Then, a screech of brakes.

The lights dimmed and the large vehicle came to a jarring stop only a few paces ahead of Sarah Beth. She swallowed, staring at where the vehicle had gone still.

A hand waved through the open window, gesturing at her. No sound, no words, just a single flick of the wrist.

Sarah Beth leaned forward, peering up at the face in the cab. “You going to Seattle?” she called out.

Again, no audible response. Just a quick flash of a thumbs-up and another gesture of a beckoning hand, like a flapping bird beneath the glow of the moon.

Sarah Beth hesitated, staring up at the truck and swallowing. A second later, the flapping hand disappeared back into the truck and then a single yellow Post-it note fluttered to the ground, tossed from the window.

Sarah Beth frowned even deeper now. She leaned down hesitantly, eyes firmly on the truck, but fingers scrambling for the note.

She hadn’t heard any scribbling, and in fact, the letters on the note were written in pen, as if perhaps the note had been written before. Was the driver mute?

Sarah Beth held up the note and read, simply: Hop in! followed by a little smiley face. Sarah Beth looked up uneasily, holding the note between her fingertips which now made a crinkling sound similar to the leaves against the concrete barrier. The cold was oppressive, and it was only getting darker.

The roads were more abandoned than she’d first imagined.

Besides, the trucker was smiling now, too, flashing a friendly look from inside the driver’s side. Not mute, but maybe a bit dumb? Sarah Beth could deal with dumb. In fact, she preferred it. People who thought too much gave her anxiety.

“Thanks,” she said, nodding and crumpling the note before placing it back in her pocket. “Honestly, anywhere in the city will do.”

She stepped up to the passenger side and slid into the front seat. She kept her backpack at her feet, just in case she needed to beat a hasty retreat.

“I’m Sarah Beth,” she said, not expecting a reply now. “Nice to meet you! Thanks much. You really saved me there.”

The driver was still smiling beneath a hat with a low brim, shadows across his features. The truck was surprisingly clean, and smelled faintly of air freshener.

For some reason this caused Sarah Beth to relax a bit, her head brushing against the headrest now as the truck churned back to life and began to eat up the gravel road once more. The headlights remained dim as they picked up speed, moving along the highway, heading toward the city.

The driver didn’t talk, didn’t make moves, didn’t try to solicit anything—financial, physical, or otherwise. As far as hitchhiking went, it was starting to look pleasant.

Sarah Beth shot a sidelong glance at her temporary chauffeur. She frowned a second later, noticing a thin trail of scar tissue around the fellow’s wrist, just beneath his jacket sleeve.