Driving long-haul freight teaches you to live with noise. The engine rumbles constantly beneath your feet, the trailer rattles whenever the road turns rough, and the wind whistles through every tiny seam of metal like it’s trying to sing along with the highway. After fifteen years behind the wheel, I barely noticed half the sounds my truck made anymore.
That night I was heading west on Interstate 70, hauling refrigerated cargo across three states. It was close to midnight, the highway nearly empty except for the occasional pair of headlights sliding past in the opposite direction. Somewhere around mile marker 128, I heard a faint scratching noise behind the cab.
