim jacket and looked at her watch. “About an hour. I was supposed to be here by two. It's barely one.”

“What if you hadn't caught a ride with me and missed it?”

She shrugged. “Guess I woulda had a long, cold walk up the mountain. Or eventually caught a ride with someone else.”

He turned towards her. He knew it was fate that they were here at a motel an hour early. He couldn't believe how bad he wanted this. He dug out his wallet and handed her a few bills. “Go get a room.”

She took the money tentatively and looked at him doubtfully.

He stared back her, reading her thoughts in her eyes. She was trying to decide if he was suddenly taking the situation for granted. He wasn't. “You can't stand out here in the cold for an hour.” He said. “You might as well be warm and comfortable while you wait for your ride.”