Overhaulin'

Is this a good short story?

I don't think it will take it all at once, so I'll post it piece by piece if I need to. As a trucker, you have to be ready for almost any size load, at any time of day (or night), and any driving length, depending on who you work for. As I crawled from my bed at 2 in the morning, I wondered what ever made me want this job. I found some jeans, put them on, and dug a shirt out of the dryer. I grabbed a jacket, and headed to the pickup. I started it. I put my Classic Country CD set in my jacket pocket, and turned on the heater. I put the truck in first, and took off. I pulled up to the parking lot where my rig was, about 10 blocks from my trailer house, and parked. I looked at the huge load of appliances that was in the trailer, and walked over to the rig. I hopped in, and got everything ready. As I took off, I put a CD in. I skipped to track two. Hello Walls came on. I turned up the volume, and drove off. It went on to Welcome to my World, then Sea of Heartbreak, and Abilene, Detroit City, then Six Days on the Road. I cranked up the volume, and before I knew it I was singin’ along, happy as could be for someone who woke up at 2 AM. Then it went on throughout the tracks, and after it played El Paso, I took it out and went on to the next CD. After several CDs, and a few rest stops on the highway that I don’t remember driving onto, it was 5 in the mornin.’ I checked at how much further I had to go, and I was about three hours in to a 24 hour(without resting time) trip. I was to drop off these appliances at a Sears, and then go get some kind of pipes to take to a construction company in Texas. I pulled over at a Love’s, and got some cappuccino. I never got over my dislike of coffee, so I drink this stuff. It keeps me awake, right? I put the humongous Styrofoam cup into the cup holder and turned on the radio. Nothin’ good. I turned it off. I drove up to a scale. Everything went well, and I was sent on my way. I had a relative waiting for me in California, and he was gonna come along on the way home. He had rented an apartment, and had no furniture of his own, and recently got evicted because the landowner sold the building, and they were makin’ it into an office or somethin.’ I took a gulp from my cappuccino, and continued driving. I finished the huge cup within an hour. One thing about cappuccino, though, it makes you pee. Quickly. After being in the rest stop for 5 minutes, I came out. I hopped in the truck and drove off. It was noon, and I was starvin.’ I went to the nearest Burger King, but passed about 10 different McDonalds on the way there. Everyone knows they do not serve actual food at McDonalds. Five PM. Sleepiness was setting in, but I couldn’t stop or else I would not be able to get there on time. I picked up my emergency air horn (the kind they have at Wal-Mart that you carry around when hiking, etc.) and pointed it towards the passenger seat. I pressed the button. Now I was awake. Ten PM. After 32 air horn blasts, 6 rest stops, and two fast food places, I was almost there. So, I pulled into another rest area, covered my windows, and went into my sleeper. I laid on the bed, turned on the TV, and set it to turn off in two hours. I watched the monologue of Jay Leno, and dosed off about 5 minutes after the guest came on. My wind up alarm clock buzzed a good loud ring, and woke me up. It was 6, so I ate some Pop-Tarts, and hit the road. They’re supposed to be there by noon, so I was hurryin’ up to get there. After four hours, I made it there. I still had about two hours left, so I sat there watchin’ TV, and I relaxed and kicked back. We got the appliances unloaded. We, as in me working, and about 5 Sears employees sittin’ on the loading bay sayin’ they didn’t like the way I moved the stove. I hollered, “Well get up off your rear, and get over here!” “Right away, Captain Seuss!” He retorted. None of them moved. So anyway, after an hour of unloading a trailer full of large appliances by myself, I went to my cousin’s apartment. Sam opened the door. “You ready to help move pipes?” “Yeah,” he said. He was about 5’7, maybe 20 years old, wearing a medium blue t-shirt and blue jeans. He was kinda skinny, with short, black hair. He picked up a black duffel bag and came out. We headed for the truck and he tells me of the plans they had for the building. We hopped in, and I said, “Well, I got you a house real cheap. It has wheels, though.” “That’s ok,” he said, “As long as it’s a house.” There were no cars in the parking lot except my rig and a red Chevy Cavalier, with several dents in it, and faded paint. Rust covered parts of the hood and roof. I pulled out onto the street, looking at the huge buildings, billboards and palm trees. I pulled up onto the highway, and accelerated to about 80 mph. I held this speed. At about 5 PM, there were no cars on the highway. I pulled over at a rest stop. After I finished, I came out and sat in the truck to wait for Sam to come out. I noticed the Cavalier nearby, and thought it was odd. I picked up my binoculars, and read the plate. 5J7 814. I wrote it down. Sam came out, and got in the truck. I gave him the plate number. “What’s this, Joe?” “It’s a plate number. See that car?” “Yeah,” he answered. “Well it was in the parking lot of your old apartment when we left.” “Yeah, I kinda remember seeing it.” “Well,” I said, “Let’s go.” I pulled out of the lot and went on the highway. The car followed. I changed lanes. So did it. I thought about calling the police, but what would they do? At 10 PM, after several worried conversations between us, the car pulled up beside us. The window rolled down, and something poked out of it. Before I could do anything, I felt a sharp pain in my leg. A tire blew, and the truck flew over to the left, and smashed into the Cavalier. It flew over the guardrail, and flipped into the other side of the highway. The truck swerved over to the right as both me and Sam tried to hold the steering wheel. As I attempted to stop the truck, it flew into the right guardrail. It went over, and started to tip. Glass broke everywhere, and I felt a pain in my other leg. I fell toward the passenger door, and slammed against Sam, and then the both of us flew toward the roof. I attempted to stop my head from hitting. I fell toward the driver door, and everything went black. I woke up to Sam nudging me. It had been only one minute. Something about the truck seemed weird to me. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Everything was upside down. “Are you ok?” He asked. “I don’t know. Let’s call for help.” I saw blood on me and Sam. I tried to move. I reached for the CB. It was gone. I looked over to my right. It laid there, smashed to pieces. I reached for my cell phone. I opened it, and the screen was smashed. I thought it might still work. I dialed 911. No response from the phone. “Hey, you got a phone?” I asked. “Yeah,” he said. “It’s gone!” I pushed on the door. It didn’t open. I could hardly see, so for all I know that could’ve been the dashboard. I reached for a light. The cover was broken, but I found the button was intact. I pushed it. The small light illuminated the cab. I found the door. I pushed on it. It still wouldn’t move. I turned around in the crushed in cab and kicked at the door. It popped open with a good bit of resistance. I looked at Sam. He had a broken nose, and was pretty much fine except for that and a few scratches. I had been shot, and had hit my leg on the shifter when I fell. I crawled out of the cab, and helped Sam out. We looked around. The pipes were everywhere, and the rig’s roof had been crushed under the bottom half of the truck. The rig was crushed to about 3 feet tall. I lifted my pants leg up, and looked at my gunshot wound. The bullet had just barely scraped the skin of my leg. I stood. I climbed up the embankment, where the grass was torn up, and saw the highway. The little car sat there, 40 feet from me, flipped over, caved in, and generally destroyed. There were several small packages all around it. I pulled Sam up. I still had the plate number in my pocket. We walked over to the little car, and grabbed the gun from the hands of the passenger. I made sure to leave no fingerprints on it by using a clean spot of my shirt. . I threw the gun across the highway, into the ditch we just crawled from. I attempted to take the pulse from the passenger. Barely anything. I pulled him out of the car, and checked his wounds. He had cuts all over him, and his arm was bent at an odd angle. His face was cut badly. I shook him. He started to groan. “HEY!” I yelled. “You ok?” No response. I searched the car for a phone. There wasn’t one. Sam and I walked around to the driver. His side of the car was caved in the most. I found a crowbar lying a few feet from the car, near the rear, and pried the door open with it. I looked at the driver. He was badly cut, with several broken bones. I looked up at his face. Right above his left eye was a hole. He’d been shot. I heard a loud pop from the distance, and blood spattered up into my face. Me and Sam ran over to the ditch we crawled from, and I grabbed the AK-47. I looked around. I didn’t see anyone. I heard several more shots, and 7 people emerged from the ditch across the highway. They ran across the highway firing the biggest rifles I had ever seen. And they were firing at the car. They stormed it, stealing everything of value. Then they got a package from around the car. They squeezed it, and it shaped. They opened it, and it appeared to be Play-Doh. Then they took all of the packages, and took them back to where they were hiding. One of them did something to the first one, and then ran. He seemed to be laying some kind of wire behind him. They got down into the ditch, and the car exploded. I was terrified. I looked around. There was a blue Ford Explorer pulling out of the ditch. I heard them yelling. “HURRY UP!!” One said. “The truck won’t start!” “Screw the truck! Put the C4 in here and come on!” They loaded up the Explorer with all the packages they found, and sped off. When I didn’t see or hear them, we ran across the highway. There was no question- the occupants of the car were dead. We ran into the ditch, and saw a white two door Ford Explorer. We got in. Sure enough, it wouldn’t even try to start. I popped the hood. I looked around at the engine, and immediately found the problem. The battery terminal had come loose and got knocked off the battery. I plugged it back in, and we started the truck. I drove it out of the ditch, and we went on in silence. I noted the nearest mile marker, and we found an exit ramp. I went into the closest police station I found, and told them the whole story. “Well,” the officer at the front desk said, “We don’t like practical jokers around here. Now just because I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you go.” “I’m not joking!!!” I yelled. “GO HOME, PUNKS!” the officer yelled. “I’m not lying!” I paid mine and Sam’s bail, and we left the police station. I conveniently left out where we parked, so we still had a vehicle. We drove down the highway at top speed, and soon we caught up to the blue SUV. We kept our distance, and I noted the plate number. I stayed behind them, and after an hour, they pulled off the highway. They drove up to an old building, and parked. They all got out, and I turned off the road a block behind them so they wouldn’t see their truck that we were driving. I went around that block, where I could see them, and pulled over. It was 11 at night. I was wide awake. They walked out of the building, and a garage door opened. They drove the Explorer in, and they came out driving a black GMC Yukon. We followed them. I asked Sam to check the clip in the AK-47. He said it was almost full. He started to look around in the truck. In the glove box he found the title to the truck, the insurance, a cell phone, the owner’s manual, and a bunch of bullets for the AK, and some shotgun bullets, and bullets for a 9mm pistol. After looking around more, three 9mm pistols were located. I took one, and the AK, and Sam took the other two. Sam got the phone. I wrote down the number, and put it in my pocket. We followed the SUV to another building just a couple blocks down the street. I pulled over and they sat for a while. They jumped out, and got some of the C4. They jammed it into a crack in the sidewalk. They put some in the front window frames, and they put some in the truck. That’s not good at all. They wired it up to a timer, and hid the timer in the truck. They got into a taxi, and left. Sam took the truck and followed. . I ran over, found the timer. Ten minutes. I took all the C4 and put it in the truck, and drove it away, mindin’ the timer. I took it to a deserted place, far from the buildings, and parked it. I ran. I found a phone, and called Sam. He gave me the address that they were at, a house this time, and I told him that I moved the truck. Right after I got off the phone, the truck blew up. And blow up it did. It shot a door about 4 blocks, but did not hurt anyone. I ran. Four blocks away, I called a taxi. I went to the address, and found our Explorer. Sam was there, and said they were in a house just up the street. We drove over, and got all our guns. I called the police, and told them the whole story. It turns out that these people have been on the loose for years, and are responsible for numerous murders, bombings, and several hundred unpaid parking tickets. I told them where we’d be, and asked for a little reward in helping them find these fugitives. I told them we would help out in the raid, but they refused. Ten minutes later, S.W.A.T. pulled up in an armored van. They raided the house, and came out with every one of the fugitives. Once they were locked up, I discussed my reward with the S.W.A.T. As me and Sam drove off in our 1998 Ford Explorer, with our new pistols (they can’t let us have assault weapons), and our $10,000 reward, and we drove home. Me and Sam split the cash 50/50. I fixed up my mobile home, paid my hospital bills, and got a different job. Well, that was it. I guess it's not a short story, I have to admit it's not one of my best. I got an idea, and then lost it. It was hard to come up with the rest of the story. I'm not good with descriptions, either.

Public Comments

1. No. You're a terrible writer and a cruel person. People like you deserve to be hurt. Really badly.
2. Sorry, I refuse to read a short story that effing long.
3. needs a little work the action romace and more
4. thats like a book!!!! i thought it was ok but i'v read much better u have a ways to go
5. i don't have the attention span to read this....so you might be asking why even make an answer? well.... I'm fuc*ing bored D: :(
6. honestly i only read bits and peices. it is too long, story isnt bad but your writing needs improvement. instead of the whole story being i woke up i got jeans i did this i did that...yadda yadda..try capturing the feel of the environment with out describing it so obviously. it makes the reading feel choppy and not fluid or intriguing. you want to capture a mood, dont just describe a scene. dont give up...keep trucking! lol!
7. You are not going to get any quality answers on this website. Trust me. It didn't really keep my attention, but I have the attention span of a soy burger. Most of your sentences sound similar with their "subject verb" beginnings. You could try spicing some of your sentences up.
8. When you write a short story try to have a point, in other words you have written a story that goes around in circles using repetitive words.Remember a short story is like building a matchstick house, only put in certain details and leave the rest up to the readers imagination. Overall i would grade your short story at a -D.