Chapter 830 - 4: Prescott

Chapter 830: Chapter 4: Prescott

The light from the headlights was steady but not bright enough, leaving watermarks on the windshield.

Accompanied by the roar of the engine, the shaking of the car body, and the moaning sounds of various old and worn parts, it lulled one to sleep.

Damon’s pickup was not a new purchase.

To be honest, it probably wasn’t much younger than Damon’s son—

Although the United States had been manufacturing pickup trucks since 1940, from 1942 to 1945, under the influence of World War II, the War Production Board in the United States had a comprehensive ban on automotive companies manufacturing civilian vehicles, as all production lines were allocated for military needs.

Not until 1946 did the situation improve, with companies like Chevrolet, Dodge, and Ford beginning to resume civilian pickup production.

However, the restarted production lines were not able to meet the massive market demand in a short time. New pickups were not only expensive but also rare, costing at least 1000 US Dollars, making them unaffordable for small farm owners.

Damon was among the many citizens who couldn’t afford the price of a new pickup.

The pickup he drove was a pre-war product, probably manufactured around 1930. Although it could still run, the condition of the car was worsening due to a shortage of parts.

To keep it running, Damon had to custom order hand-forged screws from small workshops, and piece together various parts salvaged from scrap cars to keep the old pickup operational.

...

Holding the steering wheel with one hand, a Camel brand unfiltered cigarette was clamped between Damon’s fingers.

This hard-pack cigarette cost only 10 cents per pack, and without a filter, it had a strong taste and a noticeable refreshing effect, beloved by the working class.

The headlights were not bright enough, and after nightfall, a torrential rain began, making Damon hesitant to drive too fast.

The window was open, but the smoke in the cab still lingered. On the desolate Route 66 at night, the empty road surface made it hard for Damon to concentrate.

Yawning, the pickup had already descended the slope. Damon took a deep drag of the cigarette, then pressed the brake, stopping the truck by the roadside.

"It would be nice to have a radio, to listen to some pop music on the road..."

Muttering to himself, Damon dropped the cigarette butt, leaned over the hood to wipe the water stains off the windshield with his sleeve, and then went to the edge of the woods to undo his belt and take a leak.

The beams from the headlights stretched out but could not illuminate the endless darkness.

Damon didn’t notice that while he was off relieving himself, a tall man emerged from the woods and climbed into the bed of the truck.

Finishing up, Damon instinctively took another cigarette pack from his pocket, along with a lighter ready to light up another one.

However, the cigarette pack was empty, with not a single one left.

Helplessly, he placed the empty pack under his nose, taking a deep breath as if to draw out the scent of nicotine, and sighed, squatting down to search the ground for the cigarette butt he had just dropped by the light of the truck.

After a moment, Damon finally found the dampened cigarette butt and relit it.

A chilly breeze and the slightly spicy smell of tobacco invigorated him, and Damon returned to the cab, the old pickup continued its way with a clattering noise.

...

Having descended the slope and driven just a short distance, Damon came across a stranded car.

The speed of the pickup was relatively slow, and having just used the bathroom, Damon was quite focused. He spotted a branch lying on the road and the Chevrolet behind it from a dozen meters away.

The speed of the pickup gradually slowed as Damon glanced at the Chevrolet’s license plate, raising his hand to check the loose strap of the watch on his wrist.

Frowning, Damon realized that due to the heavy rain, he was driving too slowly, which might delay the delivery.

But the driver of the car seemed quite badly injured.

After hesitating for a moment, he finally maneuvered around the branch, pressed the brake, and stopped next to the car.

"Hey!"

He bent down to peer into the driver’s compartment, intending to see if anyone was still inside, only to find the open door and shattered car window.

Realizing something was amiss, Damon took a step back, nervously peering further into the car.

But apart from the unconscious driver, there was nothing else he could see.

"Hey, is anyone here?"

Damon called out again, and at last, he saw a young girl’s head pop up from the back seat—

"Can you save my daddy?"

Frightened, the little girl had tear stains on her face and looked utterly pitiful.

"Of course I can, but I need to take you to town first. I don’t have much time left, there will be police to help you there."

Damon looked at his watch again, then walked over to the car.

"Sir, will you help me?"

Being a stranger, the little girl was unable to trust him, warily eyeing Damon, with his rough skin and unshaven face, and didn’t immediately leave the back seat.

Damon was a bit anxious as the deadline for delivery was drawing nearer, and he needed to set off as soon as possible, or damn Brian would surely seize the opportunity to dock his commission—

Both Brian and Mrs. Brian were notoriously stingy, and once they found an excuse, there would be no end to it.

Sweeping his eyes across, Damon straightened up. He originally intended to just leave this troubling scene behind but then noticed a fine mechanical watch on the driver’s wrist, potentially a worthwhile gain.

"Of course, sweetheart, I’ll definitely help you, but I need something in return first."

With a smile plastered across his face, Damon climbed into the car and deftly removed the driver’s watch.

While removing the watch, he noticed that the driver’s shirt buttons on his chest were undone, revealing a bloodied undershirt, and then he caught sight of the wallet on the front seat.