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Box art stories

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The clock showed it was the morning twilight where dreams easily mixed with

reality. The rig sat there idling in the early moring chill. It appeared as if to be

a bull, snorting, ready at a moment's notice to leap into action. Headlights

glowed like yellow eyes - unfocused but seeing all.

Today's load was a liquified creation of the processing done at the refinery.

Each quarter, the accumulated compound was loaded onto a special tanker

trailer, always under watchful armed guards, who always followed the truck

and trailer when it left the refinery.

Was it used for good? For evil? The Pete didn't care, it only wanted to feel the

pull of the load as it got underway. Other trucks could carry ordinary loads.

This job was what he was meant for. And he had the permits to prove it.

post-2277-0-78606800-1344008804_thumb.jp

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