Hey true weirdos, at the end of this episode, stick around if you want for a little bonus content

and conversation. Your life is just as it's always been. You wake up, you eat, you go to work.

You drive a road, you've navigated a hundred or a thousand times. A tire blowing out is a hassle,

but it's part of the job for a professional

trucker. You pull over, you unpack the tire jack, heave the spare, and you able to make the switch.

15, 20 minute job at the most. That's the last thing you remember. Well, until the doctors and the drugs and the questions.

And all you've really known now is that you'd give anything to live that night over.

To be anywhere, anywhere, except for there kneeling on the ground beside that truck.

And they got a small beam of light against the mirror.

True. stuff.

The road never got that much traffic that late at night.

It was after 2 a.m.

There were no homes and few businesses along that stretch of highway between Bia Blanca and Buenos Aires. There was the meatpacking plant, silent now, waiting for

dawn and the start of another workday. There was the fuel depot, but the two regular night shift

guards seldom had reason to leave the warmth of their post. When police officers cruising the

highway on routine patrol saw a big truck pulled over onto the shoulder, they immediately slowed

down and pulled in behind the vehicle. In the beam of their headlights, they saw the flat tire

immediately, saw that the tire jack was already in place, the spare lying on the ground a few feet

away. What they didn't see was the driver. The officer circled the vehicle, the beams of their

flashlights flickering and dancing in the darkness. The moon, a waxing crescent, offered little

light and was no help. Trying the truck's door,

they found it unlocked. Inside, everything was neat and in order. All the vehicle's documents

...