It was a gray Wednesday afternoon, and the rain had just started to fall over a quiet stretch of Highway 67 in rural Arkansas. The clouds hung low like heavy blankets, and the occasional rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Jacob Reed, a 42-year-old long-haul truck driver, had been on the road for nearly eight hours, hauling a load of industrial supplies toward Fort Smith. Tired but alert, he rolled down the window slightly, letting in the cool damp air.
As he rounded a slight curve near mile marker 124, something unusual caught his eye—a figure standing on the side of the road, waving frantically. As he got closer, Jacob’s brow furrowed. It was a young woman, maybe in her late teens or early twenties, standing right at the edge of the shoulder, partially stepping into the lane. She was soaked from the rain and wore a tattered denim jacket over a sundress. A small backpack lay at her feet.
Jacob slowed down and stopped the truck a few feet ahead of her. He rarely picked up strangers, especially not in remote areas, but something about her desperate expression gave him pause.
She hurried up to the passenger side. He cracked the window.
“Please, I need a ride. Just up the road. It’s an emergency,” she pleaded, her voice shaky and out of breath. “My car broke down, and my phone’s dead. I have to get to my sister—she’s in labor. Please.”
Jacob hesitated. Every instinct told him to say no, to stay safe and keep moving. But she looked scared, and her clothes were soaked. He sighed, unlocked the door, and motioned for her to climb in.
“Where are you headed?” he asked, handing her a towel from behind his seat.
“Next town. Maple Junction. Just 10 miles. My sister’s at the county hospital there,” she said, wiping her face. “Thank you so much. I didn’t know what else to do.”
Jacob nodded, trying not to overthink the situation. He merged back onto the road, keeping his eyes on the wet pavement.
They drove in silence for a few minutes. Jacob occasionally glanced at her. She seemed fidgety, clutching her backpack tightly.
“You okay?” he asked, sensing her nervous energy.
“Yeah. Just… worried,” she replied without looking at him. “Thank you again. Most people wouldn’t have stopped.”
“No problem,” Jacob said, but something in his gut started to twist. The girl kept glancing at the side mirror, as if watching something behind them.
A few seconds later, she blurted, “Can you go faster? I think someone might be following me.”
Jacob looked at her sharply. “What do you mean?”
“I… I lied. I wasn’t waiting for help. I was hiding.” Her voice dropped. “I think he’s still out there.”
Jacob’s stomach dropped. “Who?”
She swallowed hard, her hands trembling. “A man. He picked me up a few miles back, but something about him was off. He kept asking weird questions, locking the doors. I managed to get away when he stopped for gas. I ran into the woods and waited until I thought he was gone. But then I saw his car again, circling. I hid until I saw your truck. I’m sorry I lied, I just… I was scared.”
Jacob’s hands tightened on the wheel. He glanced in the side mirror, and sure enough, a dark sedan appeared in the distance, its headlights slicing through the mist. It was gaining on them.
“Is that him?” Jacob asked.
She nodded, her face pale.
Jacob’s mind raced. He pressed harder on the accelerator, the truck’s engine groaning as they sped up. Rain battered the windshield, wipers working overtime. The sedan closed the gap, weaving back and forth behind them.
“Call 911,” Jacob said, tossing her his phone. But she shook her head, panic rising in her eyes.
“My phone’s dead, remember? And yours—it’s locked.”
Jacob swore under his breath. The sedan pulled into the oncoming lane, trying to overtake them. Jacob blasted the horn, swerving to block its path. The girl shrieked as the sedan clipped the rear of the trailer, skidding on the slick asphalt.
Suddenly, the sedan lurched forward, ramming the truck’s side. Jacob fought to keep control, tires screaming on the wet road. The girl clung to the seat, sobbing.
Up ahead, Jacob spotted the flashing lights of a police cruiser parked on the shoulder. He laid on the horn, flashing his headlights desperately. The sedan, seeing the police, slammed on the brakes and veered off into the trees, disappearing into the shadows.
Jacob pulled over, shaking, as the officer jogged toward them. The girl collapsed in tears, finally safe.
It all happened in less than five minutes. But for Jacob, and for the girl whose name he never even learned, it felt like a lifetime.