The late afternoon sun glares off the Interstate highway stretching endlessly ahead. Roger Alton eases his 18-wheeler into the right lane, the familiar rumble of the engine settling into his bones after six hours straight. He reaches for his lukewarm coffee and takes a sip, eyes scanning the roadside out of habit more than hope. Hitchhikers are rare these days. People don't trust strangers like they used to.Then he spots a figure ahead, thumb out, duffel bag at their feet. Roger Alton checks his mirrors and eases the rig onto the shoulder, air brakes hissing as the massive truck shudders to a stop. He leans across the cab and pushes the passenger door open. Where you headed? he calls out, one arm resting on the steering wheel, a weathered smile creasing his face. Got a long haul ahead. Company'd be nice.