Redemption

By J. E. Friend

Join Redemption and follow a serial killer that leaves murdered truck drivers across Canada. Meet a variety of characters including Maggie a spunky young truck driver, Colby the detective hunting for the killer, Ryan a family man who travels the highways, Noelle the 'working girl' who hangs around truck stops, Frank the grizzled veteran driver a

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dark Cellar Publications
• Release date: Sep 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9781999119232

Book preview

1

MAGGIE

Twenty Years Later

The crisp salt air whipped Maggie’s hair across her face as she gazed out at the Strait of Georgia. She tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears, slipped her ball cap on her head and lowered her sunglasses to shield her eyes from the sun’s glare as the city of Vancouver loomed in the distance. She had her feet planted firmly on the ferry’s deck, as she grasped onto the railing and leaned forward to gaze into the swirling depths of the Salish Sea. The trip from Victoria to Vancouver was a short one.

Passengers had just enough time to enjoy a meal and stretch their legs before the ferry docked again. There were two places to eat on board: the cafeteria, which was never Maggie’s first choice, and a restaurant which served an excellent hot buffet. Her preference was always the buffet, as it offered a wide selection of food choices. Maggie could’ve taken the ferry from Nanaimo to Vancouver, which was closer to where she delivered on the island, but decided against it because she wanted to eat a hot meal that didn’t come out of a microwave. There were few luxuries available on the road. As it was, she ate a lot of microwaved meals and felt she deserved something fresh once in a while. Of course, what she needed more than anything was a nap and a shower, but that would have to wait until she was on the mainland and parked for the night.

There were strict rules that passengers weren’t able to remain in their vehicles and there wasn’t anywhere else available where patrons could lie down and rest. She could lean back in a seat in one of the waiting areas, which she tried once, but all she got from that was a stiff neck, so instead she ate and walked the deck for exercise. When the boat anchored, at least, she didn’t have far to drive before she could park for the night.

Maggie saw the dock looming in the distance when the PA system chimed, and the intercom broke the silence with a crackle, announcing that passengers could begin making their way back to their vehicles and prepare for docking. She smiled to herself, bent over, grabbed her bag, and slung it over her shoulder before heading back inside to the stairwell. Then she began the descent into the belly of the ship where the vehicle’s hold was located. Her cowboy boots rang out with each step she took, echoing in the narrow stairwell. The sound of engines starting and the smell of exhaust assaulted her senses as she passed each set of doors leading to the different levels of the vehicle hold on her way down.

When she reached her level, she stepped out and made her way between the rows of parked cars, motorcycles, campers and transport trucks, before coming to hers. Big Red, as she liked to call her rig, was a metallic, candy apple red Kenworth 660. She circled the truck to do a quick visual inspection, including checking the kingpin to ensure that no one had messed with her fifth wheel lock, and then climbed up into her cab. She kicked off her boots, tucked them in the small space behind her seat before she slipped into her moccasins. It may be a truck, but it was also her home when she was on the road. Living in a small space meant she did everything she could to keep it clean. She went into the back and stowed her bag, then grabbed a Red Bull from the mini-fridge. She was dying for a cigarette, but she wouldn’t light up in the boat’s hull. Instead, she’d wait until they docked. In anticipation, she took one from the package and slipped it behind her ear.

The procedure for disembarking from the ship was straightforward but tedious. Members of the ship’s personnel stood at the front and directed each vehicle when it was time to move forward and depart. The vehicles moved in a slow, steady stream, but the process was time-consuming. She’d parked her truck at the halfway point in the hold and waited to move forward.

When her turn came, she maneuvered her rig out of the hold and onto dry land, following the slow-moving line of vehicles ahead. Once she was away from the dock, she rolled down her window and lit her cigarette. Inhaling deeply on the first drag, keeping it clenched between her lips, smoke curling into her eyes, she continued to wheel her way out of the port.

Maggie noted the time on the dash clock and breathed a sigh of relief; she missed the rush-hour traffic. She had little time remaining on her day, and she needed to make it to her destination before the clock ran out. An accident on the highway would mess up her schedule, but the snarl of rush hour traffic could be worse.

She continued onto Highway 1 as she headed to Chilliwack. It would have been easier to stay on the island and wait to pick up her load, but there was little truck parking available. So, she had offloaded the Audis at the Motorsports in Duncan and returned to the mainland. Now she had three days to sit and wait before she could return to the island. In Chilliwack, at least there was plenty to do, and the Husky was within walking distance of pretty much everything.

As a long-haul trucker, Maggie travelled from coast to coast many times. One thing was for sure, Canada was a beautiful country, but with the majestic mountain range it was hard not to appreciate BC. Still, it always disappointed her at the sharp contrast between the rich and the poor in Canada’s warmest coastal region. She looked around and observed the trash that littered the highway between Vancouver and Chilliwack. Small shanties of homeless people spotted the wooded areas just off the road, impromptu lean-to’s and tents dotted the landscape. It was a sad sight.

But Vancouver’s central core was often worse. Downtown, long lines of downtrodden waited at soup kitchens and halfway houses for help. Nearby the convention centre, where displays of opulence contrasted the harsh reality outside. She understood why so many homeless people migrated here. On average, it was warmer in the winter than anywhere else in Canada. It was unfortunate the government couldn’t do more for them. But the high cost of living here made it difficult to survive unless you had a good-paying job.

Maggie watched as the majestic mountain range loomed in the distance. She loved the snow-capped peaks, even at the height of summer. Maggie passed an excessive amount of rubbish in the median. She wondered to herself if the West Coast had a disrespect for their environment or if the higher homeless rate caused so much discarded trash. It was then that she noticed a car ahead of her that swerved in and out of his lane. She slowed down to give him more room and avoid getting into a collision. She tried to determine why he was driving in such an erratic manner, and watched in horror as the driver leaned into the back of his car and reached for something. His vehicle slid to the right edge of the lane as he did. He popped his head up and straightened the wheel. Then he threw a pile of garbage out onto the highway. He repeated this several times as handful after handful of trash landed on the pavement, tumbling along the roadway and collecting on the grassy knolls on either side.

Maggie shook her head in disbelief. She checked his license plate and discovered it was from BC. She guessed the trashy roadside was a mixture of the homeless population and a disregard for nature and decency.

Up ahead, the exit sign for Chilliwack came into view. Maggie looked down at the time remaining on her day and breathed a small sigh of relief. Then she signalled her exit and pulled off the highway, making her way to the Husky Truck-stop.

Maggie wheeled her rig along the back row and found a spot in the lot’s far rear corner. She preferred to park in the back of the lot. It forced her to walk further to the washrooms and gave her some much-needed exercise after spending 13 hours behind the wheel. Plus, it was quieter, with less traffic. She found that most truckers wanted the spots closest to the bathrooms and diner, so those spots filled up first.

Soon, the others from the tour would arrive. At this point in the day, they’d find themselves parked all over the lot, but tomorrow, when the lot emptied, they’d move their rigs around in order to congregate together. That way, they could enjoy some friendly conversation and a little atypical tailgating. If the weather held out, they would socialize and BBQ in between the rigs. If not, they’d make use of one of the empty trailers.

She checked her mirrors before she backed into her spot and pulled the brake. Then she completed her driver’s log, signed off, and began her reset. Not that long ago, drivers still used paper logs to record the day’s miles. They took longer to complete, were easy to alter, so she guessed that was one advantage of the Electronic Log Devices or ELDs. She shut down her truck and grabbed the garbage bag from between her seats to dump in the bin on her way to the building. It was time for a walk to stretch her legs before she showered.

She looked up and noticed that the sky was overcast, but the weather was still pleasant as she made her way to the garbage bin. Maggie saw that there was a pile of bags just outside of the bin on the ground, but they didn’t contain trash. Truckers left returnable bottles and cans for the homeless man, who came daily to collect them. It saved him from tearing apart garbage bags in the bin to search for items. She reached up to lift the top of the waste bin. As she did, the rancid odour of rotting food permeated the air. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she threw her trash in and let the lid slam shut, wiping her hands on her jeans in case she touched anything. She’d stop in the washroom and wash her hands before her walk.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie caught sight of Noelle, a regular visitor to this truck stop. Anyone who’d ever been here knew who Noelle was. She rode past Maggie on her bicycle, her typical mode of transportation. Noelle was the local lot lizard, a trucker’s term for a prostitute. As Noelle rode by, she bounced her bottom up and down in the air. It was her way to entice lonely truck drivers to ask for her ‘company’.

As a constant fixture, she came by daily to provide company to any drivers who asked. She made her way from truck to truck, always beginning at the supper hour. When she found someone interested, she’d leave her bicycle fastened to the vehicle she was in.

Maggie gave Noelle a quick nod and continued on her walk. She knew Noelle would stay clear of where she parked. What Noelle did for a living was her own choice. It wouldn’t have been Maggie’s, but she didn’t care how Noelle earned her money as long as she kept her distance.

While on her walk, she stopped at the local butcher’s for some fresh meat for supper. On her way back, she saw the others from the tour had turned into the lot. Time to get the BBQ going. She planned to feed the masses tonight, masses of fellow co-drivers, that was.

2

NOELLE

Noelle rode her bicycle into the parking lot of The Husky truck stop. The first person her eyes fell on was Maggie, and she cursed under her breath. Maggie was about 50 feet away, tossing her trash in the garbage bins. Noelle had nothing against Maggie, but her presence at The Husky could put a hindrance on her earning ability. Noelle noticed Maggie hesitated, then nodded to her before she walked away. She nodded back, but stayed clear and made her way along the first row of trucks. She made a mental note to avoid the rear corner where she knew she’d find the red Kenworth belonging to Maggie, well aware of Maggie’s preference in the back