It wasn't the lifestyle she had imagined when she ran off from home seven years ago. It was not glamorous. It wasn't very profitable. But she was damn good at it. In seven years of living in truck stops, she had learned a thing or two. After four years of giving the truckers some "commercial company" for cash and/or a ride to the next town, she eventually figured out how easy it was to lift a drivers wallet while they had their pants off. She started hooking drivers in and making off with their money. Soon she discovered she could actually use their credit cards a time or two as long as she kept moving. She wasn't proud of what she had become, but she had to survive the only way she knew how.<br/><br/>This particular night started like any other night. She had accompanied a driver to his Freightliner. It was like a rolling condo in his sleeper. She gave him sex. Afterwards, like most men, he collapsed on the bunk beside her. She laid quietly beside him waiting to see if he would doze off, which he did. Men are so predictable. So far so good.<br/><br/>She slipped out of the bunk and into her jeans. She never took off her shirt unless the driver insisted.  Then she slipped on her dingy white sneakers. A glance told her he was asleep.  She picked up his jeans from the floor of the truck. They seemed heavier than normal. She felt something big in the front pocket. She reached her hand in, and pulled out a .22 automatic!<br/><br/>Jodi was an "Army Brat" and no stranger to guns. She had never actually fired one, but she was familiar enough with them. She figured this one would land her a quick twenty five bucks. As she was digging the drivers wallet from the hip pocket, she heard him stir. As she looked up, he was staring right at her. "You filthy BITCH!" He yelled as he lunged at her, stark naked. Thats when things got blurry.<br/><br/>It all seemed to happen in slow motion, yet it was over in a heartbeat. She heard the shot. She saw him double over onto the floor, flailing and screaming. It took her an eternity to realize she had just shot the man as he lunged towards her. She panicked. She grabbed her little brown suede purse and climbed down out of the truck. She was in the middle of a huge parking lot full of noisy trucks. She ran between two trucks, the length of the 53 foot trailer. She slipped behind the trailers that were lined all the way down the lot.  She stopped for a moment to think. Then she slipped the little pistol into her purse and made her way quickly to the truckstop's main building. Once inside, she holed up in the ladies room  until she regained some composure.<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic"> The stakes had just gone up.</span></span><br/><br/>She knew the cops would be crawling all over the place soon. She had to get out of there with a quickness. She hung her purse by the long strap over her shoulder. She moved out of the ladies room, down the little hallway, past the restaurant entrance and through the convenience store. She went out the double glass doors to the front of the joint. She was on the car side, like a regular gas station. At the far end of the parking lot, out of the lights, she spotted an old beat up muscle car backed into a space against the building. As casually as she could, she walked the length of the building, and peered inside the car.  She looked quickly over her shoulder, then back at the car. "Think fast, Jodi..."<br/><br/>She made another quick glance to be sure no one was looking. She opened the door, conscious of the seemingly loud squeak. She folded the driver seat forward and crawled into the back seat. She ducked down in the rear seat and waited, hoping the driver came out before the cops showed. Her hopes were well met.<br/><br/>He opened the door. It creaked. He threw his bag into the passenger seat and closed the door with a loud thump. She heard him fumbling with his keys. She also heard sirens in the distance.<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">The stakes just went up again.</span></span>More frightened than she had ever been in her life, she quietly slipped the pistol out of her purse. Although she was shaking uncontrollably, she managed to work the action of the automatic pistol, putting a round in the chamber with a<span style="font-style: italic">click.</span>She nudged the gun against his head.  She managed to force herself to speak a single word.<br/><br/>"Drive."