I held her back. “Running might draw too much attention.”
“Right,” she said, pulling her pace to walk beside me but not dropping my hand. I didn’t let go of hers either. Having her close enough to touch worked as a constant reminder I had her with me.
We needed to get as far away from them as fast as possible. But one guy wearing a dirty pair of jeans and a woman in a scuffed pair of scrubs both looking like they hadn’t showered in days would draw too much attention in the small town. We’d be back in police custody in no time.
The walk was quick, but the twenty minutes seemed like an eternity until we reached the outskirts of town and a two-lane highway headed north. It was risky, but I didn’t see any other options, and as Imogen and I stepped from the tree line to the side of the road, I stuck out my thumb.
“What?” she asked when I chuckled to myself.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
How did I explain to her I had more than enough money to buy the entire town and all the people in it, but here I was standing on the road with my thumb out, trying to hitch a ride? Money really wasn’t the answer to all problems. Life did a number on you sometimes. Two months ago, I’d been planning our next trip to Europe and now I just wanted to get out of the state of Florida. Alive.
A few cars passed before one finally slowed—a big semi that crunched up the gravel as it pulled to the side of the road. The driver jumped out unexpectedly, making his way to the other side of his cab and did something to a back tire.
When he finished kicking the tire, he stood back to stare at it, shaking his head until he finally spoke. “Figured this was a good time to check on Baby’s tire. You two need a ride?”
“Yes,” Imogen answered for me.
The trucker looked to her and then at me, and his eyebrows rose. “Where are you two headed?”
“Anywhere that’s far from here,” I said, taking a step closer.
The trucker shrugged and then held out his hand to shake mine. “Name’s Bird.”
“Cyrus and this is Imogen,” I said, using my head to point toward her.
He nodded once and then pointed to his cab. “Make yourself comfortable in Baby. We’re headed north.”
I waited until he crossed over to the other side of his truck, getting in before I opened the door and helped Imogen into the tall rig. There wasn’t enough strength in the State of Florida to ask why he named his semi Baby.
Behind the two front seats, he had a bed with the comforter thrown about it. I asked Bird and then took a seat on the edge of the bed between the driver and passenger seats.
“Don’t forget your seatbelt,” I said, even though Imogen had already reached for the buckle.
We’d have many things to joke about from this trip from hell, but thinking back to her buckling her seatbelt in a stolen vehicle would always make me smile. I couldn’t do many things to keep her safe, but at least she had that in case of an accident.
The ride was tense for the first few minutes. I hated not being able to see anything good from my position in the middle of the truck, and I sat tensely waiting for sirens and the sounds of the police to come charging after us. Eventually we were far enough out of town, I relaxed and started a conversation.
“Where are you headed?” I asked as a sign for northbound interstate passed by the window.
The driver turned for a fraction of a second to look at me. “I’m stopping at the state line in about an hour and a half. I filled up my log sheet. You’ll either need to find another ride or sleep somewhere else until I’m good to drive again. Damn regulations.”
“Sounds good. How long before you’re back on the road?”
“I’ll be driving again after a short ten-hour mandated break,” he said with a laugh.
By ten hours, I hoped we’d both be well on our way back to Pelican Bay. With a nice mattress underneath us and a shower. “We really appreciate this ride.”
Bird nodded. “My wife says picking up hitchers will get me in trouble one day, but I can’t pass up someone in need of help.”
Imogen smiled at the old man as he ran his fingers through his short beard. My stubble was getting long enough to almost be a start of a beard. “That’s very sweet of you. Few people help others these days,” she said.
“No, the world’s gone mad. My daughter tried to hitchhike her way from Arizona all the way to New York when she was eighteen. Met this loser of a guy online and decided they had to be together. I like to think I’m doing my part to help people when they need a helping hand like my daughter did once.”
“Did it work out for your daughter?” Imogen asked.
He shook his head and his voice turned gruff. “No, he turned out to be an even bigger loser than I realized. She got knocked up and three months later, he left her. I had to buy her a bus ticket to get her home. It’s why I consider it my duty to warn women away from men who get them into trouble.”
