run for your life

Light was bleeding down the street from the distance, arcing over a hill that Ocean had just crested. Her heart leapt in her chest when she saw the blinding white glow of someone’s high beams, even when it stabbed painfully into her eyes when she spun around to watch the bulky truck slowly peek the incline and grind to a halt on the road right beside her.It was an old grey thing with mud-slicked paint, a plastic-covered trunk (most likely to protect it from the rain), and tailpipes so grey and dirty they bordered on black. The engine purred like a hungry tiger.It was a bit intimidating, to say the least, but Ocean knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, so she straightened herself up and stepped over to the vehicle as someone rolled down the window from within. “You hitchin’?”--People always warn you not to pick up hitchhikers. There should be a warning for not hitchhiking at all, too.--  Day 9: The Very Noisy Night - Caught In a Storm