Big Bill's Message
Even though our connection was brief, the name 'Big Bill' somehow felt familiar. But I couldn't respond rashly.
The post was requesting a PM to Gunner, Tank, and me—Lee Chan, the one they meant by C.
I thought it might be a trap.
I wondered if Bill had been captured by one of those Road Warrior raider groups and forced to post it under duress. Then I grabbed the radio.
[Gunner, come to my trailer.]
[Got it. On my way.]
After a while, Gunner entered the trailer and asked, “What’s up?”
“Bill left a post on Reddit.”
“Big Bill?”
Gunner asked in surprise, and without a word, handed him the laptop screen. Gunner began reading the post aloud.
【Title: Big Bill to C, who owes me from Twin Falls. Contact me. / BigBill_Hauling】
Everyone, I don’t know if you’re all holding up fine on this cursed highway. I sometimes hear rumors about C on the CB.
No beating around the bush.
Right now, I’m carrying a special cargo GL, and it’s not looking good at all.
Gunner, do you remember when I said to you “If I were a Marine, I’d be in the brig” when you saw my truck tires in Mountain Home with Tank?
Gunner, I don’t know if you met up with friends, I’m down there too.
If you see this post, please contact via PM. Just in case, I won’t write my location here. Drive safe everyone.
Gunner read it and nodded, “This must be Bill’s writing.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Look. A cautious friend wouldn’t write ‘Polar Bear’ outright but ‘C from Twin Falls’. He was aware of Road Warriors. And decisively…”
Gunner pointed to a part on the screen.
“‘If I were a Marine, I’d be in the brig’—that’s the line I said to Bill and Tank right before they changed truck tires in Mountain Home. It was a joke only to the two of them.”
With that, I finally felt at ease.
“So, what do you think happened? And what does ‘special cargo GL’ mean?”
“Special cargo is just what Bill said… probably, he ran into a Ghost Load.”
“Ghost Load?”
“Slang for freight that’s stranded or ownerless due to various reasons.”
“What does ‘ownerless’ mean?”
“It gets long to explain. Even in peacetime, cargo can be rejected due to shipper’s circumstances or simple errors.”
“…”
“At that time, truckers would officially report and follow procedures for the type of cargo, but in some cases, they would dispose of it themselves.”
“Is that possible? In Canada, unimaginable.”
My doubt made Gunner chuckle.
“You’re always thinking of standard grain in Canada. Here in the south, all sorts of weird cargo moves. Anyway, Big Bill somehow secured a full load that he can’t handle alone.”
“Then… what should we do?”
Without hesitation, Gunner replied, “Bill isn’t the type to lie or put comrades in danger. First, let’s meet him. From the post, he seems to be somewhere in California.”
Gunner added that when they last met, he told Bill he was going south and would join if he met Polar Bear.
Now I understood why Bill was looking for us. I started writing a PM to Bill on the laptop.
I didn’t reveal our exact location. Instead, I told him roughly our route: heading north on CA-99, then east on US-50 across the continent. And finally added,
“If you need to use CB channel, address me as QD.”
After sending the message, Gunner said, “Since we’re meeting, we should meet before entering Nevada.”
“From Bill leaving the Reddit message, it means he’s in a safe place with internet. No need to rush.”
To my words, Gunner said “If it’s fate, we’ll meet” and went back to his room. I stroked Wolf’s head lying at my feet and asked out of the blue,
“Should be good news, right?”
Wolf, as if reading my mind, barked “woof!” strongly. A positive signal.
Perhaps the hope that Bill had secured more food or weapons than we imagined flickered.
Then night passed, and early morning of the next day.
We started the daily routine earlier than usual. Also for Wolf, who would be in the truck for a long time during the long journey.
After the walk, people woke up one by one and prepared to depart from their positions. Finally, in front of the farm, the heavy rumble of diesel engines broke the morning silence as the great column set out towards survival.
At the front was Gunner’s F-550 with V-plow bumper, looking like a monster crushing the way, leading the exit.
Behind it, Jake’s huge bus motorhome was close. And the bus looked different after days.
Iron plates added to the bus roof railing acting as balcony, sandbags stacked. A makeshift firing position on the roof deck.
Next, Jed’s 3000-gallon tanker truck revealed its heavy body.
Then, behind it, Jed’s eldest son Luke’s 5-ton cargo truck with chicken trailer connected, and faint chicken clucks from inside gave a strange feeling.
Then Raven’s camper, Dave and Frank’s pickup and caravan, and Mike’s son Damon’s minivan followed.
At the very end, I sat in the high seat of the Kenworth W990, looking back at the nine-car convoy of comrades.
Reports from the convoy started coming in on the radio.
[Lead, Gunner. Ready. Can depart anytime.]
[Tanker and cargo vehicles, loaded. Over.]
[Oh, finally going! Camper ready too!]
Finally, Mike next to me nodded, grabbed the radio.
[This is Polar Bear. As soon as Jake returns, we depart immediately. Each vehicle wait in current position.]
After a while, a small dot appeared in the distant south sky, then approached in the familiar Robinson helicopter shape.
The helicopter landed softly on one side of the farm courtyard, and Jake’s voice from the cockpit came over radio.
[OP, Jake. No issues near Fresno. Traffic smooth. Over.]
[Good work.]
I answered briefly, Jake continued.
[After passing Selma, there’s a spot with wide highway shoulder. Good to join there.]
[Understood. Please handle the rear.]
After the last transmission, I directed departure towards the lead.
[Lead to follow sequentially.]
Gunner’s F-550 exited the farm exit with heavy engine roar, followed by our great convoy finally moving towards the asphalt road.
Through the rearview mirror, Jake’s busy figure was visible. He was quickly refueling the landed helicopter, then climbed onto the wheel loader to prepare to block the entrance.
Once all vehicles were on the road, instead of lingering regret at leaving the farm, I felt a strange sense of anticipation and excitement.
The endless asphalt, the road vibrations transmitted through the steering wheel, and the monotonous engine rumble. I was originally a trucker. Standing on the road, I felt an inexplicable sense of liberation.
So our convoy headed north on the 99 road through the heart of Central Valley.
A strange sense of déjà vu in this situation where we had been rushing south for survival and now heading north again.
At the same time, looking out the window at the endless golden plains and vast farms, a pang of regret that we had to turn our backs on this fertile land settled in one corner.
While driving on the road for a while, the sound of helicopter rotors came from above. Jake’s transmission.
[Commander, now passing over the convoy. Everyone looks cool!]
[Haha, Jake. From above, we look even cooler?]
To Dave’s cheerful voice, Jake answered with a laugh.
[Big bro Dave, like a tank army. Haha. I’ll go ahead to the meeting place and wait. Over.]
The helicopter circled once over our convoy, then sped up and disappeared into the front view.
While idly gripping the wheel and watching the road again, a transmission searching for me came with crackling noise on the CB radio.
[Breaker 1-9, Breaker 1-9. Is QD listening? This is Big Bill. QD, if listening, respond. Over.]
With a warm feeling, I immediately grabbed the mike.
[10-4, Big Bill. This is QD, reception good. Over.]
Then Gunner’s transmission followed immediately.
[Bill, this is Gunner. Glad you’re safe too.]
After a while, Bill’s voice mixed with relief and joy boomed from the speaker.
[Haa-! Both of you were together. Really fortunate. I’m moving north of Bakersfield now. Over.]
“Bill was this close?”
[Big Bill, this is QD. We’re also moving on the route you told us. Can you find us?]
[If on the road, can’t miss. Please slow down a bit. Ah, and Tank is with me too.]
[Gunner. Tank’s tank too?]
[Yes.]
“Tank’s tank?”
I tilted my head at Gunner’s unknown question. Bill sent another transmission to confirm the promise.
[You’ll see it soon, Gunner. Then, see you soon. Big Bill, comms end.]
The CB radio fell silent. I looked back at our long convoy ahead.
Just a few hours after leaving the farm, various variables began to emerge like fog. What was waiting at the end of this road was uncertain.