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By the time she had run the mile and a half to the low bridge over U. She had to take the chance and ran to the middle of the highway and waved her arms in wide arcs.

The long blast of an air horn from the looming made her want to run but she stood waving her arms more violently.

He thought of his daughter who had been killed in an auto accident and was both repulsed and moved by this girl’s claims of being raped.

After he got over the fright of almost hitting the girl he was moved by the intensity of her pleas.

Thankful that he had picked her up Corrie was still amazed that his semi-truck tractor, a Freightliner Cascadia, could be so spacious and luxurious.

It had both lower and top bunks, a fold down desk with a computer and, though there were no toilet facilities it still seemed to her like they were in a traveling palace.

It was cold but not freezing and she only had access to the sweater she had been wearing since the Seeders took her from her home two days ago. Two headlights pierced the darkness as the noise of a heavy vehicle grew more distinct.

Bursts of white steam exploded from her mouth as she ran toward the highway. “Dear Lord,” she whispered, “Let it be one of those big trucks.” As it neared she saw that it was a semi pulling a forty foot trailer.

Even though they had driven hundreds of miles and were even in a different state she still feared that the cult would catch up with them.

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