The Next Load

Looking at his computer in annoyance, he touched the screen, opening the message. Reading its contents, he jotted down the information he needed to pick up his load, then closed the message. Figures, he thought, gotta send me someplace I hate going. With a heavy sigh, he went back to his log screen, then settled into his chair, his seat belt clicking into the lock. Putting his truck in gear and pushing in the brake knobs, he eased the truck out of the space he was parked, and finally out of the truck stop. The familiar rumble of the road brought his mind back into focus as he rolled down the highway to a town about 49 miles west of Morris, called La Salle. His directions put him to the shipper, and as he pulled in, he noticed the place was nearly empty, except for a few cars. Changing his log, he hopped out of the truck, and walked up to the shipping office.

Once inside, he grabbed his notebook, all the while looking around. The place was clean, if a bit small. The off white color of the cinder blocks made the place seem a bit dreary, but not enough to deter his mission. Once he was summoned, he stood up, went to the window, gave his information to the shipping clerk, then waited. the clerk typed in his pickup number, and wrote a number down on a piece of paper, giving it to the driver. He told the driver to back in the door number on the paper, and wait for the green light before coming back in for his paperwork.

The driver went back to his truck, and creeped to the assigned door. Keeping his speed under 5 miles an hour would prevent his log from tripping into the drive line, and he back into the dock slowly. Feeling the familiar bump, the made sure he was lined up correctly, then set his brakes. Looking in the mirror, he saw the dock light go red, and the hook lock into his bumper, preventing excessive jolting. About 45 minutes later, the light changed to green, and he eased back to the shipping office. A signature and a seal later, he was back outside, putting the seal on the trailer, walking up to the cab of the truck, and climbing in. A few minutes later, paperwork complete, he released the brakes, and returned to the highway, heading back east.

About an hour later, he reached the outskirts of Chicago, keeping to the I-80 interstate, steadily moving through the traffic. Looking out his driver mirror, he saw what looked to be an older truck moving steadily closer to him. Looking back forward, he saw the sign for the weigh station read "Open." Starting to slow the truck down as he approached, he exited to the weigh station, seeing the other truck start to speed by him. Silently chuckling, he was unprepared for the bullet smashing through the glass. Debris flying everywhere, his first instinct was to hunker down, and steer away from the other truck, which was now roaring away from him. Turning into the weigh station, he realized that there was as a short line of trucks in front of him, and from there was faced with 2 options. One, he could veer left, but that would put him closer to the threat that was before him. Deciding on the latter, he veered right, turning him into the parking area. A stab of the brakes caused the tires to lock up, smoke coming from them as he ground the truck to a stop.

Yanking the brakes, a state trooper car swerved around the front of the ramp and parked in front of his truck, lights flashing. The trooper came out of the car, his pistol drawn, and taking aim at the driver, hollered, "Driver, keep your hands where I can see them!!"

Hands held in midair, the driver hollered back, "Did you see that? That truck just shot at me!!!!"

"Keep your hands up!!!" the officer shouted.

"I am!!!" the driver retorted.

Running around to the driver's side, the trooper ordered, "Roll down your window, and with your right hand open the door!!!"

"Are you kidding me?" the driver shouted as he stuck both hands out of the door where the glass was.

"Open the door with your right hand, now!!!!" The trooper hollered, pointing the gun higher at the driver's head.

Complying, the driver opened the door, then returned with both hands out the window still for the officer to see. The officer yanked open the door, and attempted to pull the driver out with the seat belt still fastened. Realizing this, the trooper yelled, "Driver, unhook your seat belt!!!"

Unhooking his seat belt, he was drug from the cab of his truck, where the ground rushed up to meet him forcefully. His shoulder struck at an odd angle, and he felt a shot of pain in his shoulder as the officer stepped on the back of it, screaming, "Don't resist!!!!"

"You can't be that stupid!" he exclaimed. "I'm not armed, and I was just shot at, yet you want to arrest me?!?!"

"Shut up!" the officer hollered. "You're under arrest for attempted murder!"

"What?!?!?" the driver exclaimed. "I have camera footage showing what happened, you moron!!!!"

Hearing this, the officer stopped, then asked, "What did you just say?"

"I have camera footage of the incident!!!! Maybe if you stopped and paid attention to the whole thing, you'd realize that there's more glass inside my truck than outside on the ground, and I have cameras on my mirrors that will show what happened! Didn't you realize that when you told me to roll the window down, I stuck BOTH hands out the window?!?!?" he nearly shouted.

Blinking, the officer realized the driver's words, and lowered his pistol, his demeanor changing. Holstering his sidearm, his words went from commanding to apologetic. "Oh my God, sir, I'm sorry. I got a call in about two trucks shooting at one another, and saw you peel in here. Training took over from there, and I guess I overreacted. Are you ok?"

"No, you yanked me out of my truck, and I landed on my shoulder, not to mention you stepped on that same shoulder. Is this also part of your training, police brutality?!?!" the driver almost shouted, his anger rising. Trying to get up, his shoulder shot pain into his back, causing him to lose control, and flopping down on the pavement again, the jolt sending more waves of pain through his shoulder. Groaning, the driver rolled over, wincing, as he grabbed his left shoulder. "I think you may need to call an ambulance," was his reply.

"It doesn't look that bad," the officer said. "Maybe we can get some ice on it and it'll start feeling better."

"Seriously, now you trying to cover this up?!?!? Either you call an ambulance, or I will. And while you're at it, call your desk sergeant. This is going to turn out to be a long day for both of us," the driver quipped, as he laid back down.

Sighing, the officer radioed for an ambulance and a supervisor, giving the necessary information. Giving an ETA of 5 minutes for the ambulance, he turned back to the driver. "I have an ambulance on the way, and the supervisor is going to meet you at the hospital. Again, I'm sorry for what happened, and we will process your truck as it sits. You're going to need to get a hold of your dispatch so they can get that load wherever it was going." He turned towards the end of the ramp, as the lines of trucks went rolling by. "We're going to have to shut down the weigh station until everything gets processed. Do you need anything else right now until the ambulance arrives?"

Shaking his head, the driver said, "No, I think we've been through enough today as it is. As a matter of fact, can you call my dispatch and explain the situation? If I try to explain it to him, he'll think I'm full of crap. Hearing it from you will have a different effect on him."

Nodding, the officer said, "Not a problem. It's the least I can do for given what just happened. Don't worry about the shoulder. I'll make sure the doctors get you fixed up good as new."

A couple minutes later, the wail of the siren came into earshot, as the ambulance pulled in and set up right behind the driver. The medics got out, and went over to the officer, who explained the situation to them. Nodding, the lead medic came over and took the driver's vitals while the junior medics got the stretcher. Once he was done, they gently helped him onto the stretcher, and strapped him in. The rear doors closed once the junior medics climbed in, and the last thing the driver saw was his truck sitting in the weigh station, lights flashing all around it.