The Truck Driver

A Scream for Tank

Tank continued driving through South Dakota as it was nearing midnight. He was 15 minutes out from a rest stop. He was tired and figured they would shower in the morning. Kayla still laid her head on the window as she slept in the passenger seat, however, her once peaceful dream of her harvesting vegetables on the land in Decatur shifted to a nightmare.

Kayla was back in Decatur, standing barefoot in the rich, sun-warmed soil of the vast Carter's garden. The land stretched wide, green and thriving, just like the farm her great-grandmother used to tend to. She knelt down, her fingers gently brushing against the ripe tomatoes hanging from their vines, the scent of fresh earth and morning dew filling her senses. The sun beamed down on her skin, wrapping her in warmth, and she smiled as she reached for a woven basket to collect the vegetables.

She could hear the faint sound of Tank's laughter in the distance, deep and smooth, calling her name. She turned, eager to run toward him, but suddenly, the warmth drained from the air. The sunlight dimmed, and the once vibrant green fields turned a lifeless gray.

A heavy fog rolled in, creeping over the land like fingers stretching toward her. The sound of crickets and birds vanished, replaced by a low, menacing hum in the air. Kayla's breath hitched. The basket in her hand crumbled to dust, slipping through her fingers like sand.

Then she felt it—an ominous presence behind her.

A deep voice, low and filled with authority, slithered through the silence.

"You thought you could run from me?"

Her body went rigid. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to move, to run, but she was frozen. Slowly, she turned her head, her stomach twisting into knots.

Vince stood there, looming over her like a shadow that stretched for miles. His face was carved in anger, eyes dark and cold. The gold chain around his thick neck glinted under the dim, eerie light. His mouth curled into a twisted smirk.

"Where you think you goin', girl?" he drawled, his tone laced with something sinister.

Kayla's heart pounded. She turned fully, taking slow, cautious steps backward. The earth beneath her feet cracked like glass.

"Tank!" she screamed, her voice barely more than a whisper, lost in the thick, suffocating fog. She tried again, louder this time. "Tank!"

She could hear him, but his voice was distant, distorted, like he was calling to her from another world.

She turned to run, but Vince's large hand shot out, gripping her wrist in a vice-like hold. The pressure was unbearable, like her bones were about to snap.

"You ain't goin' nowhere."

Kayla thrashed, yanking at his grip, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The more she fought, the tighter his hold became, his fingers digging into her skin.

"You think that trucker boy can keep you safe? You think you belong to him?" Vince sneered, jerking her closer. His breath was hot against her ear, his voice dripping with mockery. "Nah, you'll always be under me."

Kayla's stomach dropped as she struggled harder, her free hand clawing at his grip, but it was like fighting against steel.

Then, in a flash, he yanked her forward, pulling her straight into the darkness. The world around her crumbled, the last thing she saw being his twisted smirk and the cruel glint in his eyes as he dragged her back into the nightmare she thought she had escaped.

Kayla let out a blood-curdling scream.

And that was when Kayla woke up screaming.

Tank, who was just parking the truck at the rest stop, damn near jumped out his seat. His hands left the wheel as he reached for her. "Kayla!" His voice was sharp, filled with concern.