Poly Track 6x __hot__ -

I should not have stopped. Hauler rule number one: No pickups on the poly track . But rule number two was Trust your gut , and my gut was screaming that she wasn't a threat. She was something else.

The rain dripped off her chin. She didn't shiver.

Behind us, the amber lights of Track 6x flickered once, twice—then went out, as if we had never been there at all. poly track 6x

"Why should I trust you?"

Then I saw the figure.

She climbed into the passenger seat, smelling of ozone and wet wool. I killed my headlights. The poly track went dark.

I braked. The Junker Jane hissed to a stop twenty feet short of her. The coolant tanks sloshed gently in the back. I should not have stopped

The load tonight was sixteen tons of decommissioned industrial coolant. The stuff was inert, harmless, but it smelled like burnt marshmallows and regret. The manifest said "Recycling, Facility D-9." I knew better. Facility D-9 had been condemned for three years. This coolant was headed for a black-market reprocessor named Lyle, who paid in untraceable chits and never asked questions.